Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 21
JESS
With my father’s visit lasting longer than the usual couple of hours, and my non-work time taken up by the officers prosecuting Warren’s case, I haven’t seen Caleb the past week. It isn’t that we’re avoiding each other. I simply haven’t had a moment to breathe. My father knew there was more to Warren’s arrest than I was letting on, and when his pleas for me to return to Portland didn’t work, he brought Portland to me instead.
My apartment has been overflowing with guests, and today is the first moment of silence I’ve had.
And how do I spend it?
Waiting at the back entrance of my apartment for Caleb to emerge.
He said he had a gig tonight, but with my bitchometer on the fritz, I never got the chance to ask him what time he needed me.
His smile when he spots the shirt I designed this week makes the hour wait worthwhile. It forces my heart into a mariachi tune, and don’t get me started on the lower half of my body.
“What do you think?” I spin in a circle to make sure he gets the full effect, ensuring he sees the ‘Touching is Extra’ text on the bottom half of my ‘Stripper’s Manager’ shirt. “I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. I’m not paying to watch you shake your booty. I get that shit for free.”
“That shit?” Caleb grabs his chest like he was mortally wounded by my comment. “Tell me how you really feel, Jessie.”
“We don’t have time for that.” I skip to the driver’s seat of my car, lean over to unlatch the passenger side door, then mutter, “But if your performance tonight nosedives and we’re out on our asses before midnight, perhaps I can enlighten you a little then.”
He sinks his glorious ass into his seat before attaching his belt. “I don’t see that being an issue.” He waits for my desperation to hit a new-time high before advising, “I booked two gigs tonight.”
“Two!” I apologize to anyone who goes to bed at seven. My voice is loud and ear-piercing.
When Caleb shows me the bookings on the app he set up last week, I get jiggy in my seat. “We’re raking it in.”
In all honesty, I don’t care about the possible two hundred or so I could pocket tonight. I’m stoked at how carefree and calm Caleb is around me. I was worried things last week might have changed our dynamic. Thankfully, it is just as playful and flirty as ever.
Well, until we get out on the open freeway.
“How have you been, Jess? I didn’t see much of you this week.” That is Caleb’s way of asking if my mental breakdown is over yet.
“I’m good. It was a good week.” I indicate to overtake before muttering like it’s no big deal. “My father was disappointed you couldn’t make it to Movie Marathon on Monday.”
“Yeah… ah…” He scrubs at his neck before blurting out, “I’m not really down with having a chub in front of an audience.”
His eyes snap to mine when I say, “Since when?” I waggle my brows, doubling his horrified expression before letting him off the hook. “Pretty much every time we’ve hooked up, we’ve had an audience. If not random strangers, poor Tivy.”
He grins to hide his grimace. “Don’t remind me.”
I pull off the freeway before asking, “Talking about Octavia, where does she think you are tonight?” I got from our conversations at work this week that Octavia has no idea how Caleb is contributing to his share of the rent. She thinks he’s either doing personal training or walking dogs.
I shake my head in disbelief when he drags his hand down the front of his body, highlighting his gym clothes. “You do realize at one stage, she will click onto the fact that you only ever work out on a weekend and at night, right?”
He twists his kissable lips. “I figure by the time that happens, I would have moved onto something else.”
I shouldn’t sound so excited when I ask, “So stripping is just a temporary gig?” However, I do.
“One hundred percent. I wasn’t even sure if I was going to do tonight’s gigs.”
My annoyance at the driver behind me tailgating me is heard in my voice when I ask, “Why is that?”
“Ahh….”
My mouth gapes as the truth smacks into me. “You need me there!” His chuckles sound more relieved than teasing when I add, “I told you they need to be tied up beforehand. Women these days are thirrrsty.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, still laughing. “So I guess I should count my lucky stars that you’ll be right there in the wings of the stage, keeping an eye on them for me.”
“Kicking out the riffraff is a part of my job description, so it’s only fair I keep watch.”
Jealousy highlights my tone, but within minutes of his performance starting at the first venue, Caleb proves there’s no need for me to jealous. Even with the lights dim and the crowd’s roar vocal enough to push me out of the stage curtains, I feel Caleb’s eyes on me the entire twenty minutes of his performance.