Tough Guy: A Hero Club Novel by Jamie Schmidt (the reading list .TXT) 📗

was as hot and bothered as me, I shifted back to my own seat. He unlocked the door and the doorman held it open for me.

“1492,” I said as I exited the car.

“The year Columbus discovered America?”

“My room number.” I let myself look my fill of him, uncaring that we were holding up people who wanted to get into the hotel. I wanted to take a picture of him. My lover. Just to prove to myself when he was gone that I didn’t dream him up.

“I’ll see you later,” he said.

I floated up to the room, remembering the feel of Miles against me. I felt like dancing, but honestly, my feet were killing me. When I got up to my room, I ran a hot bath. Dumping a whole container of the complimentary sweet bath salts into the tub, I shucked off my clothes and put on the fluffy white robe and slippers they provided. Bliss. I flipped through the room service menu trying to find something that would keep for a couple of hours if Miles was delayed. I wound up picking two club sandwiches and subbed the fries for pasta salad.

After I placed the order, I put on the television music channel. The bath was calling my name. The quick shower I had taken at Dalton’s was just to clean up instead of soaking into my overworked muscles, so the bath was going to feel decadent. The smell of lavender was making my eyelids heavy. I had to hold it together at least until room service got here. I might as well check my e-mail, so I didn’t get avalanched next week.

I didn’t want to think of Lisa, but she crept into my thoughts anyway. I was debating whether to let her know I was hot on her trail, but I didn’t want to spook her into hiding. Three weeks ago, she met a gray haired man, quit her job and moved out of her apartment in Las Vegas. Two weeks ago, she was working in a brothel slinging drinks after an unsuccessful run at trying to be a dancer. Was she living with him or did he convince her that she could dance horizontally instead? I stopped clicking through my e-mails when I realized I wasn’t comprehending a word of what I was reading. I called Lisa on the off chance that she would pick up. She didn’t. I wanted to tell her I knew she worked at the brothel, but again, I didn’t want to scare her off.

“Stop being a selfish bitch and call me.”

I probably shouldn’t have said that, but I was pretty damn mad at her.

Staring at my phone, I wanted to call Miles, but I didn’t want to come off as needy. Just because I was on vacation, I shouldn’t expect him to drop his responsibilities. And yet, it felt so damn good to be the center of attention and number one in someone’s life—even if it were for just one day.

It had been a pretty good day. I got to dance. I made some cash. I got laid. I blew a guy in his muscle car. And if I were lucky, I’d get the chance to roll around on the mattress with him this time.

I called him. The animal attraction was dialed up to holy shit between the two of us, but I wanted to get to know him. I knew that was stupid. I was leaving in a few days. You didn’t date a vacation fling, you took all the good stuff and left out all the drama.

I got his voice mail too.

“1492. Knock hard if I don’t answer, I’m getting sleepy. But I still want you.”

That sounded trashy and sweet.

Scrolling through pictures of him on the Internet, I couldn’t believe this tough guy was all mine.

“For the week,” I reminded myself and stretched myself out in the hot water.

Bathtubs were the best for fantasies. While I lay there soaking, I let myself dream that I’d auditioned for a Las Vegas show. Like my off-Broadway deal, I would be content to start small in the chorus and work my way up to lead dancer. I kicked up a few times, splashing water everywhere. Wincing, I shifted position. I was still a little sore from my time at Dalton’s and then being wildly fucked in Miles’s office.

I wondered what he was doing now and if he was thinking of me. I wish he had picked up.

Shaking my head, I went back to my fantasy. I’d be a Las Vegas showgirl and Miles would be my boyfriend—a boyfriend who was surrounded every night with beautiful, naked women. Groaning, I sank under the water. I’d be eaten alive with jealousy within the first week.

In fact, what if Miles had already handled the gas leak and was back in the club right now? Would he choose to stay there tonight to make sure everything was all right instead of coming over? And if he did, would I have the right to be pissed? I flicked the water in agitation. Now I was making up things to get mad at. As if I didn’t have enough rage building up for Lisa and her perhaps pimp.

A quick text never hurt, right?

How are things? Are you almost done? When are you coming over? I’m horny.

No. Just no. I deleted the text.

I wanted to talk to someone. My mother was out. Miles was busy. I didn’t know anyone else here. And then I remembered Chance. I bet he could help me out. I called him up and he answered immediately.

“Jackie, my favorite stripper.” Strip-pah.

His accent was the bomb. I heard a low background noise of people talking and dishes rattling. It didn’t sound like he was in a club.

“Were you guys still at Dalton’s when the gas leak got called in?”

“Yeah, too bad too. Things were starting to get good.”

“Did you smell anything?” I stared at my toes, which were getting all wrinkly in the tub. I should probably