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I text him back, asking if we can reschedule, even though I already know what his answer will be. I know how to get him to come see me again, but I’d rather use it as a last resort.
He confirms my suspicion just a few minutes later, texting to say he doesn’t think it’s a good idea to date, given what he does for a living.
I put the phone face down on my desk and try to finish up some work first, but I can feel it right next to me, and it’s hard to concentrate. Once I finish half the spreadsheet, I pick my phone up again and open Rhys’s last message.
I stare at his name on the screen, remembering the feel of his lips against mine before he left my apartment the other night. So soft and strong at the same time. The little noise he made in the back of his throat when I slid my tongue into his mouth.
Am I really willing to never experience that again just because I’m nervous?
Before I talk myself out of it, I send him another text, telling him I’ll pay him for his time.
Three little dots appear under my message, then disappear. Then another three for a few seconds before those disappear too.
I swallow hard and lay my phone back down on my desk. This isn’t how I wanted to see him again. It’s not about the money; paying him isn’t an issue. It’s that it makes me feel like everyone else in his life. Even if I know I won’t treat him that way. I paid for his time at the party to get him away from Phil, and he seemed okay with it.
I lean back in my chair and stare up at the ceiling. The way Rhys looked at me when he realized I was cooking dinner for him keeps playing in my head. He’d said it’d been a long time since someone cooked for him, but I think it was more than that. I think it had been a long time since anyone had been kind to him.
My phone dings with another message from Rhys, and I open it quickly.
Rhys: Time and place. I’ll be there.
Five
Rhys
My nerves are jumping when I leave Tony’s place to see Parker Wednesday night. Tony had been pissed when Parker had used my real name in front of the burger place. As soon as we were out of earshot, Tony had pushed me up against the building and demanded to know why I’d told one of my clients my real name.
It wasn’t the first time one had asked for it. It’s not really uncommon. But Tony had acted like it was the end of the world.
I wish it had never happened. Not because Tony was angry about it but because I hate that Parker saw me with Tony. Realistically, I know he had no idea who Tony was. He probably thought he was just another client. But just after those two times I met Parker, he felt different from the rest of my life.
It’s probably why I’m dreading seeing him so much. I’d built Parker up in my head as someone different. Someone who wouldn’t use me like the clients. But that was obviously a mistake.
When I step into his apartment, Parker’s watching me as if he’s afraid I’m going to run. Given that we met because he took me away from another client, it’s a fair thing to assume. And I desperately want to run. But I risked enough when I let Parker take me away from Phil. Parker had been gentle then. Kind. Maybe this won’t be so bad.
He seems kind of nervous but not like he’s scared of getting caught. I’m not sure what it is, but I give him the smile I’ve mastered, the one that says he doesn’t need to worry about anything because I’ll take care of him.
“You okay?”
He nods. “I was worried about you. The guy you were with when I saw you…he seemed—”
“He was no one,” I interrupt, moving a hand to his shoulder, rubbing my thumb along the soft fabric of his shirt. “Besides, I’m with you now. Do you really want to spend our time talking about someone else?”
I lean up on tiptoe and press my lips to his, rewarded with the slow slide of his tongue into my mouth. For how shy and nervous he is, Parker’s a fucking amazing kisser. It’s like he’s fucking my mouth with his tongue, and it heats my blood quickly.
It’s not the first time I’ve been into what I’m doing with a client, and I’m not surprised I feel that way with Parker. I liked him from the moment we met.
I break our kiss so I can move my lips down his neck, to the collar of his shirt. His skin is warm and inviting.
“You want to move to the bed?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
He glances behind him, as if he just now remembered he even had a bed. “Oh, um…”
When he trails off, I take a step closer to him and slide a hand up his arm. I keep my fingers gentle, silently telling him to relax. His nervousness is kind of cute, even though I don’t want to think that.
“We can go as slow as you want to go,” I tell him.
He meets my eyes. “I’m not expecting anything. I just wanted to see you again.”
