It is.
Which scares the shit out of me.
“I don’t have another shift at Platinum until Thursday night.” I continue explaining because I can’t seem to stop talking. “I only work there four nights a week.”
My shifts at Platinum and the diner don’t usually line up well, but somehow I ended up having the whole day off tomorrow, which is good since I need to figure out how to turn all the money in my account into a check I can drop off for Dr. Marshall.
Andre’s mouth presses into a flat line. “Then I’ll take you out to dinner tonight.”
I want to ask exactly what all dinner would entail.
Just food?
Maybe more?
Maybe he’s expecting another dick sucking session.
I should hate the thought of it, so I’m going to pretend like I do.
But dick sucking isn’t the only thing he brought up today.
He also mentioned something I can’t pretend I hate the thought of, even the part where it’s broadcast across the security cameras at Platinum.
And that’s a problem. One of many I’m dealing with where this man is concerned.
But right now I’m too tired to care, and I can’t afford to be delirious with exhaustion around Andre.
Literally.
“I haven’t slept since Sunday night. I’m exhausted.” I stop short of pointing out that a fake girlfriend with bags under her eyes probably isn’t the look he’s going for. Andre made it clear he doesn’t want to discuss certain things in front of his driver.
But apparently finger fucking my mouth is just fine, which makes me wonder where the line of acceptability is.
“Then I will come to the diner tomorrow morning.” He says it like it’s already decided.
My apartment building slides into view just outside the window. “Sure. Okay.”
I won’t be there, but I’m not telling him that. If I do then he’ll want to monopolize my day tomorrow and I have shit to do.
Important shit. Shit I don’t want Andre to know about.
It’s none of his business, plus I’m willing to bet that if Andre knew just how badly I needed money he would use it against me.
It’s something I need to remember. Andre isn’t a knight in shining armor, here to sweep in and save my mother at the last minute.
He’s not a good guy.
He’s more likely to kill someone than save them, and that probably includes me.
But the frown on his face doesn’t bring in the bite of fear I know it should.
The man is impossibly attractive, especially when he looks ready to shred whatever’s keeping him from getting what he wants.
The clench of his jaw and the dark glint in his eyes sends a race of adrenaline through my veins. Unfortunately it’s not panic or worry running alongside it.
It’s arousal.
And I’m too exhausted to fight it. Too tired to pretend it’s not there.