"There's a rule that you keep breaking." He's standing in the doorway of the bedroom, his pajama bottoms slung low on his hips. I can just see a few stray hairs poking over the waistband. Even like this in the dim light of the room, he's the most desirable man I'll ever lay eyes on.
"Whatever." I look back down at my tablet. "I need to become a prostitute I think."
"What?"
"I think I need to start turning tricks." That's hooker lingo, right? That's what they call it?
"You're the most fascinating person I've ever met." He's on the bed next to me now. "Where do you come up with all this bullshit that comes out of your mouth?"
"It's like this." I place the tablet on his lap and pull the sheet up to cover my breasts. "I look up apartment listings and on the side are all these advertisements for call girls."
"Call girls?" He glances down at the tablet. "You mean these listings asking for female models?"
"Yes." I nod. "That's code for prostitute." I pull air quotes around the last word for extra added emphasis.
"I'll pay you to fuck me." He pulls the waistband of his pajamas down to reveal his cock. "You name the price. How much is your body worth?"
I wince at the words. We haven't spoke of the bet in weeks. It's become a difficult, and not constant, memory at this point. Suddenly, it's boiling inside of me a
gain. I feel breathless at the reminder.
"Nathan." I push the sheet from my body and bounce to my feet. "I can't. No."
"Jessica. Jesus. Shit." He's on his feet too, racing around the bed. "Please, don't. Fuck, please don't run."
"I can't." I'm clawing at my throat. I feel as though I can't breathe. This must be what it's like to have a panic attack. I saw enough of them firsthand when I was an EMT to know the symptoms. "Nathan." I feel my legs collapsing and I reach for the side of the bed. He scoops me into his arms and lowers me to the floor before I have time to react.
"Jessica." His hands are around me and I'm resting against his chest. "Don't think about it."
"I can't help it." I press my hands to my temple to try and ward off the flood of thoughts. I'm assaulted with the image of my fist jarring into Drew's face, the smell of the bar, and the sound of Nathan's voice when he told me the amount of the bet. "I can't do this," I whimper. "Why did I think I could do this?"
"Jessica." He cradles my naked body in his lap as he leans against the bed. "You know I love you. You feel it."
"No." I shake my head violently from side-to-side. "I don't know."
"You feel it," he whispers in my ear. "Close your eyes, Jessica. Listen to me."
My head is telling my body to bolt from the room. It's pushing on me to race from his arms and this place. It's reminding me that his past is a cloud of secrets and women. There were so many women. My heart is winning. I can't move.
"You were wearing a beautiful dress when I first saw you at the club that night." His breath grazes across my neck. "I watched you walk in through the door. I had just paid my tab. I was getting ready to leave."
I nod. I didn't know that. I thought he was firmly entrenched on a stool at the bar waiting for someone he could take up to his room.
"I felt my knees go weak." He kisses my forehead. "Not weak like bullshit words weak, but really weak. I had to sit down. Do you know why?"
I shake my head against his chest as I feel my breathing slow down. "Tell me why."
"You were looking around the room. I was scared you were there to meet a guy. I was going to fight him for you."
I laugh at the idea. I was so scared that night. So unsure of what I was getting myself into.
"If I'd known you were a prize fighter I'd have gotten you to be my stand-in." I can feel his smile against my cheek. "I knew right then, at that club, that I'd never want anyone else in the world again."
"You're such a liar," I say the words into his chest.
"I don't lie to you, Jessica."
"You don't always tell me the truth either."