Page 17 of The Influencer

Asher abruptly goes offline, and I’m staring at my phone like it’s an alien fetus. What the fuck was that?

I have no choice now but to scroll through his feed. I’m not surprised to find it’s mostly of his work. Tattoos. Beautiful, intricate tattoos. Fine lines. Colors. Animals. Portraits. Script. He’s talented, obviously, or Gideon would never trust him with his precious arm.

There are a few obligatory photos of his shop, and then there’s his virgin girlfriend. She’s pretty, I guess. Long black hair, dark eyes, and unblemished golden-brown skin. Big tits, too. Her makeup is perfection—a perfectly executed cat eye in every photo along with lash extensions that somehow don’t overwhelm her fine-boned face. She’s very feminine and obviously takes good care of herself.

Finally, there’s his hot AF brother. The pro baseball pitcher Adam Haas. Sawyer Townsend’s new fiancé. They have totally different vibes, the brothers. Adam is the golden boy—shorter, lighter hair, classic, clean-cut features. Asher is the black sheep. While they have some similarities—the shape of their eyes, their noses and jawlines—Adam even has a few freckles on his nose—I don’t think I would have guessed they were brothers, much less twins unless I knew to look for it.

Unable to help myself, even though I know he’s offline, I return to our DMs.

Jade

Are you unhappy?

I don’t know when or if he’ll message me back, but I had to ask. I’m about as self-involved as a person comes—again—self-reflection—but I’m not soulless. I get that he was reaching out. I have no idea what for, and I’m not sure he does either, but I’m not an asshole. It’s not like it takes a huge amount of physical or mental energy to respond to a few messages.

I follow his account and then catch up on the last few hours of posts from accounts I follow before realizing I’m hungry and wandering into the kitchen.

Fuck, I wish I’d let Asher clean it.

It’s two days later. I’ve recovered from my mother’s smothering love and my cold, but the packing task at hand is both overwhelming and unfair.

Currently, I’m on a break—taking pictures of the overwhelm, my general state of aesthetic “disarray” because my hair is perfectly mussed today, and considering whether I want to jerk off for the camera or rub one out for myself—when I see that Asher replied to my last message.

It’s a one-line response that asks more questions than it answers. All it says is I don’t know.

Fuck, this guy makes me want to slit my wrists and bleed out, I swear. I plop down on the floor and, even though he’s not active right now, reply.

Jade

If you really want to go to a club, I’ll be at Flow Saturday night. You’re welcome to show up. I’ll even buy you a drink.

With that, because I need a pick-me-up, and jerking off isn’t going to cut it, I call my friend Kyle to see if he’s as bored as I am.

We talk for a few minutes about what I have in mind. He’s down, so I spend the next half hour setting up the bedroom. I’m fairly popular, and people rarely turn me down when I propose a collaboration, but I still have a certain standard to uphold. I may not be feeling my absolute physical best because I haven’t been to the gym in four days, but I also haven’t eaten that much, so I still look trim and tight. And I need to get fucked so bad. So, so bad.

I put on a white tank and short gym shorts before I try like hell to get my nose ring back in. But my eyes end up watering, and I can’t do it. It hurts. I don’t know if the hole already closed, or if I’m not doing something right, but I finally give up and put on some eyeliner instead. Kyle likes my eyes.

And my mouth.

I smirk at myself in the mirror, taking photo after photo to make sure I’m not deluding myself with how good I think I look.

When the knock comes, I’m ready to take a break from looking at my reflection and simp for someone else.

Kyle is relatively gentle in bed. His tastes run standard vanilla, but he’s a great kisser, and he can suck a dick for real.

Does he wreck my hole? No. But between his steady thrusting and my hand on my cock, we both come well enough to collapse in a pile of naked limbs and laugh.

“Fuuuckkk…” I groan. “Thanks for stopping by. I needed that dick.”

He runs his hand up my abs and snuggles unusually close. “Missed you.”

“Um…”

I rest my hand on top of his, halting its movement and giving it a squeeze. “It’s good to catch up with you, too.”

He sighs. “Jade.”

“Yeah?”

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