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“Nash, it was good to meet you,” Dad said. “Sorry about this.” He stood up.
Mom stood too. “Honey, I’ll call you soon. Nash, lovely meeting you.”
“Same to you, Tracey, Chris. Please, we’ll do this again soon.”
“Of course.”
Mom smiled and they left quickly.
We sat back down and Nash looked at me. “Your dad okay?”
“Cancer,” I said.
“Shit,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“The chemo makes him sick. I guess he just hit his limit.”
I hated that the meal had ended like that. Nash and I sat there in silence, picking at our food, Nash finishing off his third whisky. For all their jokes, it had still felt really good to see my parents and to forget for one second that I was lying to them. Dad had looked pretty bad, and seeing him that way had only solidified my resolve to see this whole thing through.
“So that’s why you’re doing this,” Nash said. “I figured it was something like that.”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “I guess so. The money is for them.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything else. We finished our food, he paid, and we left.
We didn’t talk much in the car ride back to the hotel. I was distracted thinking about my parents, and I had no clue what was going on with him.
Seeing Dad had made everything real. Sure, Nash was an asshole, and getting involved with him was so clearly an awful idea. But my parents needed that money, and they loved me enough to fly out to Providence, even with Dad was so sick.
I was going to finish this. Regardless of what happened, I had to do it for my parents.
I caught Nash looking at me, and a thrill ran through me.
26
Nash
“This is hard.”
I looked at her and shrugged. “Never said it would be easy.
“Seriously, Nash,” she said, frowning. We were sitting back in our hotel room, sipping drinks from room service. Some crappy reality TV show was playing but we weren’t paying attention.
“You saw how sick my dad looked,” she said. “He couldn’t even make it through the meal.”
“He did look bad,” I said, frowning.
“I hate that I have to lie to him.” She stretched out, and I could tell she was a little drunk. “You know what I mean?”
“Sure,” I said, sipping my whisky.
“Ugh. This sucks.” She finished her drink. “Can I get another one of these?”
“Sure,” I said, grinning. I called up room service and asked for a bottle of gin, some tonic water, ice, and a glass. I also ordered another whisky for myself.
“You can be so nice sometimes,” Selena said. “When you’re not being a jerk.”
I grinned at her and sat down on the couch. She scooted closer to me. “You think I’m a jerk?”
“Uh, yeah, obviously,” she said. “You’re a huge ass.”
“Thanks,” I said. “You’re a princess.”
“Oh don’t be a big baby,” she said. “You’re an asshole with a nice cock.” She sat up and covered her mouth, giggling. “Did I just say that?”
“You’re drunker than I realized,” I said, laughing. “But thank you. I’m glad you like my cock.”
“It’s a great cock,” she said. “So hard. So big. I like to feel it in my mouth and in my pussy.”
Fuck. That great cock was suddenly rock hard. She was pretty drunk, which wasn’t the most attractive thing in the world, but I couldn’t help my physical responses. When a fucking sexy woman complimented my cock, it listened.
“You’re pretty wasted, aren’t you?”
She giggled again. “Just speaking the truth. I’m stressed and angry and sad about my dad, and you’re a big asshole most of the time, but your cock really helps with my stress.”
“I’m here to serve.”
She put her hand on my chest. “Good. I like when you serve me. Serve me that sex!”
I laughed at her. “Are you trying to seduce me?”
“Is it working?”
“Yes and no.”
“No?” She pouted. I wanted to kiss her lips, slip my dick into her mouth, fuck her rough. But she was just too drunk and it would feel wrong. “Why not?”
“You’re too drunk,” I said, smiling. “You know I want to fuck you until you can’t stand, but I’m pretty sure you’ll vomit on me.”
Just then, the room service came. Selena jumped up and intercepted me before I could send them away. She took the drinks inside and started to make herself another gin and tonic while I tipped the guy.
When he was gone, she looked at me, sipping her drink. “I am not too drunk to fuck,” she said.
I laughed, shaking my head. “Maybe not, but I’d rather not find out.”
“Why not?” She stepped closer to me, a little unsteady, staring into my eyes. “You don’t want to feel my pussy wrapped around that big dick?”
“You know I do,” I grunted, stepping back.
She took a huge sip and then put her glass down on a table. Without another word, she stripped her shirt off and stared at me.
