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But the occasional BJs for money? Yeah. That.
Kizzy frowned so deeply she could’ve popped a blood vessel in her light green eyes. “Then how do you know the size of his freaking tool, Mia?”
“I bumped into it.” With all five of my fingers and my palm. Close enough.
“Right. Sure. Uh-huh.”
“Trust me, Kiz, he’s a decent size. Besides, am I gonna be fighting his prick?” I smothered a snort. “Can we please move on now?”
>
Despite our height difference, she inched up on her tiptoes and gripped my shoulders. In Kizzy’s mind, she was six feet taller than everyone else. “He’s the type of guy who’ll screw you up and leave you begging for more. I don’t want to see you hurt.” She gave me a little grin. “Internally anyway.”
“We live in a fucked up world, you get that right? What we do for money, it’s not normal. Around here, it’s not even legal.”
“Who says what’s normal? I say, follow your bliss.” She blinked up at me. “He asked me if you were getting out.”
My stomach knotted. I didn’t want to be affected that he cared about my safety. And I definitely didn’t want to start making assumptions that he gave a damn. It didn’t matter if he did.
We were adversaries. He was my ticket to a payout. Nothing more, nothing less.
I flipped my wet braid over my shoulder, well aware it was already fraying. Story of my life. “What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t tell him anything. We both know that depends on him. If financially you feel you can afford to go.”
“I will go,” I said softly.
She tugged hard on the cord of her hoodie. “Why do you have to fight him? Why can’t it be someone else?”
“It has to be him, Kiz.” I’d answered this question a million times already. I didn’t want to answer it again. Squeezing her arm, I stepped away. “Talk to you later.”
As I strolled back to Fox, he watched me with cool, assessing eyes. They were tranquil like the Caribbean, but his emotions boiled beneath the surface. We were alike that way, though I hated that I could see similarities between us when I needed to see differences.
I needed to hate him—or better yet, feel nothing at all. And so far, I just…couldn’t.
“Heading back?” He unfolded his long, lanky frame from his puny folding chair. “I’ll walk you.”
See, stuff like this couldn’t keep happening. We were not dating. He wasn’t my buddy.
“No, thanks.” I kept my voice as chilly as I could while eyeing the obvious erection in his sweats. Hello there, massive boner. Nice to see you again so soon.
Did he really have to make things so difficult for me? Not that I’d ever been particularly smitten with penises before, but I rather liked his.
Judging from its readiness to greet me, the sentiment was mutual.
“C’mon, don’t be like that. We’re heading the same place after all.” He sauntered down the hall. He obviously expected me to scamper behind him like one of his little ring card girls, giggling and simpering for attention. Like hell.
Gritting my teeth, I followed and strode out the door he held open. Then I kept walking. The snow-laden air slapped me in the face, freezing the drops of water still clinging to my skin, but I didn’t slow down. He could chase after me.
Without comment, he fell into step beside me. We’d gone almost a block in tense silence when he spoke. “Where’s your jacket?”
Not his jacket, but mine. Panic seized me as I glanced up at him and squinted from the watery halo of sunshine behind his head. As stupid as it was, I loved that coat already. “Fuck, I forgot it.” I turned back.
He grabbed my arm. “I’ve got it. Wait here.” He didn’t give me a chance to argue.
His long steps ate up the pavement as he rushed toward the gym. He must’ve realized this neighborhood was not the place to be leaving leather goods around. Even ones that were a little battle-worn.
Five minutes later, he jogged back to me, jacket in hand and a wry grin on his annoyingly attractive face. Wanting to put even the slightest dent in it seemed like a crime against nature.
