By the time we were locking up, I wanted to quit on the spot. I could only handle so much before I was set to explode. Heat seared into my spine, traveling up and across my shoulder blades and down my torso. It burned. Stung. I wanted to force my skeleton out from under my skin.
My throat was raw from roaring over the chaos. I was thirsty for something thicker than alcohol. My hands shook with the need to hold—to feel something soft in my palms. I needed a connection. I didn’t want to fall asleep alone.
Crescent Planes looked so different after sundown. From the outside, it looked calmer and sounded quieter. Lights of all colors mixed with the shallow rain puddles littering the asphalt.
The city was beautiful like this. But it held secrets within it, ones that most people didn’t see unless they looked for it. There was a hidden atmosphere of unspeakable acts whispered into the dead of night.
An atmosphere I was intentionally looking for.
Headlights blinded me from the left as I pulled down the street. Fat droplets of rain dripped onto the windshield, forcing a kaleidoscope of colors to bloom into a hazy painting. New York was nearing its winter months, the nights falling colder than the disappearing fall days.
My car’s engine hummed as it idled. I was parked further down the sidewalk, focusing on the men lining it. The other side had a smaller number of women dressed in just as revealing clothing despite the cold,harsh rain soaking them and the ground. I watched and surveyed, looking for someone to catch my eye.
Two years ago, I would have been consumed with guilt and shame. I was used to it now. I had accepted my reality, though I wasn’t proud of it. Friendships were difficult for me, and relationships were taunting. One-night stands took an ounce of charm, which I didn’t have the energy to fake.
The men on the sidewalk didn’t give a shit. It was a mutual agreement with sometimes an outrageous amount of money that didn’t come with complications. All I wanted was the feel of someone else’s skin on mine, if only for one night. It reminded me I was human. It made the itching cease long enough that I could go another week or two without doing this again.
A silhouette of a man caught my attention from further down the street. He had his back to the wall behind him, one foot propped up against it, and his head turned up. His face was obscured by the hood of his jacket.
He was the most sensibly dressed, leaving far more to the imagination than most of the others out here. The clothes he wore looked nicer too, at least from the bit I could see under the streetlamp and city lights. What stood out the most was how alone he was. Almost as though the others were avoiding him, huddled together in groups closer to where I was parked.
For a moment, I wondered if he was a sex worker at all. I felt pulled to him, much like the man with arctic eyes in the motel lobby.
Just as he kicked off the wall and began walking, I pulled my car up next to him. I rolled down my window and matched his pace despite the rain flowing through it.
He slowed, turning towards my car. When he stopped completely, so did I. Bending to peer through my window, he stared at me with a frigid gaze. “Yo, you lost?”
I saw his back tense just as all the muscles in my body did. “Arctic eyes.”
“Amber eyes.”
We looked at each other, both assessing the other in awe. He cleared his throat and looked away, repeating his question. “You lost?”
“Uh, no, I’m not lost.”
“Then what do you want?” He pushed his hands into his hoodie pockets. The side of his bottom lip pulled into his mouth, his teeth biting down onto it.
I narrowed my eyes at him, squinting at the purple and black bruise around his eye. “You working?”
“You payin’?”
“What, do I look like I’m expecting a freebie?”
He shrugged, a smirk playing at the edge of his mouth. “Kinda. You sorta look like an older, more emo version of Prince Charming.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or take that as a compliment. “What does that even mean?” Either way, he looked like he was freezing his ass off, and I wanted to calm the itch that had been begging for him since I first saw him.
Half expecting him to turn around and walk away, I tried to urge him on by unlocking the car door. He pulled the handle and plopped into the passenger seat. “Where to, Prince Charming?”
I could hear the exhaustion in his voice. I wondered how long he’d been out in the rain, how many people he’d slept with tonight alone. The pull in my chest, in my soul, only grew tighter. I wanted to get him into a warm room and give him an easy job with enough money that he could stop for the night. “Hotel on Cross Street.”
“Not the motel up the road?” He pulled the sun visor down, running a hand through his hair with the help of the mirror. It looked like he hadn’t had it done in a while, his brown roots making their way down the sides and fading into the longer part at the back.
The cut accentuated his features, the wavy texture adding volume to the back and short sides. His side profile was breathtaking. I could almost see the remnants of melting ice against his cheek, just under the ice of his gorgeous, captivating eyes.
Realizing I was staring, I cut my attention to the road and began to drive. “Moe’s Ass Shack? Hell no. If I’m paying for your time, I can pay for somewhere that isn’t roach-infested.”
“Works for me. If I’m gonna get thrown around, I’d much rather do it without beady little eyes watching me.”
