Serena Bennett ran into her office, panting. The damn meeting had run long, and if she didn't hurry, she would miss him. Seeing Tyson was the only light of her day. And she wasn't going to miss seeing him today. Okay, she was the first to admit that her crush on her twin brother's best friend was ridiculous, especially as he never treated her as anything other than that. But everyone deserved at least one vise. Tyson Leigh was hers. After the day she was having, a Tyson fix was just what the doctor ordered.

Her meeting with the other Club Prestige owners had gone over because they were trying to figure out how to deal with a neighborhood group trying to close their doors. There was a new ordinance being put before city counsel leaders. The club had been open for a year and now some stupid, uptight group was trying to shut them down. Fine, so Club Prestige was technically a strip club, but membership was exclusive. They had presidents, and rock stars on their client roster. They weren't just any strip club. Luckily for them, they had enough powerful clients to fight the closing of their doors, but it was the last thing they needed to deal with. Club Prestige was more than a business to them. For some of them, it was sanctuary.

She looked at the clock and groaned. She was going to miss him if she didn't hurry. Did she have a cute top? There had to be one in here. She tossed her notebook onto her chair and rummaged through her gym bag. Although she rarely made it to the gym or the studio anymore, she kept a spare change of clothes in there for the occasional coffee spill, or, even more deserving of a cute top, a Tyson sighting. Though, not like she didn't see him three times a week.

She yanked off her top and threw it down on the floor. After fishing through her bag, she found a suitable replacement, a V—neck red T—shirt, and tugged it on. Okay, as cute options went, it wasn't exactly what she was looking for, but at least it was clean. And showed some cleavage. Not that Tyson would ever notice. Because to him, she might as well be his sister. It would take a miracle for him to see her any other way.

"Oh, honey, you didn't have to get changed for me."

Serena jumped, clutching a hand to her chest. "Shit, Micha. You scared the religion out of me."

Her cousin laughed as she sauntered in from the bathroom. "Is that what the kids are saying now, cuz?"

"Yeah, it'll work for now." Serena wrapped Micha into a hug and squeezed. Her cousin was just the bit of family that Serena was missing. With her brother gone, it was easy to work too much to combat loneliness. She made a mental note to visit Micha in San Diego more often. "How is my favorite cousin? I didn't expect you for another hour."

"Bitch, I'm your only cousin." Micha's trademark sass made Serena smile. "I finished my run early, and my interview was postponed to tomorrow, so I've got the whole day free. Unless of course you're busy now? In which case I can entertain myself handily. I brought my stack of ones, and I'm ready to misbehave."

Serena snorted out a laugh. Micha might pretend like she was in a misbehaving mood, but Serena knew her cousin. Micha was so stupidly in love with her fiancé, Caleb Atkins, it wasn't funny. If Micha did join in any of the fun and festivities in the club's rooms, she would only be doing it to embarrass Serena. As the public face of Club Prestige, Serena maintained a no—nonsense exterior. Considering she was part owner of a strip club, she was hardly any fun.

She preferred to be behind the scenes. She ran a strip club and rarely went into any of the rooms to check out what was happening. Not that she was uncomfortable...exactly. But more that she liked to stay in her lane. Come to work. Manage the books, catch up with Tyson when he was around, and go home...to her boring existence. She had a routine. Keep it low key. Work her ass off to make the club a success. Failure was not an option. Yeah, sad. She really had to get a hobby.

There had been a point when she'd liked to dance. But, outside of the partner dance lessons for Micha's wedding party, she hadn't done that in years. Not since Aidan had messed up her life. She kept telling herself she'd start again...one of these days. She dragged her attention back to her cousin. "I'm free actually. I just have to hand off this report, make sure Tyson gets paid, and then I'm good for the rest of the afternoon."

Micha grinned. "Tyson, you say? You mean that piece of gorgeous man meat you've been lusting after since we were teenagers?"

"I—I have not been lusting after him." Well, not true, but she wasn't admitting it out loud. "Would you keep your damn voice down? Someone could hear you and get the wrong idea."

"Relax, honey. No one knows. I only know because I've seen him and the way you look at him. I hope me pairing you guys for the dance at the wedding isn't a problem. You've got this love jones under control right?"

"Uh...define controlled." From the time she was eight and he'd given Bobby Fink a black eye for stealing her bike, she'd adored him. And when she'd finally discovered boys, she hoped he'd wake up one day and see her as more then X's little sister. But he never did. Tyson had changed from that gangly kid who broke Bobby's nose in her honor. He'd filled out and gotten taller. Now, he loomed over her at nearly six foot three. And his laughing green eyes… She'd imagined them a million times looking at her with something other than sisterly affection. Yeah, good luck with that. "And no, not a problem to dance with him. It's about all the physical contact I get these days."

