She sighs and steps closer. After a moment, she takes one of my hands. “Look. Ilikeyou. I have fun with you every time we’re together. And yes, in another life, if you asked me out on the street, I’d say yes in a heartbeat. But that’s just not my reality. I don’t date clients.” Her thumb brushes over the back of my hand. “I’m sorry,” she adds in a near-whisper.
Inwardly, I sigh. I can’t even blame her.
I’m not giving up, but I don’t blame her.
“Okay,” I say after a moment. “I understand.”
And then before she can read this as a breakup, I add, “I’ll keep paying.”
Her brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
I wrap my other arm around her waist and pull her closer. “I mean, I still want to date you. I want the kind of date that this would be if we were in another life. But I’ll pay for it. I’ll earn your trust.”
She still looks skeptical. “I don’t understand. If this were a normal date, you’d still be trying to get under my skirt.”
“I know this might sound stupid since we’ve already had sex, but…no, I wouldn’t.”
She doesn’t even try to hide her disbelief.
“I mean it,” I press. “I can guarantee that even if we’d met the normal way, I would’ve been more caught up in the get-to-know-you part than anything else.”
She’s too polite to tell me she doesn’t believe me, but her quirked eyebrow is enough to say what she isn’t.
I try a different approach. “Okay, then how about this? We date. I still pay you. But we don’t have sex.”
Her nose scrunches at that. “Why would we do that?”
Oh, my sweet girl. Who hurt you?
I want so badly to ask her. To get her talking so I can finally understand why she sees the world—and men—the way she does. But she’s clearly not ready for that yet, so for now, I don’t ask.
I brush my thumb over her hand that I’m still holding. “Because I like you,” I say softly. “Because it’s not your body I’m after, butyou.”
My knees almost buckle with relief when I see a tentative hope flash across her face. She’s scared and unsure, but it’s the beginning of trust.
“So let’s just…hang out,” I suggest with what I hope is a casual shrug. “No pressure, no masks needed, just two people spending time together who want to get to know each other.”
There’s still a beat of hesitation, but after a moment, she says slowly, “Okay.”
I grin and take a step back, still holding on to her hand. “Great. So…art or music?”
She blinks at me. “I… What?”
Patiently, I ask again. “Do you like art or music more?”
She still doesn’t seem to understand the question. “Whatever you like is fine.”
I have to focus on swallowing my sigh. “Red…” But then something occurs to me, and I turn fully so I can take both of her hands. “Do you know what I’d really like tonight?”
She shakes her head.
“I’d really like to learn whatyoulike. No hidden motives, no catering tomylikes.”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” she whispers.
It’s the most honest moment we’ve shared.
I can’t help cupping her face in my hand. I know she’s scared; I can see it in every inch of her. But I’m hoping I can coax her out of her shell anyway.
