Dance For Me (Club Avalon #1) - Kay Elle Parker Page 0,2

driving home, you’re not having alcohol. The last thing you need is to get pulled by some asshole cop and breathalyzed. Losing your license really would put you in the shit.” Liam slapped both hands down on the bar. “Nobody’s gonna force you to join in with club activities, Bodie. Fitzpatrick protects his staff; you’ve got my word on that.”

Bodie closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. “Am I supposed to audition for him?”

“Well, seeing as I am all-powerful, all-knowing, and have a fabulous sense of, well, everything,” Liam said in a tone bordering on arrogant as he waved an imperial hand in the air, “Fitz is quite happy to go with my decision. I’m happy with hiring you here and now.”

What was more important? Her unease at performing in front of a group of people she had no idea how to read or keeping her belly full and a roof over her head?

She’d already dropped six pounds she couldn’t afford to lose—her jeans were currently two sizes too big—and her landlord eyed her suspiciously every time he saw her. The creepy swine would love nothing more than to hold the threat of eviction over her head in exchange for certain sexual favors.

Bodie shuddered, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

“Did he say how long he’d want to keep this going?”

“As long as it benefits the club. Bo, this could be a long-term deal for you if you don’t freak out.” Liam’s tone indicated that would be a very bad thing to do. “I know what we do here isn’t something you’re familiar with, but you don’t need to be afraid of it or the people who play. Nothing happens without consent. There are rules we abide by, strict rules which are enforced.”

She studied Liam carefully, trying to see past the man who knew almost every secret she had. The man who’d evolved from a shy, sweet boy into a strong, compassionate man. No, she wasn’t familiar with the purpose of this place, couldn’t wrap her brain around it or comprehend why it drew her bestie into its clutches. “Have you been ashamed of this all these years, Liam? Is that why you’ve never told me about this place, brought me here before?”

He straightened, and his gray eyes darkened ominously. “I’m not ashamed of who or what I am, Boadicea. Avalon is...a special place. We don’t have stigmas; we don’t allow judgement. No matter what the kink, as long as it abides by safe, sane, and consensual, we accept. Gay, straight, transgender. Everyone is welcome and we’re just one big eclectic family.”

Liam’s tone of voice was so passionate, filled with love and conviction, it made her eyes sting with tears that were ruthlessly battled back. What would it be like to be part of something like that, to be included in a family who didn’t care about the small stuff but simply opened their arms and embraced the newcomer?

“I didn’t tell you about it, about me, because you weren’t ready. I love you, Bo, but you’re a product of your family’s influence.” He gave her a sorrowful smile. “Not completely, not to the offensive degree your parents have achieved, but they’ve rubbed off on you here and there.”

It was a direct hit to her heart and they both knew it. Even as she bled from the internal bullseye, Bodie pressed her fist to her chest and tried to breathe around the pain.

She hated being compared to her parents, her sister. They were the bane of her existence, the reason her stomach kept her awake at night. They were thoughtless and irresponsible and prejudiced against every race, class, and person they felt didn’t fit in with their idea of a true American.

If someone had an education, they were government allies.

If someone had money, they were privileged and paid for.

If someone dared to speak their mind, they were enemies of the country.

It shook her down to the bone to think anyone, least of all her best friend who knew damn near everything about the horrors of her life, could look at her and see her family’s influences gleaming on her like glitter bath bomb. “I—”

“Be honest, Bodie. Certain things in life, your outlook stems from whatever shit your worthless parents drilled into your head when you were growing up. Hell, I remember when your father called you a whore for staying out past curfew because he thought you were riding the Callahan boys, and you didn’t argue or stand up for yourself. You let him