Salem had led an interesting life before coming to Denver, and I couldn’t say it surprised me that she knew someone that was a burlesque dancer.

“I’ve never seen a burlesque show before.” The lights in the warehouse dipped down, and a soft glow from the stage seemed to be the only light as the Killers started to pump through an unseen sound system. It was an oddly perfect modern musical choice for a place that tried hard to create a Prohibition Era vibe.

Asa’s hand slid across the back of my neck under the heavy fall of my hair, and I felt his lips at my ear. It was so dark I could only feel him, not see him, and that was erotic and stimulating as hell. He made my breath catch when he whispered in my ear, “I really am sorry.”

I watched as a leggy blonde obviously trying to channel Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca slithered onto the stage.

“I know you are. I just wish you didn’t have to be.” And that pretty much summed up how I felt about all the things he was sorry for in his life. I was glad it was so dark because suddenly I felt moisture, hot and pressing in my eyes. It was a date I would never forget and I didn’t mean that in any kind of good way.

CHAPTER 13

Asa

If she had merely been mad at me, annoyed that I purposely played her into thinking that we were doing something wrong, doing something illegal, I could have simply kept kissing her neck and rubbing her arm and I knew she would’ve forgiven me and let it drop. But she was hurt, disappointed that I had ruined our evening out together, and had done it on purpose. I wish I could say I hadn’t known what would happen when I took her, with no explanation, to the middle of nowhere to a place that looked like it should be in a movie or a comic book, but I had. Somehow all of the what-I-had-done and the what-I-would-inevitably-do had converged, and it seemed like a good idea to see how far she was really willing to go for me. I wouldn’t really ask her to do anything wrong—hell, I had spent a solid month trying to keep her from doing regrettable things—but the way she was under my skin, the way she somehow shined light into my darkest places, made me want to challenge her.

She was sitting stiffly next to me, her arms crossed over her chest while she held herself ramrod straight to avoid leaning into the arm I had thrown across the back of her chair. Her eyes were locked on the stage as half-naked girl after half-naked girl shimmied and shook her stuff. If I hadn’t been such an asshole she would probably have enjoyed herself. As it was, her pretty mouth was in a tight, flat line and there was a delicate flutter in her cheek as her teeth clenched. It made it clear to me that we should probably go and I should probably leave her alone—like I had known from the very start. This was what it was going to be like when I finally did end up doing something that was unforgivable. Only then, hearts would be involved and it would feel a thousand times worse.

I moved my fingers so they could brush against her long fall of hair. In the almost dark of the warehouse it looked darker, with none of the pretty red tones in it, but it still felt like silk. I had said I was sorry and I meant it. If she didn’t want to forgive me, I would never blame her for it.

Suddenly her head turned and her dark brown eyes locked on mine. They gleamed in the ambient light and I hated myself just a little bit more when I realized that the reason they were sparkling was the light catching the moisture trapped in their depths. I was supposed to be past the point in my life where I made beautiful, strong women cry over me, and the urge to get on my knees and beg her to forgive me, to plead with her to understand that I tried, I really did, almost overwhelmed me.

Suddenly she moved her chair closer to mine so that we were sitting hip pressed to hip. I curled my arm around her shoulders as she burrowed her face into the curve of my neck. Her lips hit right below my ear as she whispered softly, “Is it always going to be like this with you? Never knowing if this is all real or if it’s all a game because you are a broken bastard?”

My fingers flexed against her bare shoulder as one of her hands flattened against my stomach, making the muscles there tense at her touch.

“I don’t know.” I might not be able to give her an answer that she liked but I could be honest with her. I never wanted to lie to her—or anyone, for that matter. “You are the only woman I’ve ever spent time with without having a hidden agenda. Most of my life all my time was spent trying to convince people I was on the level, a good guy. I lied about who I was and what I was about with every single breath I took. With you, I seem to be doing the opposite and trying to prove to you every chance I get how awful I can be. I keep giving you the worst and you keep taking it.”

She sighed into the hollow she was snuggled into and a tremor raced down my spine when the wet tip of her tongue started to trace along the vein that throbbed right there.

“Why can’t you just be here with me, right now? Why do you have to try and prove anything, how good or how bad you are? I’m well aware of how things in the past worked with you and I am very aware of what might happen if we keep this up, Asa. What I don’t know, what I want to experience, is this moment with you. This exact second in time where it’s just you and me together and what has happened and what could happen doesn’t exist. Why can’t we do that? Just for a little bit.”

I wanted to tell her I couldn’t do it. I was holding on so tightly to every single thing I had done to keep myself weighted down in order to prevent those same devious deeds from happening again. I was forever stuck between the past and the future. The present drifted by me, which had been fine until she blazed into my life all tragic and resilient, full of a defiant fire. I wanted to take her to the dark places and let her light them up. I couldn’t tell her any of that, though. I wasn’t ever going to be a burden she had to bear. Instead I was going to ask her if she wanted to go. I could take her back to her place, take her to bed, and not worry about the past, present, or future. I never got the words out because between one pretty naked girl on the stage and the next, Royal had her small hand inside the top of my pants and behind my belt much like it had been the first night I kissed her.

I sucked in a breath, which gave her more room to maneuver, and she tilted her head back to look at me with lingering sadness and mischief in her coffee-colored eyes. “There are amazing things happening right here in the moment with us, Asa. It would be a real bummer for you to miss any of them because you can’t let go of the past and because you’re too busy trying to sabotage the future.”