Stripped (14 page)

She parked and double checked the number on the
outside of the brick building before climbing the front steps and pushing the
doorbell. Chris was smiling when he answered, drying his hands on a dishtowel.

“Hi,” he said, pulling her through the doorway for a
kiss. It was slow and sweet, and she considered his ability to kiss her so many
different ways. He always seemed to know what she wanted.

“Hi,” she said as they parted, looking down at the
wrinkled white bulldog who had wandered over to sniff her.

“Is this your dog?” she asked, leaning down to pet
it.

“Yeah, this is Molly. She’s an English bulldog.
She’s lazy but lovable.”

Abby looked around the apartment as she rose. It
felt warm, with wood floors, leather furniture and an open floor plan. Black
and white photographs decorated the walls.

“I love your pictures,” she said, tossing her coat
on the back of a chair.

“Thanks. My uncle took all of them. So are you
hungry? Dinner’s ready."

“I’m starving. It smells amazing.”

“It’s halibut, rice pilaf and asparagus.”

“Wow. So you can cook, too?” she said, admiring the
apartment’s modern kitchen.

“Decide after we eat,” he said, grinning. “It’s
ready when you are.”

“Okay, let’s eat, then.”

As they sat across from each other at Chris’ small
kitchen table, Abby admired him. She liked the way his thick gold waves always
looked a little messy. He wore a blue button-down shirt that made her feel like
she was on a real date, even though they were just sitting in his kitchen.

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked, looking amused
at the thought.

“No,” she said, blushing.

He smiled and she could tell he wanted to say
something.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked.

“The other night. I’ve been thinking about it a
lot.” He sighed and shook his head. “Abby, please don’t take this the wrong
way, but I really wish you’d quit that job.”

“Like I told you, I need the money.”

“I don’t think you do, though. Justin can take out
loans for college and med school, a lot of people do. And you and Audrey and
Sara could move into an apartment if you needed to.”

“I have my Mom, too,” Abby reminded him.

“Yeah, but why?”

“Why? Chris, she’s my Mom.”

“I don’t want to ruin this night with an argument,”
he said. “Just know that I want you to be happy.”

“I’m very happy. I know it’s hard for you to
understand, but I need the financial security the club gives me. After the way
I grew up, I just need it.”

He looked like he wanted to comment, but he didn’t.
When they had finished dinner, Abby helped him with the dishes, smiling as she
watched him stack the plates in a neatly organized cabinet.

“You’re so domesticated,” she said.

“I am. Bachelors have to do all this stuff for
ourselves.” He looked serious as he hung the dishtowel over the stove handle
and leaned against the counter.

“We’ve known each other a couple months,” he said. A
few seconds elapsed as he gathered his thoughts. “Remember when we first met,
and you said I was on the rebound?”

She nodded, wondering where he was going with this.
Her stomach rolled as realization dawned on her.

“Oh, my God. You’re getting back with your ex,
aren’t you?” she said.

“Christ, no! Never. I’m just wondering if you still
think I’m on the rebound.”

“Have you met someone new?” She felt a burn of
jealousy but tried to remain nonchalant.

“Well, sort of.”

She looked away, crushed. She knew their friendship
would end, and she understood why.

“Chris, that’s good. I’m happy for you,” she said,
working to keep her voice level.

“It’s you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. The list of ground rules is getting really
long, because pretty much everything you do makes me want to kiss you, touch
you…or worse.”

The loud rhythm of her pounding heart was the only
sound Abby could hear. Chris wanted her. Hearing him say it felt better than
she’d thought possible.

“Worse?” she said, her voice shaky.

“Much worse,” he said, reaching for her waist and
pulling her into him. “Abby, what I did to you the other night in the sleeping
room … I can do so much more. All I want is to take you to bed and show you how
good I can make you feel.”

“Do you mean now?” she asked, embarrassed by the
eagerness in her voice. She willed him to say yes, because just his words were
giving her a warm, wet sensation.

“I won’t have casual sex with you. Do you want us to
become something more than we are?”

“I want it, yes, but is it possible? We’re both
skittish about relationships.”

“I’m past that. I want to be with you, Abby. The
past couple months have shown me that. The only thing holding me back now is
the stripping.”

“The stripping?” She was taken aback. “You don’t
want to be with me because I’m a stripper?”

It confirmed all the reservations and fears she’d
had about getting closer to Chris. She would always feel like she was less than
him, and not good enough.

“Not for the reason you think,” he said. “I just
don’t want to share you. I’ll be the best boyfriend you can imagine. I’ll
treasure you completely. But I won’t have other men using you to get off, or
hurting you.”

“You won’t
have it
?” Abby cried, stepping
back from him. “Chris, I’ve been dancing to support my family for four years. I
can’t do it forever. I have to save as much money as I can while I’m still
young enough to do it. You can’t just come in here and expect me to quit so
you’ll be my boyfriend. It’s not a bad habit, it’s my job.”

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair in
frustration.

“I just don’t see how you could be serious about our
relationship if you were grinding against other men three nights a week,” he
said angrily. “Kind of takes the novelty out of it, right?”

“The novelty’s been gone for a long time, Chris. You
and I are from different worlds.”

Abby crossed the kitchen quickly, grabbing her coat
and purse from the couch.

“You’re leaving again?” he asked loudly. “You can’t
just leave every fucking time we argue!”

“What else is there to say? You’re so condescending,
Chris. Offering to do me the honor of being my boyfriend if I’ll quit my job.”

