When a struggling Broadway talent agent reluctantly agrees to represent a male stripper, she finds out there's more to her new client than oiled abs.
Season 1 of Strip in the City
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Today might be the worst day of my life. I just lost my biggest c...
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Turns out the concrete wall I'd been trying to construct between West and I was made of styrofoam. In the span of fifteen minutes, that wall had cracked in half and blown down West 45th Street.
West was smiling his disarming smile, and his thumb was tracing soothing little circles on my wrist. Despite standing on a busy sidewalk, the simple gesture felt intimate and sparked more than desire inside me.
I knew I should pull away. I could take the B train back home and cuddle with my cat for the rest of the night. That was the right thing to do. I was West's agent, and someone would surely see us standing outside the Stage Actors Dance Academy holding hands and talking close.
We'd start rumors about why I agreed to take him on as a client and what he was getting in return. Rumors I didn't need floating around my already tarnished name. I had a reputation I was trying to repair, and he had a reputation he was trying to overcome.
Despite its Manhattan address, Broadway was full of small-town gossip.
Every single warning bell in my head was sounding, telling me to go. So why wasn't I walking away?
As I looked into West's deliciously dark brown eyes, I thought Tan might be right. I might have feelings for West that ran deeper than just a crush. He was funny and bold and had a protective streak I kinda liked. More than that, he made me feel like I mattered to him. That he was paying attention to me and all my clumsiness, but it wasn't pushing him away, only pulling us closer.
I almost smiled, but the gesture fell flat. I knew this was all part of an act, just like our dance at the Oiled Olive had been. A fantasy that felt good under cover of night but never held water in the light of day.
Just like my relationship with Tommy.
Even though everything inside me was screaming to trust West, I couldn't. Not with my heart.
I had a business to run and bills to pay. Not to mention an ornery cat to feed. I might have feelings for West, but that didn't mean I should act on them. It would be detrimental to our common goal of making money by complicating a relationship that didn't need to be complicated.
If I let my fingers lace through his and agreed to dinner, everything would change, and I wasn't ready for that.
"If you don't want to do dinner, or if you have other plans, I totally understand. No pressure. I just..."
His voice faded away. I still couldn't believe he wanted me over for dinner at all. Especially after I just emotionally offloaded on him. Tommy would've let me storm off. He never cared if I was upset.
West was different, and I liked that about him.
I wanted to say yes to his invitation, just like I wanted him to keep tracing little circles over my skin, but having dinner with West inside his apartment, surrounded by his scent and multiple soft, horizontal surfaces, wouldn't help smother my feelings for him.