"Oh, sweetie. How come you've never said anything to him? You guys are older now. And it's no big deal. It's not like he doesn't already know the worst about you."

Serena sagged in her chair. "I know. Not everyone has your kind of confidence and I don't think power posing is going to help me. I mean, I do for work. Work is easy. Love life, not so much. I would kill to borrow some of that diva strut."

"You could fake it until you make it. Newsflash, even I don't have diva strut all the time. I think it's time for you to get your man."

Serena shook her head. "After last time, I'm not willing to mess up like that again." She slid a glance over her cousin. Micha was tall, slim, and athletic. She wore her wild mane of curls lioness style, and she had a kick—ass attitude to boot. With her cinnamon skin and gray eyes, she was a knockout. Guys had always flocked to her. She'd never had any issues landing a date.

To be fair, neither had Serena. Male attention wasn't the problem. Picking the right guy was. After too many failed attempts, she was gun—shy. Nerves did not make for a good first date. To make matters worse, she tended to sweat when she was nervous. She knew Tyson, so the nerves manifested in her extreme clumsiness. Serena eyed her cousin's stilettos. "Nice shoes."

Micha cocked her head and winked. "They come with the strut. And you can have one of your very own. We just need to find your sexy mojo. You just have to work it your way."

Serena gestured toward herself. "Oh yeah, because leggings and a T—shirt are strutting attire."

Micha rolled her eyes. "All of that can be fixed."

"If you say so. Let's get this over with, then we can go grab lunch."

"Sure thing."

Serena stood, grabbed her bag and followed Micha out into the dimmed hallway. Her office might have sunlight streaming through, but the club was kept low lit for ambiance.

She led them into the bar and found Tyson writing up the paperwork for their inventory order. Once a week, without fail, he came by to do this. He could send one of his guys, but he always did it himself, insisting that when it came to his best customers, he preferred personal service.

Serena had offered him the alcohol distribution contract when the club opened because he was a friend. But business was booming for him. He didn't need to oversee the account for Club Prestige, but he did it anyway. She figured it was because her brother, Xavier, had asked him to look out for her. When Xavier had moved to New Orleans, he had worried he'd be too far away. Her brother had an overprotective streak that she could never slip loose from. Granted he had good reason to worry. There'd been a time when she'd needed him.

He'd been set to kill Aidan after what he did to her. She'd really leaned on X to get her life back in order. He'd put Tyson in charge of brother duty when he left, and Serena thought she should resent it, but his visits and calls were pretty much the highlight of any day. You. Are. Pathetic.

They rounded the corner and Serena nearly ran over Olivia, one of the owners. The pretty brunette gave her a wide smile. "Hey, sweetie."

"Hey. Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. You remember my cousin, Micha don't you?"

"Sure do. It's good to see you again."

"You too."

Redd, another part owner and sometimes bartender, looked up from the inventory ledger and inclined her head toward Tyson with a wink and a sly smile. Her red locks looking even brighter under the dim lighting. Sometimes it felt like everyone knew how she felt about Tyson…except Ty himself.

He looked up and gave her a wide smile. Her heart stuttered as she tried to formulate coherent words. Luckily, Micha managed that. "Hey, Tyson. Serena was just telling me I might run into you."

"Micha. Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

"Hey, stranger," Micha said as she hugged him. "Glad I got a chance to run into you."

Tyson gave Micha a flirtatious smile. "How's the bride to be? That fiancé of yours keeping you out of trouble?"

Micha grinned. "Nope. I cause it just about everywhere I go. Serena said you guys are having fun at the dance classes."

She loved Micha. She did. Ever since her aunt and uncle had adopted her cousin, Serena had called Micha a sister. But right now, Serena was going to commit sororicide. Or whatever it was called to kill a cousin. She rushed to hand Tyson his check. "Uh, we're gonna go, but I wanted to give this to you."

She handed over the envelope as carefully as possible so she didn't touch him and linger. Touching him, did all kinds of inappropriate things to her lady parts, and she didn't have a magic bullet handy so...

But Tyson frowned. "What, no hug? And you know you could have waited to give this to me until later."

He fixed her with his clear, emerald—green stare, and she stuttered. "I—I figured you were all hugged out. And you're here, so might as well."

"Nope." He opened his arms wide.

You can do this, Serena. Go in for the hug. Make it quick. Don't sniff him. Do not lift his shirt and lick his abs. And absolutely no trying to rub yourself all over him. Every single one of those was a fantasy she'd had of late. With a quick clearing of her throat, she hugged him briefly and escaped his hold. Or tried to. He just squeezed tighter. God, it was like he was trying to torture her. The idiot had no clue what he was doing to her.

Except she made her escape a little too quickly and tripped over the leg of the stool. Her ass hit the hard wood with a firm thud. Shit! Right about now a few things could happen—the ground could swallow her up whole, or maybe even better, she could just vanish into thin air. Ooh, or there could be a full rewind, and she could borrow some of Micha's moxie and be cool and calm and collected. Sexy even.

