I Love Her Anyway

Jonathan allowed his eyes to flutter shut as he sat down in his stall. He tuned out the loud locker room conversation as booming laughter echoed off the walls. Jonathan didn't join in though, he missed the joke entirely. And something told him that it was highly likely that he was the butt of the joke anyway.

He was just grateful that he was finally granted the chance to rest. After tossing his wet gloves and helmet aside, he leaned back and sighed deeply. It was a shock that he even made it through the entire practice without collapsing on the ice. The captain couldn't recall the last time he was so exhausted.

"What's wrong, Jonny boy?" A voice sang, footsteps nearing him as the words hung in the air. "Out too late with your stripper girl?" Patrick laughed, tossing a towel at the slouched hockey player. Though his eyelids felt as if someone had poured sand in them, Jonathan opened his eyes to glare at his friend.

"Shut up," he growled in warning tone, catching the attention of a few guys around him. Patrick let out an airy laugh, throwing his head back for extra emphasis.

"I'm in love with a stripper," Patrick recited the lyrics to the ancient T-Pain song, a finger hooking the hem of his underarmor as he swayed his hips, lifting the shirt to show off his abs. Jonathan clenched his fists at his sides as he leaned forward upon hearing the laughs arise from his teammates.

"I swear to fucking god, I'll-" he was cut off in mid sentence when a heavy hand was placed on his shoulder. Patrick stopped singing instantaneously and he lifted his hands in the air to show his innocence.

"Hit the showers, Tazer," Patrick Sharp's voice filled his ears. With a nod, Jonathan sighed. He knew there was no use in getting worked up over Kaner's jabs. It was just the locker room environment. Jonathan dragged himself to the showers, anticipating the feeling of his clean skin against his bed sheets as soon as he arrived home.

It proved to be incredibly difficult for Jonathan to just stand by while his friends poked fun at him for Calista. The muscles in his jaw tightened as the subject crossed his mind once again and he resisted the urge to march right over and let his fist collide with Patrick's jaw. They didn't know her; they had no right to even mention her name.

Jon wasn't embarrassed though - at least he didn't think he was. Sure, her choice of work wasn't morally acceptable in society, but that didn't reflect on who she was as a person, did it? Jonathan shook his head to himself as the hot water mixed with his sweat. Of course it didn't. He knew Calista well enough to know that she was a good person regardless of how she made her money. Besides, it wasn't like she was robbing banks or anything.

;;;;;;

Calista's bra was probably a size too small. Her breasts spilled over the top of the black cups which had been bejeweled when she bought it. The back room was cold after the door had been open all day since some of the girls decided to smoke weed earlier. As her fingers feverishly wizzed across the small keyboard at lightening speed, a wave of chills swept over the bare skin of her stomach. It was a busy night, as Friday nights always were. Calista could hear the chatter even over the deafening music that vibrated the floor under her.

"You over work yourself, sweetie," one of the veterans, Lucy told her as she took another long puff of her cigarette. Calista removed her eyes from glowing laptop screen for just a moment before they fixed back on the Word document.

"This essay isn't just going to write itself, Luce," she mumbled as she flipped through pages of her textbook in a frenzy. Lucy's cigarette hit the floor and she crushed the ember with her heel before putting a brand new one to her lipstick lined lips.

Calista wasn't exactly sure how old Lucy was or how long she had worked in the club; no one did. Maybe Lucy herself had even long forgotten. Calista, however, was sure Lucy was well into her forties and had a few children, but you would never guess her age. She was tempted to ask the strip club veteran how she maintained her youth so well on multiple occasions. But just like every other girl in the club, she was terrified of stepping on Lucy's toes. Getting on the bad side of the joint's most loyal and hardest working veteran was a terrible idea if you wanted to keep your job and bank hours on the busiest nights.

"I think it's great that you're workin' on gettin' your ass outta this place, Allura," Lucy spoke as she watched her own reflection in the vanity mirror. The hand that didn't hold her cigarette raised to release a hot curler from her freshly dyed deep red hair. "I wish I woulda done that years ago," she admitted.

Calista formed a bond with Lucy early on in her career at the club. It was clear to her immediately that most of the younger girls were money hungry and despised any competition that could potentially steal their customers away. The jealous strippers tried every trick in the book to scare Calista away and it probably would have worked if it weren't for Lucy standing behind her. Though the two had no clue of the other's real name, they just happened to click from the start.

Calista didn't get the chance reply before the club's owner rushed in to announce that she was due to be on stage in just a few minutes. Anton was the typical dirty old man that you avoided when you went out to the bar. Though Calista knew he had good intentions, he seemingly always succeeded in making someone feel uncomfortable; usually one of the girls that he paid salary at the end of the night.

This was the part of the night that Calista dreaded most. Delivering drinks and even taking men into private rooms occasionally didn't bother her much. Getting up on stage, however, actually made her skin crawl. It was something about a room full of men staring at her and only her all at once that made her feel so small. She'd learned long ago to force that feeling away and turn on her confidence though. A timid stripper didn't bring home money.

She closed her laptop and shoved it into her bag along with her books. After zipping it closed, she hung it in her metal locker and her fingers worked the combination lock with skill that only came with experience. Things went missing around here quite often which wasn't all that surprising. After all, making the decision to be a stripper was normally the last resort when a woman was in tough spot financially. Calista learned that the hard way when half of her tips went missing a few times.

"Here sweetie," Lucy handed her the bright red lipstick from the vanity. Calista smiled at her before coating her lips twice. "Now go out there and make your cash," she said with a small, sad smile. Lucy hated to see the younger girls resort to this; it broke her heart. She was once in their shoes and knew they had so much more potential, just like she had. Unfortunately, Lucy didn't have that revelation until years later when it was far too late. Besides, the fast income was hard to beat when you had mouths to feed at home.

Jonathan took a sip of his Gentleman Jack, his dark and mysterious eyes set on the stage before him. He leaned back in his chair as her name was announced over the speaker and the first notes of her usual song began to fill his ears.

She took long strides down the catwalk with a hypnotic smirk graced upon her perfect lips. A sour taste prickled at Jonathan's tastebuds as he observed all the depraved men that drank her body in, waving their dollar bills in the air hoping to gain her attention.

He sighed and flicked his eyes to the ceiling for a brief moment, feeling the jealousy pump through his veins. It only got more intense when he saw her hand disappear behind her back before her bra fell lose around her and tumbled to the floor just before she collected a few bills. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat as she took a step forward, her breast bouncing as she did so.

Her gaze connected with his just then as her fingers pulled the gumband from her loose ponytail, letting her luscious long curls fall haphazardly around her collarbones.

Jonathan's tongue darted across his bottom lip as the rest of the spectators faded into the background. All he could see was Calista as her eyes burned through him, her lips forming a scandalous pout.

Suddenly, he stood from his chair and dropped his drink onto the table, nearly cracking the glass as the contents spilled over the brim. He couldn't take it anymore; it was unbearable. Jonathan tossed a few loose bills on the table top and made a beeline towards the door. Once outside, he took a long inhale of the fresh air and leaned against the cold brick building. Jonathan scolded himself. He was envious of every man in that room that was lustfully eyeing Calista's exposed body. And well, that just wasn't a good sign for someone who didn't entertain the idea of falling in love with a stripper.