The brain was humanity’s greatest curse, something I never thought he could be affected by.
Knowing that he, too, could fall victim to it chipped away another piece of my guarded heart. Not for the first time, I found myself looking at him with interest. I was curious about his mind and what was weighing so heavily on it that he’d chosen a street corner to try and alleviate it.
Almost like me.
But nothing like me.
Price would never deserve punishment like I do.
A plate was set in front of me, startling me out of my thoughts. Price looked at me with a guarded expression on his face, something I could easily spot if only because it was my default.
What sat before me was a meal unlike any I’d ever seen before. Perfectly uniform noodles twirled around themselves on a mound of sauce. I could see flecks of spice in it, a tantalizing scent lifting to my tender nose. Vegetables sat neatly amongst the sauce, ones I hadn’t realized existed in the fridge.
The cut on them was also perfect, like each slice was methodically cut the same size, down to the millimeter. Tomatoes, spring onions, and a hint of carrot danced around thin shavings of cheese.
My mouth watered as I ate with my eyes. My stomach growled deep and low, echoing in the silent space around me. I internally cringed when I realized Price was still staring at me. “Let’s eat at the table,” I suggested.
The sorry excuse for a dining table Willow and I used was small. When Price sank onto one of the two shitty chairs, it creaked under his weight. I followed suit, knowing the chair I chose would do the same.
With a deep breath, I finally answered Price’s question. It had hung in the air long enough, and I was still no closer to an appropriate response than I was earlier. “I didn’t go to the corner for work.”
He nodded, twirling a fork into the pasta on his plate. “As you’ve said.”
I almost didn’t want to ruin the beauty that sat in front of me. Price plated the pasta like it was about to be used in a photo for a magazine. Stabbing into it felt wrong, but I did it anyway so I could shove food into my mouth as soon as I finished speaking.
In the tiniest, quietest voice I could muster, I mumbled, “I’m a mess, too. I thought if I went there, pretended like I was allowed to exist somewhere familiar, that I’d feel better.”
I didn’t wait for his response, filling my mouth with food instead. An explosion of flavors caught on my tongue as a groan unwillingly escaped me.
“Is it good?” Price laughed.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I nodded vigorously. “Holy fuck, it’s amazing. Y’all don’t cook this shit at work.”
He shook his head with a smirk. “No, we don’t. I don’t cook our menu when I’m not there.”
“Dude, this is the best fucking spaghetti I’ve ever had.” I shoveled in another mouthful, torn between savoring it and devouring it all in one go.
A slight wince flashed across Price’s face as he swallowed a bite. “It’s not just spaghetti.” He shook his head. “Well, maybe it is. Depends on who you ask. It’s tagliatelle with a ragu-esque sauce mixed with some fried veggies, topped with grated cheese I found in the fridge.”
Wow. That was a lot of words that meant a whole bunch of nothing to my minuscule knowledge of food. “That’s really cool. I’ll never call it spaghetti again. You make me feel like I shouldn’t even be eating it.”
He laughed again, a sharp, shocked one that ended with a growly clearing of his throat. I wanted to hear it again. And again. And again. Fuck, his laugh was mesmerizing.
After a few more mouthfuls and many, many agreeing moans from me, Price looked up from his plate. His brows were pinched as if he was picking through words inside his mind. “At the risk of sounding like an uncouth man, it’s been a while since I’ve gone this long without picking someone up—one-night stand or otherwise. It’s… one less distraction I have in my arsenal.”
I slowed my eating as I listened. I nodded in understanding, takingmy time to find the right words as well. “I haven’t had a break this long since I was maybe seventeen. Iamuncouth, so I can say that.” Price chuckled at that, the sound more than music to my ears. The vibrations it carried settled something in my chest. It was like his laughter fit inside of me. Close to me. The sound belonged on my skin, right against me.
I shook my head, trying to get my bearings. “I’m not used to it. I’m a prostitute. That’s what I do. I guess I don’t adjust well to change.”Nor do I adjust well when I can’t get punished.
No, that wasn’t true. Being a whore wasn’t a punishment. It was my choice; it was my decision. It’s what I wanted.
I had to want it.
I didn’t have a choice but to want it.
“Am I right in saying our agreement has been a bit difficult for both of us?” Price tipped a glass of water against his lips, drinking it slowly.
I shrugged and busied myself with grabbing our empty plates, rushing them to the kitchen. “You could say that, sure. I’ll be fine once I start back up. Just need to find new areas, I guess.”