Or none of those things would happen and she'd have to blink up at Tyson's surprised, concerned frown as he reached out a hand to help her up. Fuck my life. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Andie, the club's head of security coming her way, but Serena gave her a slight shake of her head.

Micha scrambled and snatched up Serena's purse and the rolling wayward lip gloss she never remembered to put on. "Here you go, sweetie."

"Thanks," Serena muttered, and took her bag.

Tyson's strong hand enveloped hers and tugged her up as easily as a rag doll. "You okay? You took a hard fall."

From the corner of her eye, she saw the bartender, Jacob, one of the bouncers, Bruce, and one of the dancers, Alex, heading her way, but she put up a hand. "Yep. Fine. Perfectly okay. A bruised ass is hardly cause for concern."

Tyson's gaze narrowed on her face, making heat crawl up her chest and neck, and she wished for her cousin's brown skin.

But oh no, even in the dim light of the bar, he could probably see the deep red flush on her alabaster skin. Damn her pale coloring. "We, uh, we're gonna go. Girl things to do."

"Serena, you're sure you're—"

"I'm cool," she interrupted. The last thing she wanted to see on his face was pity.

Micha came to the rescue. "Not to worry. I'm going to go and feed her endless mimosas and fattening food and we're going to girl talk. See you around, handsome. Caleb wanted you at the bachelor and bachelorette party. You able to go?"

Damn it. Serena bit back a groan. It had slipped her mind she and Tyson had agreed to go to the wedding together since they were both on the guest list and didn't know too many other people. Now he'd be joining the party as they went to Vegas to celebrate Micha and Caleb's last days of singlehood. Which meant there was an increased likelihood that she'd drink too much and say too much. Just tell him all the secrets about her feelings.

"I wouldn't miss it." Of course he remembered.

She had to get out of here before she did anything stupid.

"Right. See you next week, Ty."

He frowned. "Did you forget I need your help going over my numbers tomorrow?"

Damn. More close confines, meant more opportunity to humiliate herself. "Yep. Does seven still work?"

"Of course. I'm cooking, so bring your appetite. Have fun today."

Fun…right. Just as soon as she forgot about humiliating herself in front of him.

As Micha hustled her out of the club, her cousin muttered, "Don't worry, that was not as bad as it seemed."

Serena didn't buy that for a second. "You're my cousin. It's your job to lie to me."

#

Tyson watched as Serena and Micha strolled out of the club. A smile tugged at his lips when Serena rubbed her butt. God, she is adorable. Clumsy as hell, too, and had been ever since they were kids.

"Yo, man, are you ever going to make a move on that, or am I going to have to swoop in and cock block you there, because she is nice. A little clumsy, but that body… Damn."

Tyson scowled at Mark Robertson, his director of operations. Mark might be one of his best friends, but he really would consider killing him if he went anywhere near Serena. "Leave her alone, Mark."

"Why? Not like you're going to do anything about it. I asked and she doesn't have a boyfriend. Everyone says she hasn't had one in ages. So you know she's got to be primed."

Tyson rolled his eyes. He knew her status better than most. Hell, her single status was one of the reasons Xavier had wanted him to keep an eye on her. That douchewaffle Aidan had done a number on her, and she'd ended up all kinds of burned. He'd make sure it never happened again.

Okay, maybe when Xavier had asked him to look out for Serena, he'd taken that to heart. Just because he couldn't have her didn't mean she didn't deserve happiness. But not from a guy like Mark. And for Tyson, she was so entrenched on the "do not touch" list that he didn't dare go there. It didn't matter if he'd been in love with her since they were nine. Anything other than the brotherly touching was a no go. And his impulse control was getting worse these days, so he didn't dare touch her. Not her face to brush a strand of her hair back, not her lips to kiss her good night, certainly not full br—yeah…do not touch list.

For starters, he had his own shit to sort. He'd waited a long time to get his life moving again. Five years he'd put his own dreams on hold to look after his father. He'd bided his time. Took over the business. Put off school. Getting involved with Serena right now would set his life back with school and the business. He'd want to spend all his time with her and he couldn't do that. He had other priorities. She deserved someone with time to dote on her. He knew where his focus was.

But there was also the issue of her owning a strip club. After watching his father run around with strippers since he was a kid, he made himself a promise that he wasn't going to do the same. None of those women had ever made the old man happy. His father had a type—blonde, big tits and knew how to work a pole. Problem was none of those women stuck. Especially not when the old man got sick. No. The last one had abandoned him amidst cancer treatments. Serena wasn't a stripper obviously, but she was too close to it. Closer than he'd ever be comfortable with. But strip club owner or not, he was protective of her.

