Page 7 of Allured (Love and Burlesque #1)

CHAPTER SEVEN

ALEK

Is it worth it? Let me work it.

I t’s only Thursday and my ass is sore. Besides the several bachelorette party performances and rehearsals for our new shows, I’ve also been keeping up gym sessions with my brother and the guys this past week. I’m exhausted.

Thirty—four years old and I feel like I need one of those chair lifts for these damn stairs leading up to the stage.

With Thomas out for his residency, it’s been a busy time at the burlesque club. I’m not really complaining though. This all comes with the territory of being a lead dancer. And if I’m being honest, I need the distraction.

I can’t stop thinking about him .

“Fuck!” I scream.

Skidding to a stop, I hang on for dear life to one of the rails on the wall leading up to the main stage. My dumbass nearly tripped up the damn stairs again . I’m a former gymnast and a six—inch step almost took me out. Remembering how to walk is apparently second in line to thinking about Ezekiel. The man I met last Saturday with a shy smile and wide, sapphire eyes that have etched themselves into my brain.

The same man who hasn’t texted or called.

Mindful of my steps this time, I make it up to the empty stage. Brightly lit with just the overhead lights, the stage doesn’t have the same appeal and glow it has during a show, but there’s something so comforting in the quiet of it. Glancing around, I check out the wings of the stage to make sure some of my props for tonight’s bachelorette show are in place. Looks like we’re all set.

“You look like you need a drink!”

Emma has her hands cupped in front of her face in a makeshift megaphone to amplify her soft voice. I’m going to take her up on that offer. I can definitely use a drink.

I hop off the end of the stage and step through booths and tables where my best friend is behind the freshly—polished bar at the other end of the large room. Emma’s already getting out the ingredients for my whiskey sour by the time I plant my ass on one of the bar stools.

“Is this your way of telling me I look like shit?”

“Well I’m not not saying that. What’s got your fine ass all moody this week? Is it still that guy?”

Being my best friend, Emma knows all about what went down with Ezekiel last weekend. Monday night pizza and TV show binging at her place is probably my favorite part of the week. I dished out every detail while we ate our food, put on facemasks, and watched Buffy Summers be a badass on screen.

“He still hasn’t called?” she asks. A slow shake of her head accompanies a frown on her full lips.

“Not a peep,” I reply, the disappointment in my voice echoing through the empty bar area. Thankfully, she finishes making our drinks quickly. I gulp down a good portion of my whisky sour before I continue talking.

“I don’t know what it is about this guy.” My finger traces some of the condensation building on the outside of my glass, slipping down the engraved pattern. It’s the truth. I’ve never really been one to obsess over someone else but I can’t shake Ezekiel from my thoughts.

Dating hasn’t really worked out for me in the past. Things start off fine for the first few dates but when the person I’m seeing finds out what I do for a living, or when I open up about my past, they tend to take a big step back. I prefer to keep things casual and not get too attached for that very reason. Avoidance, Vivian calls it, but it’s what’s best for me. I’ve been down that road and I never like where it winds up.

“Alek.”

Emma’s delicate fingers wrap around mine, halting my nervous fidgeting. Her big brown eyes stare into me, stopping my thoughts from overtaking my mind.

“I lost you there,” she says. A line of worry fits between her eyes, the only wrinkle in her smooth complexion. I don’t want her to be concerned over me. She’s got enough going on in her own life.

“Sorry, drink’s a little strong. I’m good.” The fingers from my free hand fit over hers, sandwiching her small hand in mine as I pat the back of her hand gently. I put on a smile as I free the glass from our grasps and bring it to my lips again.

“Good shit, though.” One large sip and my drink is finished. I set the empty glass back on the coaster perched on the bar.

“I’m gonna try to forget about him. If he’s in with Knight’s crowd, chances are he’s a snob or living off his daddy’s money.” I’m looking for excuses to make myself feel better. One meeting between us and I know that’s not Ezekiel’s style. There was nothing but life, curiosity, and want in the man.

“Look, I’m not telling you to get all hung up over this guy, but maybe give it a little time? By the way you described him, it seems like he was a little lost in how to talk to you, Alek.”

Emma takes my glass and wipes down the little droplets of water I absent—mindedly splattered around.

“You never know what could happen.” Her bright vibe almost fills me with hope. A small shrug accompanies her smile, the motion moving the fabric of her black dressy shirt.

She’s not wrong. I shouldn’t be closing things off right away because I think there’s a chance of it not working out, and I’d really like something to work out with Ezekiel. Whatever that something might be.

“Alright, I’m staying open to the idea and that’s all I’m committing to.” It’s safe in the gray area of lo que será, será. I need to believe things will work out for the best and if Ezekiel is meant to be in my life, the universe will make it happen.

I glance at my watch and see there’s about forty—five minutes until the doors open for our guests tonight. I need to head backstage soon.

“I’ve gotta get going, mu?eca.” Hopping up, I lean my upper body across the bar and plant a quick kiss on her cheek, careful not to mess up any of her makeup.

I leave with a new sense of determination in my gait.

It’s time to put on my big boy panties.