“I need to figure out how to explain this in a way you’ll understand,” he says. After a moment, he straightens with a deep breath. “Okay. Can you promise me something?”
The escort in me knows to make any promise he wants.
But that’s not why I nod.
He looks relieved. “Okay. I want you to promise that you’ll hear me out. That you won’t try to leave before we talk through this.”
That sounds awful, but…
I nod again.
Another relieved exhale, but then he tenses up as he straightens. “That wasn’t a rejection,” he starts. “Even if it felt like it. I need you to understand that.”
I don’t answer. Itdidfeel like it.
He sighs, seeing that on my face. “I’ll tell you the truth. Even at the risk of it biting me in the ass at the end of this.” When that piques my curiosity, he admits, “I don’t just dream of you, Red. Idaydream of you. I’m constantlythinking about you. Whether I’m training, sleeping, resting, anything, you’re on my mind. In every sense of the word.”
My eyes widen. And maybe it’s because it’s not my usual reaction of freezing in fear, but Nico latches onto it. It amps him up.
“Of course I think about fucking you. I’d have to be dead to not think you’re the sexiest goddamn woman in the world. But it’s more than that. I think about your lips, about kissing them, not just because I want to know what you taste like, but also because I’m dying to have the touch of your lips imprinted on mine.”
His vulnerability has my stomach fluttering in a way that feels foreign. With my eyes on his, he continues.
“I think about calling you, just to see what you’re doing. To ask your opinion about little things, like what movie I should watch when I get home. To watch a movietogether,on the phone, like we’re high schoolers or something.” When that startles a laugh out of me, he smiles and brushes my hair back. “Ithink about seeing you more than once a week, more thantwicea week, just so I can hear you laugh and find all the things that make it happen.” He pauses, his hand brushing over my hair again, his eyes searching mine with a soft smile. “That’swhat I think about.”
I soak up his touch, his words. I want so badly to believe him. Iwantto believe that I’m more than just my body. I spent my teenage years being conditioned to think my only worth is in my ability to be a wife, and I spent my entire marriage learning that my “wifely duties” were centered around my ability—and availability—in the bedroom. Hearing Nico say he likes me forothermuch more meaningful reasons is…everything I’ve ever wanted.
But the voices of my life before him are just too loud, too eager to tear me down and leave me in the gutter. Those voices are what keep me from responding to Nico in the way that he wants.
He sees it, because he sighs and takes a step back. “So no, I don’t just want sex. I want the rest of it, too.”
AndGod, I want so badly to believe him. Ilikespending time with Nico. I like him and I like how he makes me feel and Iwantto explore this with him.
It’s just…hard.
“I don’t—” I swallow and try again. “I’m not sure what that looks like,” I admit in a shaky whisper.
And Nico being the brave, beautiful man he is, simply smiles and says, “I know, baby. That’s okay. We can figure it out together.”
“It’s hard for me to trust men,” I say quietly. “Theno dating clientsrule is common sense, but…that’s not the only reason.”
I take another breath, this one for courage. To be honest with him, the way he’s been with me. “I was married. Before I movedto New York. And I know it’s cliché to say a bad relationship gave me trust issues, but?—”
“You weremarried?” Nico asks, his eyes going wider than I’ve ever seen them. “But—” He shakes his head with a confused frown. “You were nineteen when you moved here.” His jaw goes slack again. “You were married atnineteen?”
I laugh softly, though nothing about this is funny. “It’s a long story. And not one I want to get into right now. I was just trying to explain whyI have a hard time trusting men.”Trusting everyone, I add mentally.
“Iwantto believe you,” I hurry to add. I need him to understand. “I’m not against the idea of dating because I don’t want to dateyou. I swear. I just…” I blow out a heavy breath. “It’s…hard.”
For a moment, Nico studies me. I can tell he wants to ask a million more questions about my past, but he can also sense that I’m not ready to talk about it. So instead of pushing me when I’m not ready, he simply nods and says, “I understand.” Then he tucks my hair behind my ear and gives me a small smile. “Thank you for being honest with me.”
Just that reaction tells me I’ve done the right thing in trusting him with the truth. But even though my panic spiral melts away and the tension drops from my shoulders, there’s still a small part of me that’s holding back.
“Can we keep doing what we’re doing?” I ask in a tentative whisper. “Just for now? I promise I won’t pressure you for sex again, but…I think keeping it contained to an arrangement I understand might help me make sense of it.” But when I realize what I’m asking, shame punches me in the gut and makes my eyes widen. “Not that I’m doing it for the money. I realize how that makes me sound. I just?—”
But Nico just laughs and sweetly tugs at a strand of hair. “Scarlett, you could charge me a hundred thousand and I’d gladly hand it over for a single date.”
My mouth curves into a smile, everything in me melting at his words. “Would it include sex?”
