“What would be?” I screamed at myself to shut up.
Noah tilted his head. “What?”
I couldn’t make myself stop. “What would be? What would fuck us up, even though we’re meant to be?”
He paused once more, seeming to consider his words. “Well, I have one more question for you. And let’s say it’s a freebie. No matter how you answer, I’m not leaving. I’m not giving up on us.”
Even with his assurance, trepidation filled me. “Okay.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? You told me about fucking around with photography clients. Why didn’t you tell me this?”
The tears really began to fall. “I almost did. A billion times. I didn’t want to risk losing you, or you changing your opinion of me. I was ashamed.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
A garbled laugh broke out of my throat. “Why? Because nobody wants to tell the man they love that they were basically a prostitute.”
“But I thought you didn’t think it was wrong.”
“I don’t.” I wiped the tears off my cheeks in a rough swipe. “At least my brain doesn’t. But still, we’re told it’s wrong. And the world pretty much sees that as the worst thing you can be. So I guess I don’t believe it’s wrong, but I’m still ashamed. Even if I don’t want to be.”
“I can see that. And it makes sense.”
“But what does that have to do with what might fuck us up?”
“Oh.” Noah grimaced as if even the thought was too painful. “I can’t handle a relationship where we lie to each other. Even if something horrible happens, I think we can weather anything. As long as we’re being open and honest. Otherwise, obviously, we don’t trust each other.”
I almost laughed. “I can’t see not trusting you with anything after this.”
Noah scooted a bit closer and reached out and took my hand. “Me either.”
We stared at each other for bit. Both searching. It felt like we were making promises. Not spoken, but promises just the same.
After a few minutes, Noah broke the silence. “You know, I haven’t eaten since breakfast. Wanna order in a pizza?”
And the relief finally washed over me. “Yeah. Please.”
Chapter Fifteen
KAYLA STAREDat me for a long time. During the entire conversation, I tried to get a read on what she was feeling, typically such an easy thing to do, but not this time. Or maybe her feelings where shifting so rapidly they never settled on one long enough to stick. One moment she looked disgusted, then shocked, then worried. She hadn’t even taken a sip of her skinny vanilla latte, and we’d been at the coffee shop long enough that it had to be cold by this point.
At last she picked up her cup, started to lift it to her lips, and then abruptly sat it back down. “I can’t let it sink in, Randall. It was true? You’ve really been doing”—she glanced around the nearly empty space—“stufffor money?”
“Yes, Kayla. For the hundredth time. Yes.” I bugged my eyes out at her, though I knew she wasn’t in the place to be teased. “Do you want me to draw you a picture?”
She grimaced. “Gross. No. You’re like my brother. It’s bad enough hearing about it.” Again the cup came up and again it went back down. “And Noah is okay with this? He’s not leaving you? He’s not even angry?”
I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around that fact either. “Yeah. We talked and he’s good. He’s amazing.”
“Wow.” She twisted a lock of hair between her fingers. “You are so lucky. Dustin would have me killed. Like really. He’d hire a hit man or something. Or just run over me in the driveway.”
“Jeesh. Morbid much?”
She shook her head, her expression serious. “I mean it.”
Silence fell for a bit. Kayla finally took a drink, grimaced, and glared at the cup like it had offended her. Though I couldn’t read exactly what she was feeling about the situation, I was still fairly certain how she’d answer. Despite that, it was still a hard thing to ask. “So Noah and I are okay. Are we?”
She stared at me blankly, then balked. “What? You mean are we okay? You and me?”
