She walks over to the bag and inhales. “I’m hungry.”
“We did work up an appetite, but I didn’t want to eat without you.”
“Awe, well, get some plates and let’s eat.”
“I think they put some in here,” I say, opening the bag. “Yeah, everything we need is in here, so allow me to serve you Miss Ari…what’s your last name?”
“Martin.”
“Well, allow me to serve you, Miss Ari Martin.”
I’m glad she has at least agreed to stay and have dinner with me. It’s a midnight dinner, but dinner nonetheless.
“You’re such the gentleman, Blaze.” She giggles and sits down at the table. “Now, hurry up, I’m starving. The least you can do is feed a girl.”
“You’re right; it’s the least I can do. But it’s not all I want to do.”
“What do you want to do?” she asks curiously.
“I want to give you everything I have to give.”
“Oh, wow! That’s a lot to give some prostitute that you’ve only known a short time. What’s it been a little over a week, maybe two weeks?”
“You’re not just some prostitute, Ari. You’re a woman with a good sense of humor, you’re kind with the right amount of sass, and you’re passionate. I haven’t spent a lot of time around you, but in the time we have spent together you have shown me the wonderful parts of you that I don’t want to let go. I also can look into your eyes and know all of these things are true about you, and I want more of it.”
“Why are you saying all of this to me? I’ve never had anyone talk to me the way you do, Blaze. But let’s be real, it hasn’t been that long ago since you were out surfing for random women to take home.”
Dang. How do I come back from that?
I could tell her the truth and let the pieces fall where they may. But, that would be reckless and could end with her storming out and never coming back.
“I was lonely,” I admit, which is the truth. I didn’t have anyone to call my own. Before I went out on this assignment and met her, the only thing I had to keep me company was my work and calls home to Mom. “Seeking out women for hire isn’t something I normally do or agree with. I just found myself out there that night searching for something. Then I saw you, and I was drawn to you,” I say truthfully. Everything I’m saying is one hundred percent truth with a few omissions.
“I’m curious. Since you don’t normally find women this way or agree with it, what are your thoughts on me being out there?” she asks.
“I want you to quit,” I say without hesitation. “I want you here with me. I can show you much better things in life if you let me.”
She pushes her half-eaten plate away from her. “I have to go.”
“We were having such a good conversation. Why leave now?”
“We can get together again tomorrow,” she says, avoiding my question as she stands to her feet.
“I hate that you’re leaving, but I would be happy to see you again tomorrow, Ari. Do you want me to come to pick you up?” I ask, trying very hard not to think about where Ari has to run off to. Every conclusion leaves me upset that another man might touch her tonight. But if it’s one thing I’m confident about, it’s knowing he won’t be able to touch her as deeply as I have already.
“No, I’ll come to you around ten,” she promises.
I kiss her for a long time at the door, making sure to slip the takeout receipt—with my number carefully written out on the back—into her back pocket. I want her to be able to reach me at all times. I walk her to her car and come back to my apartment and plop down on the sofa.
I slowl
y feel myself opening up the vaults of things that should be locked away from a woman like Ari—a nightwalker that dwells in places of criminality and dishonesty. None of how I feel about her makes sense, but I can’t stop this feeling, not even if I want to.
***
It keeps happening, over and over again. I’ll send her a text around ten or eleven at night, trying to work around her schedule, and she keeps coming over, somehow always miraculously in between clients. Sometimes, I can’t find it in myself to sleep with her due to the jealousy that sparks in my mind just at the thought of other men touching her.
I like Ari. She’s hilarious, smart as hell, good in bed, and ridiculously hot, whether she’s dressed regally or wearing a ‘come fuck me dress’ designed to make married men spend all their money on sex.