Dirty Secrets (Get Dirty 4)

“Holy shit, I’ve missed you! Come on, let’s get you ready before the floor goes wild.”

I grin, following her in the door. “I’m sure it’s not that busy.”

Gavin holds the door open for us both but fails to stifle a chuckle. “You gotta be blind, Allie. Did you see the front lot? It’s so damn busy we had to bring in two valets because even the overflow lot next door is full, and we stopped letting people in about thirty minutes ago because the fire marshal decided tonight was a good night to check the place out.”

He rolls his eyes, and I realize that I’ve missed him and Logan, had gotten used to hanging out with them everyday. I reach up and hug his neck. “How you doing, Gavin?”

He hugs me back briefly but brotherly and smiles down, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Me? Fine. Him, not so much.”

I bite my lip and sidestep the question I want to ask. “And Logan?”

Gavin grimaces, then forces a smile. “I think he’s catching the brunt of the upstairs heat, but he seems to be getting his frustrations out on the mat. He’s training a kid over at that MMA place by you.”

I nod, feeling like hell. After going off on Logan, Max came by the dance studio to talk with me and told me about Logan helping out.

“Yeah, I might owe him an apology.”

“Fuck it, he’s cool. He understands.”

Trish, eager to get things going, drags me away, pulling me into the dressing room. “We can all play Twenty Questions and shit later. Right now, though, you need to get glammed and get right in your head. Give me your phone so I can play your music for you.”

This is why I love this girl. She could be mad that I’m taking the spotlight tonight, could be apathetic about whatever shit’s going on in my life, could be gossipy about me and Dominick.

Nope, she’s running stuff like a boss herself. In the middle of this chaos, she’s the one keeping her head and issuing orders, making sure things get done. She’s the girl you want by your side when stuff is going well because she’ll celebrate right, but also the one you want by your side when it’s all wrong because she’ll hold you up when your knees give out. My music starts, and I give Trish a nod.

“Thanks, girl. You’re a good egg.”

She smirks. “I know.” And then she’s off, mothering the other girls and helping them get ready for their performances. Securing garters, pulling corsets tight, and adding an extra touch of glitter. And then another. Man, she loves glitter.

I start applying my makeup, going with a heavy smoky eye and red lips to go with my red costume for the evening. I needed something hard, something fierce to give me a bit of armor to do this, not because of the dancing. That, I enjoy and could do in my sleep.

This armor’s to protect me from Dominick. I know he prefers me in pink, softer, more real, and that’s exactly why I’m going full-vixen tonight.

Putting a wall between us, rebelling against him while flipping him the finger metaphorically, and making my own stand, my own way.

Listening to my headphones as Beyoncé belts out about running the world, it seems Trish was right. I am getting into the right headspace for this. I’ve got enough time to wrap it all up, do a full double-check of my costume, my hair and makeup, and every speck of glitter—yeah, Trish added some extra—and then it’s go time.

I head to the ‘gorilla position’ behind the curtain, and moments later, I hear the DJ announcing me, getting the already worked-up crowd whipped into a frenzy.

It’s weirdly . . . fun. I might not be a rock star, but I can understand the thrill, the rush as it hits me harder than ever before.

I remember that this is why I enjoy performing, that connection between me and the audience, sharing the experience of the moment.

My music starts, the intro long and sultry so I have time to make my entrance and walk the rail. I have a moment of falling out of character, so shocked by the sheer volume of people in the room.

Gavin wasn’t lying. This place is packed, but they’ve made sure it’s not sleazy. There’s no concert vibe with horndogs packed five-deep around the stage in a standing-room-only leer fest.

Instead, they’ve moved in additional tables and chairs to fit as many people in the space as possible.

My mind whirls with the unexpected number of people, but my music reaches its first bridge into a crescendo that signals me to approach the pole.

It jolts me, and I adjust, dropping back into performer mode.

Immersed in the music, the throbbing erotic beat fuels me. My body spins and twirls, moving with a routine so memorized I don’t even think about it. It just flows as an extension of my soul.