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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
*Lace*
The sun has entirely changed positions, now descending in the sky. Along with its descent, the clouds have darkened, giving the impression of it being later than it likely really is. We are all exhausted; the proof is in every droopy eye and deepened facial wrinkle.
“Anyone have the time?” I inquire.
The three voices still remaining chime in in unison in various versions of “thirty minutes past four.”
“Any reason why we are still sticking around here?” I yawn. Coming down off the cocktail of pills is going to be a bitch tomorrow if how sleepy I feel now is any indicator. I very well might have to beg Brodi for something to counter it or else risk crashing hard and fast. “Better yet, any chance someone can take me to the condo so I can nap before the pageant tonight?”
Not that I should waste absolutely any time at all sleeping. Roughly five hours, give or take, are down the drain already. In the sex work industry, the more a customer talks, the more they unintentionally leak information. That little trick is a primary one up our garter belts when it comes to getting the most out of the men we serve.
Kio knows something.
I needed him to talk.
I tried.
I failed.
Now, I am running low on ideas for ways to get information without just sitting them down and flat out interrogating them one by one.
Chaz shakes his head. “No, crowd interactions start in just over an hour. By the time we get you some food and get over there, we will be cutting it close.” He hooks his arm around me and squeezes. “I hope you aren’t trying to flake on me. You need this, Lace. We all do.”
Chaz is right, and I kinda hate it.
Doing this pageant is so far out in left field compared to our usual, but being involved is the only thing separating our grind with something outside of the box — something fun.
Speaking of fun… Kal changed the questions. “No more funny business planned tonight, right?” I ask, crossing my arms under my breasts.
Chaz draws a cross over his heart and flashes me a big smile. “No funny business was planned yesterday. Not by Brodi and me at least.” His eyebrows curve a little. “Sorry about the questions.”
I nearly roll my eyes so hard it hurts. Chaz covering for Kal. Typical. Someone is always covering for him. Guess that’s a perk of being in charge. “Kal told me it was him.”
“He did what now?”
“Is Brodi judging again?” I ask, trying to reroute the topic, suddenly worried I said something that was meant to stay between Kal and me.
“Skrrrrt. Stop. Back up. Kal told you what was him?”
Great. Way to go, Lace. “He changed the questions. Sorry, I thought you knew. Can we talk about something else now?”
“Yeah, sure. But not before you understand that Brodi and I have been more than fucked up with worry that you hated us after that.”
Aww, they were worried that I was upset with them? Okay, that makes me a little warm and tingly inside. But still… “So you decided to make it better by lying via an apology?”
“You deserve one! You deserve more than an apology. For a lot of things. I figured it was a start, regardless.”
Zane, bogged down and slinking at this point, not so casually tries to get us moving toward the parking area.
I reach out to try to grab a few bags, but despite weary arms, he is quick to pull them away from me. He even flashes me an adorable smile. “Careful with all that casual gentlemanliness,” I warn. The fix Bae provided has well and truly worn off since, and all those pesky needs are quickly returning.
“No worries,” Chaz pipes in. “Zane is careful about everything. That’s precisely why we all like him so much.”
Zane gives me a shy glance, his curls falling over his taupe eyes. I meet his gaze and lock in, holding it a bit longer than he is comfortable with. He looks away, his throat constricting over a massive swallow.
After being with the likes of Bae, I struggle to imagine how different things might go with Zane. Not even my healthy imagination can pull any ideas.