As much as he admired Mike, the guy was a notorious womanizer. He couldn't help himself with the girls. It was a problem. Always chasing the bright, shiny new toy. And Serena would get hurt.

It wasn't because Tyson was so desperate to have her himself that he couldn't think straight. Not at all.

For all intents and purposes, Serena wasn't going to happen. Besides, Xavier, had given him the investment capital to get his father's struggling business off the ground again. Not a good call to repay favors by screwing with someone's little sister.

It still pinched that he'd had to go to his friend for help. Not like Xavier hadn't volunteered and had gotten real pissed off when Tyson had said no. Three times. But eventually Tyson had come to terms with his father's illness and what he had to do to save the business. So he'd accepted the money.

But this week, he'd officially pay off the loan. He'd planned a quick trip out to New Orleans to settle the debt. He obviously could have just sent a check or wired the money, but it would be so much more satisfying doing it in person.

Xavier had never once asked for the money, never hinted at it, never even brought it up. But Tyson knew. It weighed on him every day. Now he was in a position to pay back the gift of a life raft and finally go back to college. He needed to stay focused on that, and not on Serena.

Mark snapped his fingers in front of his friend's face. "Hey, man, you paying attention, or you watching her ass?"

Tyson growled at his friend under his breath. Mark was completely unaffected. "Don't be mad at me just because you haven't yet. Shit or get off the pot."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"You think I don't notice that you only do this particular inventory and delivery yourself, when I'm perfectly capable of managing it? And don't give me that bullshit about keeping tabs on her or whatever. You and I both know you want her. What I want to know is why you can't seem to pull the trigger already. I mean, the worst she can say is no."

"It's complicated," he muttered.

His friend laughed. "You think her brother's going to kick your ass? Yo, there are some things worth getting an ass kicking for. And Serena might be one of them."

Mike wasn't wrong there. "Can we just get this done? Besides, there's more to it than that."

"If you say so. But I warn you, if you don't do something about her, someone else will, and then you'll be standing around with your dick in your hand."

"I can help you with that."

Tyson sighed at the throaty voice behind him. He knew it well. Amber. If that was her real name. She was one of the dancers, and she'd made her interest more than blatant.

"Hi, Amber." Strictly speaking, she was stunning. Tall, stacked and clearly comfortable with her body. But she held no appeal. Zero. He preferred his women more…subtle.

"Tyson, were you going to come and say hi?"

"I didn't know you were working today," he hedged.

She gave him a sweet smile, and he could see why she was one of the more popular dancers. She was an excellent actress. "Oh, come on. I moved my schedule around so I'd be on when you were here."

"Interesting." That was funny because he'd moved their delivery time earlier so he could still see Serena...and avoid Amber. He'd dated enough girls like her to know they were trouble. Beautiful, and with their own agenda. He would tell her he didn't date strippers, but he didn't want to alienate her. He'd be here a lot because of Serena. Best to keep the peace. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm working."

"And you have my number, but you never seem to call me when you're not working." She trailed her fingertips up his chest.

He knew the action was supposed to be enticing, but somebody should probably tell his dick that. As annoyed as he was, he wanted to be careful with her feelings. After all, he did value his contract here, even if he didn't need it anymore. And he didn't want to make shit difficult for Serena in any way. "I'm always working. And I'm about to start classes, so there's not a lot of time for dating."

"Who said anything about dating?"

Yeah, who'd said anything? his dick protested in a flicker of interest. It had been a long time since he'd worked out the kinks, three months maybe. Hell, he couldn't remember. And it hadn't been great anyway. Just some girl he'd picked up in a bar. She'd looked like Serena. Maybe that was his problem. He'd slept with her, but the whole thing had left him...unsatisfied. He'd still woken up with that gnawing, craving feeling…and not for the woman in his bed.

"Every woman deserves a guy who wants to shower her with attention. Right now, I'm not that guy." And that was the truth.

Her face fell, but she whispered, "Where the hell were you when I was nineteen?"

Struggling to keep his father above water with the medical bills and keeping the business afloat. He wouldn't have been that guy then either. But he didn't tell her that. "Dunno."

She shifted in her heels as if she didn't know what to do with herself. "Okay. I hear you. Maybe sometime you'll be that guy." Probably not. But again, he kept that to himself. "But, even if you're not that guy, why don't you come by sometime? I'll put you on as my guest, free shows in my room?"

"Maybe sometime."

She sauntered away, and he exhaled.

Mark laughed as he handed him the inventory slip. "My, to be Tyson Leigh for a day. So much pussy thrown your way, you're turning it down. Want to tell me what was wrong with Amber?"

Stripper. Desperate, inauthentic. Not Serena. "Nothing. Just not interested."

He was more excited to see Serena for dinner than at the prospect of seeing Amber naked. Yeah, he knew it. He needed help.