She grinned wider. “I’m serious! Imagine this: He’s filming, you’re sitting in the corner taking notes for your essay,and then he calls you over because you’re the only one who can keep him hard. You’d have him wrapped around your finger.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous. It’s pretty fucking hot. And powerful.” She reached out to grab my arms. “You’d stop feeling like the quiet one in the room. You’d stop being the observer. You’d be the one controlling what happens. That’s what I mean by empowerment.”
I was quiet for a long moment. Her words stirred everything I was feeling, and something dangerous yet tempting began to brew. “And what if it messes everything up?” I asked finally.
She shrugged. “Then it messes things up. So what? You’ll survive, and you have nothing to lose. But at least you’ll know you didn’t hide from it.”
I leaned back against the headboard, letting the weight of what she said settle in me. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It kind of is,” she said softly. “You already know what you want. You’re just afraid to admit it.”
I looked at her. “And what if what I want is wrong?”
“Own it,” she said simply, shrugging. “You truly have nothing to lose. And to be honest, I don’t think he’ll say no to you. I saw the way he looked at you. And how he touched you last night. He’s totally into you.”
My heart hammered in my throat, and I was already mentally preparing for my next move. I couldn’t just go up to him and say,Hey, Callan, I want to be your fluffer. That’d be too weird.
Still, I wasn’t as opposed to the idea as I initially thought. Holland was right. I had nothing to lose, and I always took the safe route. It was time to have some fun for once in my life.
***
“It’s freakishly quiet down here,” Holland said as we reached the bottom of the stairs.
She was right. The filming room door was open, but the space behind it was empty.
“They must’ve left,” I said, glancing toward the living room. Even the lights had been turned off, which was unusual.
“That’s…weird,” she said, stepping forward and peeking into the kitchen. “Like, I can actually hear myself think.”
I smirked. “That’s new for you.”
“Ha ha.” She flicked my arm and then went straight for the coffee machine. “I’ll make the caffeine. You make the food.”
“Sure,” I said, opening the fridge. “What do you want for breakfast?”
She leaned against the counter, pretending to think. “Eggs Benedict, bacon, blueberry pancakes, and an acai bowl.”
I looked over my shoulder at her. “Would you like freshly squeezed orange juice with that? Maybe handpicked strawberries from the garden?”
She smiled. “Actually, yeah. Sounds perfect.”
I shut the fridge and laughed under my breath. “You’re getting eggs and bacon. And yogurt if you behave.”
“Fine, I’ll take it. It’s better than nothing.”
While I cooked, Holland set the table and then sat on the counter to watch me perfect my scrambled eggs.
“This feels nice,” Holland said. “Like we’re in one of those cheesy roommate sitcoms. Minus the porn house aspect.”
“Don’t ruin it,” I said, flipping the bacon. “I could get used to the quiet.”
“You can’t deny that your living situation is way more fun than mine.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t really choose mine. But I guess it’s nice not having to worry about rent every month.”
“You’re lucky.” She sighed. “We should switch lives.”
