Page 97 of Dirty Puck

He was already tossing twenties onto the stage like they were confetti. “Damn, Sapphire!” he shouted. “Missed you, girl!”

Strutting to the pole, I gripped it high above my head and swung around low and slow, letting my curls sweep across my bare shoulder as the lights flickered hot pink across my skin. Every time I popped my hips, bills hit the stage. It was raining money. Fives, tens, twenties. One guy threw a fifty, and I made a point of crawling to it, arching my back like thestretch of a cat before I plucked it from the stage with my nails.

Don let out a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a prayer.

I eased down into a perfect split, letting my hands trail up my thighs, and the crowd lost their minds. The DJ even stopped mid-beat to shout into the mic, “Y’all better make some noise. Sapphire isback!”

It was chaos. The good kind. The kind that made me money.

Hands stayed respectful, reaching only to tuck bills carefully into my garter, the top of my boots, and one—brave soul—into the lacy strap over my hip. I made eye contact every time, rewarded them with a slow grin, a tilt of my head, a whispered “Thank you” that always made them shiver.

Don stood up again and yelled, “Best damn night of my life!” The whole time I’d worked here before, I’d never seen the man so animated. He usually just sat there rubbing one out and tossing me cash. I liked this new version of the man. It made the dance fun.

Throwing a hand to my chest, I gave him a little bow, lips parted just enough to make the whole gesture sing. I shimmied my hips in front of him before moving back to the pole, wrapping my legs around it and falling into a handstand without touching the floor. The bikini top came off, revealing the shiny, plastic pasties. Then I somersaulted my legs over my head and slid down into another split.

In. The. Zone.

By the end of the song, the stage looked like a green sea. I crawled around the stage picking up the bills, blew a kiss to the crowd, and sauntered off into the dark wings with my chin held high and hips still swaying.

I’d come back for the money. And by God, I’d gotten it.

Still… it didn’t hold a candle to waking up with Benny’s head on my shoulder or Reece’s arms around my waist.

But for tonight? I was Sapphire, and the world was right at my feet.

Back in the dressing room, I picked up my phone. Nothing from Reece. Not that I’d expected him to text. We were done. But hope springs eternal and all that BS. It seemed I needed more closure. I did the responsible thing and typed one message—not for him, but for me.

Hope you’re doing well. Take care.

I hitsendand turned my phone face down.

No hard feelings.

Who was I kidding?

I’d fallen in love with Baker Reece.

And once again, I’d fallen for the wrong man.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

REECE

Iwas halfway through lacing up my skates when I saw Bishop coming toward me across the locker room with a look that could melt ice. Jaw tight, eyes narrowed, fists clenched, like he was trying not to use them. He stopped in front of me and didn’t say a word at first—just stared. I stood up slowly, stretching my back, giving him a moment to cool whatever was boiling.

Didn’t work.

“The hell, Reece?” he barked, loud enough that a couple guys at the other end of the bench turned to look.

I blinked. “Good morning to you too.”

“Don’t screw with me. Why were there movers at your place yesterday? I want the truth.”

I wiped my hands on a towel, trying to keep it light. “Clearing out some stuff, that’s all.”

“For what? New furniture?” His nostrils flared.

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