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I huffed out a breath and took a moment to seriously contemplate her question.

“I’d settle for doing literally anything else, but I’d like to run some kind of business.

Fuck knows I have the experience for it.

And after years managing Dad’s cronies, regular employees will feel like a cakewalk in comparison. ”

She leaned in and kissed me, just a peck on the cheek. “I’m really proud of you.”

My heart stuttered, and I had to look away.

Hearing those words coming from Lauren, of all people, meant more than I could have anticipated.

It made me want to be a better man for her, continue making her proud, but suddenly all I could think of was how disappointed she’d be if she ever found out about all the unforgivable things I’d done in my life.

Her father—

Nope. Not going there tonight , I told myself. We needed a subject change. Now.

“What about you?” I asked.

She dropped her head back to my shoulder. “What about me?”

“What do you want to do?” I asked, gesturing past us to the club. “When this is all over?”

I knew the second the words were out of my mouth that I’d misstepped, because she stiffened.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her tone losing its warmth. “‘When this is all over’?”

I ran my hand up her back, trying to soothe her. “I just meant whenever you decide to move on from camwork.”

She pulled out of my arms, sitting up. Fuck, I’d made it worse. “I don’t plan to move on from it.”

“I mean like when you’re fifty,” I clarified.

She stood. Goddamn it, this was not coming out the way I’d intended.

“There are plenty of camworkers in their fifties,” she said. “And I plan to be one of them. This isn’t something I just fell into because I couldn’t hack it doing something else.”

Shit, I’d definitely hit a vein. “I just meant you used to talk about wanting to be a psychologist, having a family.”

She jerked back like I’d slapped her. “I have my psychology degree. It’s done wonders to help me connect with my subs.

And being a sex worker doesn’t mean I can’t also have a family, if I choose to, but what I won’t do is have some man try to dictate how I live my life, keep me pregnant and barefoot in his kitchen cooking pasta while he’s off doing god knows what. ”

“Jesus, come on—”

Lauren’s eyes sparked with anger. “I love what I do, Junior. My subs are my community.” She pointed toward the foyer, her voice gaining volume. “These people are like family. They are the most kind, welcoming, nonjudgmental humans I have ever met, and I don’t ever plan on leaving them.”

“I didn’t say you had to,” I barked, my voice rising to match hers.

She took a step back, eyes wide. Shit, what had I just done? This goddamn temper.

“I think you should go,” she said.

My chest heaved as I fought to get myself under control. “Just like that? I say one wrong thing, and it’s over?”

She crossed her arms and broke eye contact.

Fuck, I was losing her. I could feel it.

“I’m sorry, Lauren. Look, none of what I said came out right, and I—”

Noises hit my ears. Shouting, a scuffle.

I was out of the alcove in a heartbeat, yelling at Lauren to stay where she was. At the front door, three men were trying to gain entry, and the bouncers were having a hard time containing them, obviously trying to keep from using force or escalating the situation.

One broke past them into the lobby and kept on coming. He was large, white, and obviously shit-faced . “Who wants to fuck?!”

The nerdy professor Lauren had been speaking to earlier approached him. “Hey, you shouldn’t—”

“Not you,” the man said, shoving him so hard that he bounced off the floor. “I want a woman.”

The sudden outburst of violence and obvious threat of more panicked the crowd, everyone moving away.

I stepped into the space they cleared and squared off against the drunk guy. “Out. Now.”

“Fuck you,” he spat.

Couldn’t say I didn’t warn him.

Adrenaline rushed through my veins as I moved forward. I was already wound up because of my father’s manipulation and the misunderstanding with Lauren, and here was my chance to vent some of my pent-up rage. This motherfucker picked the wrong night.

He threw a sloppy punch. I shifted out of the way, grabbed his wrist, and pulled, hard, tugging him off-balance .

It was like child’s play, stepping behind him, taking his wrist with me, kicking out his knee, and dropping him to the ground.

I put my boot on his spine, yanked his arm up, and with a pop!

his shoulder slid out of socket. The room filled with the sound of his pained bellow.

I spun him onto his back and leaned down, punching him twice in quick succession, feeling his nose burst beneath my knuckles on the second blow.

Blood sprayed, and he went limp on the floor, dazed.

The whole altercation took less than ten seconds.

My pulse roared in my ears as I lifted my eyes to his two friends and smiled, showing all of my teeth. They put their hands up and wisely let the bouncers escort them out, and I tried not to be disappointed that they’d given up so easily.

“ Junior. ”

A glance toward the alcove revealed Lauren standing in its doorway, Ryan and Taylor at her side, all three of them looking a little green. What? It was only a dislocated shoulder and a broken nose. In six to eight weeks, he’d be fine. It wasn’t like I’d permanently disfigured him or anything.

“You need to leave,” Lauren said.

I released the man and faced her. “Be reasonable.”

Taylor grimaced, shaking her head. Great, I’d said the wrong thing again.

“We don’t allow violence in here,” Lauren said. “You broke the rules. You have to go.”

Fucking hell. “No exceptions for protecting everyone else?”

The crowd watching our little drama play out murmured in what sounded like support, but Lauren remained steadfast in her decision.

“Fine,” I bit out. “Just let me grab my phone.”

She stepped back as I approached, like she didn’t want me near her now.

I snagged the phone from the table and spun on her. “What did you expect, Lo? That after hearing you say how much this place means to you, I’d let some drunken assholes fuck it up?”

“That’s not your job.”

My anger spiked. “Yes. It is. I’ve spent the past decade protecting you, and it’s not like your bouncers were handling it.”

Her eyes flashed wide. “What did you just say?”

Shit. This was why I always kept a cage on my temper. I slipped up when it broke free, caused arguments, said too much. “Nothing,” I ground out, striding past her toward the door.

“Junior, wait a second,” she said, but I ignored her, grabbing my gear from the coat check and striding out into the waiting night.