Some evenings he’d cook for me, other times we’d order in or go out. But it was always the same outcome every night—his body hugging mine as we fell asleep.
He wanted me around. And damn did that feel nice for my company to be desired.
My eyes eventually blinked open, the warm summer sun blinding me.
“Do you ever sleep in?” I mumbled tiredly, knowing that Spencer was already awake.
His thick, warm body rolled over, pulling me into his embrace.
“Too much to get done. I can’t waste time by sleeping in.” His raspy morning voice rumbled into my neck.
“I hate to admit it, but it’s probably for the best that I’m up early. I need to go back to my place and make sure everything is okay before I head to work later.”
My place that he still had no idea about.
“Why wouldn’t everything be okay?” His thumb rubbed circles around my exposed hip.
“I just, uh, haven’t been there in a while. My plants probably need water, and I want to make sure the air hasn’t shit out on me or something. Never know what could happen.”
By now, Spencer knew most of my darkest secrets and every way that made us different from one another. Although, he had no idea that I lived in an old beat-up van. But obviously, he was aware that I was much younger than him, spent my nights as a sex worker, and the two of us were in a completely different place in life. Our upbringings were briefly brought up before, but I don’t think he understood just how much my childhoodaffected my life. While he was eating homemade Italian dinners every Sunday with his family, I was climbing onto the counter tops to see if my mom had gone to the store that week or not, only to come up empty handed.
“Let me give you a ride. I can have my driver take you before I head into the office.”
“Oh, that’s not?—”
“I’m going to hop in the shower. Be ready in twenty.” He kissed my forehead and fled to the bathroom.
Fuck. I don’t know why this made me so nervous. He knew about my ex-boyfriend. My job—or my past job, I guess? He was aware there was a video floating around on the internet of me. But something about him seeing how I lived … it felt like ripping my soul out, bearing it to him, and asking him to handle it with care.
I wanted to know everything about Spencer, and I wanted him to know every scarring detail about me in return. But I couldn’t help feeling like a woman scorned and scared to let anyone else in. Especially someone I liked as much as him.
Letting him in was as terrifying as it was thrilling.
“Take a right at the light,” I said loudly enough that Spencer’s driver could hear me from the back seat.
“You know, you could just give him the address, so you don’t have to tell him step by step how to get to your place,” he teased.
“I know. We aren’t far, though.” I watched out the window, the glitz and glam of the Strip disappearing behind us, and the rough edges of the outskirts popping up left and right.
Graffiti covered brick walls and abandoned buildings. Hotels became duller, their daytime appearance lacking a certain sparkle. Panhandlers begged for money on the corner of each streetlight. And not far ahead was a run-down RV park.
Las Vegas Boulevard was comparable to being in a different world. Anything else off the Strip was just … Nevada. People didn’t visitNevada. They came to experienceLas Vegas.
“It’s right up here. On the left.” I refused to make eye contact with Spencer as we turned into the neglected RV park, passing through rows of trailers, and finally pulling directly in front of Ol’ Red.
“Avery,” Spencer grumbled under his breath.
“I’ll text you when I get done with work.” I brushed my lips along his cheek for a quick kiss, doing my best to avoid this topic of conversation for as long as humanly possible.
Thanking his driver, I shot out of the SUV like a cannon, but the hot-headed Italian was right on my heels.
“Avery.” My eyes clasped shut as the deep baritone in his voice trailed behind me.
Turning on my heel, I looked into his eyes only to quickly veer away.
“You live here?”
My voice was filled with hesitation as I muttered, “I-I do.”