“That’s not the only job in the world.”

“No, it’s not. So how about if I quit mine and you
quit yours?”

“Not the same thing, Abby. I don’t get other women
off for a living.”

“I’m not a fucking prostitute, Chris! I’m a dancer,
and yes, I strip. Quit making me feel so cheap. Isn’t that what everyone else
is supposed to do?”

Chris recoiled, looking like she had slapped him.
Abby was overwhelmed by her quick transition from happy, to aroused, to hurt
and angry.

“I have to go,” she muttered, knowing she was about
to make the transition to sad.

Abby came through the back door and threw her purse
on the counter, relieved to be home.

“Hey,” Justin said, looking up from his homework in
surprise. “You’re early.”

“Yeah.”

She sighed as she walked into the living room and
saw Kathy, Audrey and Sara watching television. She focused on the screen,
seeing a man’s guts spill to the ground as he was stabbed with a long sword.

“This is not appropriate for the kids,” Abby said,
striding toward the television.

“They’re my kids, not yours,” Kathy said sharply.

“Well, I’m the one who has to get up with them at
night when they have nightmares from this stuff.”

“What crawled up your ass and died? Did Dr.
Wonderful cut the night short?”

Abby felt contempt for her mother rising inside her.
She wished desperately for a mother she could come home and talk to, really
talk to, and get sympathy and kindness from. She’d never have it. But she
refused to give Kathy the satisfaction of knowing she’d had a bad night.

“No, Chris got called in to work,” she lied.
“Audrey, Sara, come on, it’s bath time.”

The glare of the stage lights blurred the many faces
in the crowd into an unrecognizable swirl. The club was busier than usual for a
Thursday night.

Abby’s mind was still on a conversation she’d had
with Audrey before work. Audrey had spent the night at her friend Katie’s house
a couple of times, and Abby had suggested they host Katie this weekend. Audrey
had been standoffish about it before admitting she was worried about what their
Mom might say or do in front of her friend.

Abby’s heart had broken for Audrey. She was right.
Abby had never even considered having a friend over when she was growing up.
Going to other girls’ houses had usually just made her wistful for a normal
home life.

Between that conversation and the glumness she’d
felt since the fight with Chris, Abby was down. Dancing on the stage when she
felt this way was easy because she could stay in her own world, but lap dances
were tougher. She had to maintain eye contact and feign interest then.

As she left the stage after her dance, she
considered just hanging out backstage instead of doing lap dances. But she knew
Mickey would chase her out to the floor if she did, so she made her way to a
man who signaled her.

He was
old
,
she realized as she took
his money. Probably close to 80. She hoped the dance wouldn’t give him a heart
attack or anything. He kept his hands to himself, but Abby was still disgusted
by simulating desire for someone elderly. She was glad when the dance was over.

Her next customer was the polar opposite. He was in
his early 20’s, and he was all hands. Though she knew some men wouldn’t listen
no matter how many times she told them not to touch, Abby wasn’t in the mood,
and she grimaced as she felt his hands creeping up her stomach. As soon as she
heard the last beat of the song, she jumped up to leave.

“Hey,” Sam said as she sailed by. “Your Greek God’s
here.”

“What?” Abby stared at her in disbelief.

“Probably here to see you. He’s in the back corner.”

Abby blew past the customer gesturing to her, nearly
running to get back to the corner. Sam had to be mistaken. Chris wouldn’t come
here.

But there he was. He was alone, with three empty beer
bottles on his table. She couldn’t read his expression as their eyes met. It
was serious and intense. Had he come to talk to her?

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Watching you.”

“How dare you come here to spy on me! Have you done
this before?”

“I’m not spying, Abby. Why do you mind me seeing
what every other man in the world can?”

“First of all,
do not
use my name here --”

“Oh, is that the one thing I get to myself? That
none of these assholes know your
name
?”

She sighed, looking away. Chris leaned toward her as
he spoke, and she realized how angry he was.

“Do you know what it feels like to watch you rubbing
all over other men? To see them touching you everywhere?”

“This is my job. You’ve known from the
beginning.”Abby crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously.

“Fine.” Chris sat back, his eyes still alight with
anger. He looked past her, gesturing, and Abby stared, open-mouthed, as Roxy
approached. Chris’ eyes were still locked on Abby as he held a folded bill out
to Roxy.

“Um…” Roxy looked uncomfortably at Abby.

“Go ahead,” Abby said, quavering inside.

“It’s the middle of the song,” Roxy told Chris.
“Want to wait for the next one so you get a full dance?”

“No. Now.”

Abby kept her face impassive as the young dancer moved
against Chris. She straddled his lap, pushing her breasts into his face. A sick
feeling rose inside Abby as she watched. She was rattled by how much it
bothered her to see another woman’s hands on Chris. Her heart sped up as Roxy’s
face trailed down his stomach, and then went lower.

Abby closed her eyes, unable to watch as Roxy licked
him through his jeans. She wanted to cry and scream at the same time. When she
looked back, Roxy’s fingers were trailing across his cheek into his hair, and
it was too much.

She turned, tears blurring the faces around her as
she walked to the wall to creep backstage before customers tried to flag her
down. She only made it partway before she bristled at the feel of hands on her
hips, turning her.

“Tell me that didn’t bother you,” Chris said
roughly, pushing her against the wall. Abby looked back at him defiantly as he
trapped her with a hand on either side of her. “Tell me. Say it had no effect.”