Page 113 of My Rose

I grinned more. “He already left.”

She tilted her mug in my direction. “You didn’t answer my question. I thought that broody behavior was just big dick energy, not that he’d take it out on you.”

I rolled my lips in and looked out at the water, covering my stupid smile with my blanket.

“Rose Heather Fields, you better tell me.”

“He is rough, but in a good way.” My teeth clamped down on my lower lip. “I kind of like it.”

She cackled—full-on belly laughed as she clutched onto her mug, trying not to spill it. “Knew it. Dean and I found a door that was locked, and we…kind of unlocked it.”

Warmth spread along my cheeks. “Excuse me?” Fuck, I wanted to hide under my blanket.

She arched a brow, smiling wickedly. “Your sex dungeon, Rose. We found it.”

I almost spit my coffee out. “Why would you go looking aroundmyhouse like that?”

“Psh, don’t act like one of those guest rooms isn’t permanently mine. Besides, who else are you going to talk to about being tied up on some workout equipment? Seriously thought I was stepping into a boxing gym, but nope.”

I sipped my coffee slowly, peering at her over the rim. “Fine. I also have these red marks on my ankles, if you’re that curious.”

She choked on her sip, then cleared her throat. “Okay, okay. Moving on.” Her face turned somber. “We haven’t talked a lot about what happened at the party. Are you doing okay? Like, really?”

I looked out over the mostly frozen water and gave a single nod. “Yeah. I think so.”

Her nails tapped along the table. “You know, I’m really glad he’s okay and that he put himself in front of you. That’s that kind of man you deserve, even if he does leave a shit ton of marks all over you.”

I giggled. “They go away. These are from this morning.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Anyway,” she said, dragging out the word. “You’ve been quiet. It’s not really like you.”

I fixated on her hands, unable to meet her eyes. “I know, I just…I have a lot of questions, and I don’t really know what to do with them.”

She straightened in her seat. “Talk to me. I’m here too, you know.”

“What was it like when you met Dean?”

A small smile formed on her lips. “It was great. It happened really fast, but we clicked instantly. Are you thinking Briggs maybeisn’t—”

“No, no. Nothing like that.” I tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear. “I meant the club. What was it like when you met him there? Did you see him doing anything?”

“Besides getting a lapdance?” She giggled, not a single hint of jealousy visible. “He was talking to a few other guys, not anything abnormal.”

“You said something was weird about that place. What was weird?”

“Honestly?” She rolled her burgundy-painted lips in. “They asked me a lot of questions. Ones that weren’t really normal for a job, but then again, I’d never stripped or…you know…worked at a gentlemen’s club before. I just needed the cash.”

I traced the top edge of my mug. “What questions?”

“They asked if I had any close relatives. I thought at first it was just conversation, but then after a few weeks of getting to meet some of the women, I realized I was one of the only ones who wasn’t orphaned or shunned by their family. Most of the women there were long forgotten and only had the club. It was like they preferred you to be singled out.”

I cocked my head. “Who do you mean when you say ‘they?’”

“The managers. Though they were kind of spotty, too. I’d gone through three rotations of managers before Dean told me to stop working there.” She huffed through a smile. “Possessive men problems.”

“He told you to stop working because…”

She looked at me like I was insane. “Because he didn’t want some other dude’s hands on me. Do you think Briggs would allow you to work there?”

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