Page 16 of Strings Attached


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And he was fucking hot. It was his looks that got us in this mess in the first place. “Like a baby or a puppy?” I asked, more snap to my voice than I’d intended, but really? Cute? We’d spent a whole night fucking, and now because I was his son’s friend, I was suddenly cute?

“No.” Harrison took a small step toward me, close enough that I could smell his cologne over car engines and the trash of the city. His coffee was in his hand, but I didn’t see the cake. Had he already eaten it? Why it mattered, I couldn’t figure out, but it gave me something to concentrate on. “The last thing I’d compare you to is a baby or a puppy, but in case you forgot, we’re supposed to be good. You’re my son’s friend.”

My breathing picked up. He licked his lips, and he had coffee on his breath. I remembered what it felt like to have his hands on me, his dick inside me. It was those thoughts I blamed for my response. “Who?” Shit. “I mean, Ross. I know that. I just…” Had lust-brain fog? I took a step back and hit the wall of a pawnshop we were standing beside. Harrison moved away from me as well. “I wasn’t saying I want you to think of me as… You know what? Never mind. We’re getting off-track.”

A deep rumble of a laugh fell from Harrison’s lips. “And what track is that? You being mad at me for being a nice person?”

“No! God, it’s weird. We had sex, and now you’re tipping me and shit like that. It feels like…”

“Oh.”

“Not that I have a problem with sex work, but that’s just not what this is. I don’t want special treatment because we hooked up.”

“In my defense, it had nothing to do with that. I tip everyone, Zander, generously, because that was me once—the waiter, the barista—and those tips helped me survive. I bought you dinner because I was buying it for Ross and me. As for offering for you to stay in the apartment for free after everything went down with us, that was my son, not me, though I agree with him. I know you well enough not to make the offer.”

I frowned. “I think you almost just did…and you don’t know me. Not really.” Forget that I’d recently thought the same thing about him, that I knew him. We’d had one night together, and that was all. Still, I put it together from what I saw of him, and I had bits and pieces of him that Ross had shared with me.

“I know you’re confident yet vulnerable, even though you try not to show the last one. I know you’re funny, and that you’re determined when you set your mind to something, whether it’s teaching or going home with a man you meet at a bar.” I opened my mouth, but he cut me off. “And before you say it, not in a pushy way. You never pressured me. You just let me know what you wanted and gave me the choice, which I respect. You’re also incredibly passionate about education. I saw it that night, and I’ve heard it from Ross. You’re hardworking and independent. I’m not sure you know that it’s okay to accept help sometimes. That it’s actually a sign of strength. I didn’t get where I am on my own, and—”

“Stop.” I held my hand up, and he obeyed. Was my voice trembling? Why did it shake on that single word? Maybe it was because I’d never heard myself described that way, so…detailed, never saw myself like this through someone else’s eyes. Someone like Harrison.

“Zander, I apologize if I said something wrong. And in your defense, I did have to bite my tongue not to tell you that working as a barista and teaching would be too much. I’m aware it’s none of my business. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Thank you for admitting that. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, though. I know what I’m doing.”

Harrison nodded. “And I’ve been known to spoil people on occasion.”

“No! You?” I teased, and we started walking again.

“It’s hard…when you come from nothing, when you’re not used to having anything and then suddenly you do… It’s hard not to want to share it. Does that make sense?”

We were clearly doing this, walking and talking. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but I didn’t stop. “Yeah, though not everyone is like that. A lot of people let it go to their heads and become selfish.”

“Not really my style,” he admitted. “I don’t know how much Ross has told you, but I grew up in the foster care system. I don’t know where my parents are. They chose their partying lifestyle over me. I was taken away, and eventually they stopped coming to see me. I was young and dumb when I got Ross’s mom pregnant, but it was a wake-up call. My child wasn’t going to live the life I’d lived. He was always going to be taken care of, provided for, and know he was loved.”

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