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“I’m not a big fan of crashing and burning,” I growled out. I wanted to win in every scenario, both on and off the field.
“Let me ask you something.” He narrowed his eyes. “Do you like your life? Your personal one, the way it is now?”
“It’s not so bad,” I lied. Actually, it sucked.
“But it’s not so great.” He nudged my knee. “Right?”
My personal life was a void, the source of my dissatisfaction. But I hadn’t felt dissatisfied with Electra. For the first time in a long time, I felt excited and challenged outside of football.
“For what it’s worth, I believe she’ll show,” he said softly, and I grasped for that straw like a drowning man would a life preserver. “And when she does, don’t give her the Champion Valentine everyone else knows. Give her the real you.”
“So she’ll run away from me again,” I said wryly. “Only faster.”
“No.” He placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “So she lets down her guard too. Then maybe you’ll both have a chance at something good.”
Electra
NERVOUS, I WIPED my sweaty palms together as I approached the Boom-Boom Lounge that had its name hand painted on a tin sign above the doorway. The one-story building jutted over the water in the middle of a large crescent-shaped bay.
With the thump of a heavy bass beat rattling the wood frame, the club embodied its name. I felt the beat inside my chest where my heart was doing somersaults. I’d been all fluttery since the front desk had delivered Champion’s message.
You shouldn’t be here.
Champion was gorgeous, a fantasy for sure, but he was off-limits. He was a celebrity. His world and mine were not the same. He was eighteen years older, and he was banging my boss. And last, but so not least, there was Ally. What she’d shared with me was a secret. It was best that I stayed away from Champion.
My eyes burned with longing while my insides churned with indecision. Staring at the club, I twisted my damp hands together.
There were serious reasons why I should turn around and return to my hotel. But there was Champion to consider—the real one, not the fantasy in my head. I liked talking to him. It was a rush, and I liked the way he looked at me like I was worthy of his interest. He was thrillingly commanding, yet surprisingly gentle too. He lit up my senses like the shooting-star logo for his team. It had been a long time since anything had.
Didn’t I owe it to myself to see what might happen? It was just a hookup. I had my persona now, my walls. It was a risk just having sex with him, but only a small one. He wasn’t going to get to me emotionally.
I nodded to myself, my decision made, and climbed the wooden steps up to the building elevated on stilts. A dimly lit entrance led to a hostess stand. A woman barely older than me gave me a head-to-toe glance, and her eyes narrowed. She didn’t approve of the short dress that I’d paired with my favorite pair of gladiator sandals with dance-height heels, but after a little consideration, she waved me inside without a cover charge.
On the other side of a short hallway, I entered a large open-air room. The railing on the other end revealed the bay. A raised ceiling overhead sported fans that weren’t necessary with the ocean breeze. Unadorned fixtures beamed down rays of computer-controlled colorful lights. A DJ in one corner spun music that made my feet tap. The song was “Dollar Signs” by Tony K.
My heart sped up. Anticipation replaced anxiety.
Eager to dance, I decided to look for Champion later. I shimmied my way onto the jam-packed area in front of the DJ that served as the dance floor.
Moving to the music, I lifted my arms in the air. My blush-pink dress skimmed my body and showcased my newly acquired tan. The hem was short. It barely covered my ass, and the V neckline plunged so low between my tits that wearing a bra was impossible. I’d taped down my boobs and fitted pasties over my nipples.
As the lights bounced off the reflective sequins on my dress, I felt eyes on me. I drew attention, mostly male, which wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation. At Fantasy, I needed that attention. I dressed and danced to get it. It paid my bills. But now wasn’t about any of that. It was about immersing myself. The old and the new me merged inside the music.
A deluge of multihued droplets shining on me like a spotlight to the past, I remembered purchasing this dress for a prom that I never attended. Alone in the hospital, I waited for my high school boyfriend to visit me, but he never did. He took someone else to the prom. He moved on, not that I blamed him. I was messed up badly, and the situation was a lot for anyone to handle. I barely handled it now. Ryan was just one of many casualties, including my dance scholarship to Juilliard, but he wasn’t the biggest one.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I trembled with longing for my family. My heart ached, and my back burned beneath the scar where the metal had ripped into me. My injuries were minor in comparison to the devastation of losing them.
How was I supposed to continue without them? I questioned that then, and I still didn’t have the answers I needed now.
Don’t. I opened my eyes. Don’t go back. You don’t even have to move forward. Just get through one day. Right now. This hour.
I focused on the lights and the beat. Giving myself over to the music and the moment, I very deliberately swept the memories aside, even the good ones. Dancing was my escape, my safe space. As I moved to the rhythm, sprinkles of light penetrated my gloom.
When the current song ended, another started. “Trips” by Reem.
Feeling her breathy siren-like hum inside me, I moved to the beat. It was slower than the previous one. The lyrics were a compelling invitation to go somewhere that you could be wild and free. The idea appealed, and so did he.
Champion.
