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"Listen. Avery." I reached out and squeezed her hands, which was as much contact as I could allow myself. "Last night is on me. I'm the one who took you drinking and convinced you to do those shots. I'm the one who asked you to dance and then started manhandling you. I'm really sorry."
She looked up at me. "You don't need to be sorry. You hired me as your date. You were doing what you were supposed to."
"And so were you," I said, trying to soothe her. "But I won't ask you to do that again. At least…not the last batch of stuff we did."
"Oh." She looked stricken. "Okay."
I squeezed her hands again, trying to reassure her. "Not because you did anything wrong or that I didn't like last night—of course I did."
A hot blush started to creep up her cheeks. "I asked you to come here to pretend to be my girlfriend in the public eye," I explained gently. "I didn't ask you to come here so I could take advantage of you."
Her face was a miserable shade of red. "But you didn't take advantage of me. I wanted to do…that last batch of stuff with you. I didn't do it because I thought I had to. Even though I am a hooker." Her chin wobbled almost imperceptibly.
"Don't cry," I said. "Fuck."
"I'm not." Her voice sounded thick with unshed tears.
"I guess I'm making this worse." I sighed. "Listen. I want you to be here, and I wanted to be with you last night. But I don't want you to think that you're going to have to…service me like that for the rest of the time you're here. Because that's not who I am. Last night was a one-off."
"Got it." Her voice sounded neutral now, as if she'd wrangled it back under control. She dropped her hands from mine and grabbed a towel. "We're going out tomorrow, right?"
"Right." I searched her face. The blush was fading, and the chin wobble was no longer detectable.
She stopped on her way to the bathroom and turned back. "I don't have to go with you, you know. If you need some space."
"No—I want you to come," I said. "We're shopping for our new condo together, remember?" I grinned at her, trying to lighten the mood. "You sort of need to be there."
She plastered what was clearly a fake smile to her face and nodded. "Of course."
Avery disappeared behind the door, and I was left there, feeling as though I'd messed something important up very, very badly.
A playbook is what I need. A playbook for women.
They were definitely trickier than football.
Chapter Ten
AVERY
The next morning I went through my clothes, selecting them carefully. Elena had packed some white jeans and a fitted, patterned coral tank top for me. I tried the outfit on and looked at my reflection in the mirror, pulling my hair over one shoulder.
I couldn't imagine having a closet filled with clothes like these. For being so hungover so recently, I looked much better than I should. Pretty even.
But still not good enough for Chase Layne.
I understood his position. He didn't want to take advantage of me, and a guy like Chase didn't have to pay for sex. I respected the fact that he didn't want me to…service him again. He was above that sort of conduct, and I admired him for it.
I blew out a sigh and regarded my eyes in the mirror. I was not going to let what happened between us send me into a spiral of self-hate. I was working as an escort because I needed the money. I'd had all sorts of honest jobs, and I hadn't been able to come close to getting ahead. I wasn't going to torture myself for wanting that.
Plus, I'd had fun with him. I couldn't remember the last time I'd relaxed and had fun. Maybe never.
And I'd loved the sex. I'd definitely never loved sex before.
But the fact was, it wasn't going to be like that with me and Chase. We were strictly for show.
You're only pretending to be in his league, I reminded myself.
r /> So I was going to wear the nice clothes Elena had sent me, hold his hand and smile in public, and keep all of my other body parts to myself…even though they wanted him. Bad.
