But the part that caught me off guard was that he was alsonice-looking, even under that epic frown he still wore. Nice as in “kind,” not just attractive... which was probably a supremely dumb thing to assume. Like, come on, I knew you couldn’t tell what someone was actually like just from looking, or else why would I ever have gone home with Max in the first place? But still... maybe doing whatever it turned out he wanted from me tonight wouldn’t be quite as bad as I’d gotten myself all worked up worrying about.
Maybe.
I suddenly remembered that I was supposed to say… something. Some sort of verification phrase or whatever, to let him know what I was actually here for. (Even though,hello, booty shorts with no underwear and a crop top you could see my nipples through?)
But okay, I couldn’t afford to mess this up and he was starting to look at me funny for staying silent for so long, so?—
“Hi,” I blurted, totally blanking on what the super special secret phrase was supposed to be. Then I suddenly remembered, and heat flooded my cheeks. Talk about making me feel just as worthless as Max had always said I was. I went ahead and said it anyway, though, because I had to. “I’m, um, your party favor for tonight?”
I clamped my hands together behind my back since they’d started trembling again, then tried to smile, hoping the client hadn’t noticed. Because even if he trulywasn’tlike Max, nothing good could come of letting him see that I was scared, right?
Or at least... nervous.
Which was still stupid, though. I should begrateful. I had zero money, Max hadn’t let me take anything with me when he’d kicked me out, and it wasn’t like Greg could let me stay with him forever. Besides, I couldn’t imagine that sleeping with a stranger for one single night, especially one who lookednice, could be any worse than what I’d endured for the last three years with Max.
But—
“You’remy party favor?” the client repeated, dropping his hands from my shoulders like I was a hot potato and taking a big step back.
“Yes?” I said, which made him frown even harder than he had before.
I started to tremble even worse. Not just my hands this time, but all over.
Those first two nights after Max had kicked me out, before I’d gotten up the courage to ask Greg if I could stay with him for a bit, I’d heard stories about what some of the other guys on the streets—some of them kids younger than I’d been when Max had first taken me in—had done to get by when they’d had nowhere else to turn. And they’d said some ofthoseguys had looked nice, too.
But… but that had been on the streets. Not in a fancy hotel room like this.
My client gave me a slow once-over, his eyes flaring so hot for a second that I trembled in a whole different way, a way I didn’t understand at all but didn’t… um, didn’t hate. But then he blinked, extinguishing the heat, and pinched the bridge of his nose while he mumbled something unhappy-sounding under his breath that I didn’t catch.
I swallowed. “Um, what?”
His jaw clenched, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t suppose you meant you’re herewitha party favor for me.”
He didn’t say it like it was a question, but I shook my head anyway.
“So, you don’t have a delivery for me?” he asked testily. “Tucked away in a… pocket?”
I swallowed hard, shaking my head again. Pockets? I definitely didn’t have those… or anything else. Was Isupposedto have brought something with me? Greg hadn’t mentioned it, and I could feel panic starting to swell up inside me again, because I didn’t know what to do.
I’d thought this would be easy. Terrifying, sure. Painful, probably. But not confusing. Not something I could mess up before we even got started. I’d figured I’d just show up and the client would… woulddostuff. Or at least tellmeto do stuff. But not leave me standing out in the hall while he glowered at me, while he looked at me like I was literally the last thing he’dwanted to find waiting on the other side of his door, while he sighed like I was the world’s worst disappointment inever.
I knew Greg had uploaded my picture after his boss had said I could take one of his clients. A bunch of pictures, actually. Some of them had been embarrassing and none of them were that great, because I was just me—body too skinny, chin too pointy, eyes too big—but they also weren’t touched-up or misleading or anything.
Hadn’t this guy, the client, evenlookedbefore he’d, um, hired my… my services?
His jaw started ticking. “You’re not what I was expecting,” he said, his voice sounding strained.
Something inside me sank like a stone. He mustnothave looked. Or maybe he had looked, but I wasn’t enough for him without… what? Bringing a “delivery,” too? Had he been expecting me to have recreational drugs? Bring sex toys? Offer him something kinkier?
I didn’t have any of that.
“I’m sorry,” I forced myself to say, since he was still silent. Still looking pissed. “I didn’t bring anything extra, but I can… can do whatever you want. Or I mean,youcan. With me. I’m all yours for the whole night. If you still, um, want?”
I was trembling again, and my voice dwindled to barely a whisper by the time I finished rambling.Uselesslyrambling, by the look on his face. Still, I instinctively held my hands out to display myself, as if that might help convince him to suddenly want me... use me… keep me. Save me from having to do this all over again, with someone else.
It didn’t work.
His eyes raked over me again and his frown turned into a full-blown scowl, making me want to melt right down into the floor with shame.
