Page 64 of The Influencer

“Sort of. He also had a really rough time for a while. He was an alcoholic. It nearly killed him. Rehab cleaned him up, and then he found Sawyer. Anyway, while I was working through all that, I got back into freehand drawing and started getting interested in tattoos.”

“I didn’t graduate high school, you know?” Jade says, and it’s the most personal thing he’s ever told me.

“Doesn’t seem to have slowed you down,” I say with a slight grin.

He laughs softly. “No, I guess not. My skill sets aren’t exactly something you go to college to learn.”

“I mean—you might consider taking a night course on Excel.”

He laughs again, and this one is throatier. He snuggles closer, his hand moving from my cuff up my arm to rest on my triceps. “Maybe I do owe you something for that…”

“Oh, you do. But I’ll give you time to think about what that’s gonna be.”

“All right, now you really have to go,” he says.

“Why’s that?”

“Because snuggling and giggling isn’t something I do. It’s making me sick to my stomach.”

“God forbid.” I unwrap my leg from his, and I swear I hear him quietly whimper. As I sit up, he sits with me, careful to keep very little distance between our faces.

“I’ll see you Thursday, I guess,” he sighs, like it’s some big chore—this appointment he made with me that he has to keep.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can bring.”

“Like what?” he asks.

“Whatever. Coffee. Sandwiches. Handcuffs.”

“You don’t have handcuffs,” he assumes correctly.

“No, but I have a debit card and a smart phone.”

“Do you also have any thoughts on what you’d like me to wear?”

“Surprise me,” I say.

He rolls his eyes, lips not half an inch away from mine. “You’re impossible.”

“My cock would argue otherwise.”

“Fuck, Asher,” he whispers just before his mouth touches mine. “Do you really want me as much as it feels like you do?”

“Nah,” I lie. “I’m just horny.”

“Okay, good.”

“Shall I go now?” I ask, just to confirm.

He pulls away and nods. He looks so good. Sleepy and sweet. He’s fucking beautiful. I want him exactly as much as he accused me of. More. But my fear of running him off too soon is enough to keep thoughts like that to myself. Two can play this game of tit for tat. A relationship made up of one-off transactions. It really is the only way this is gonna work.

I give him a peck on the cheek and stand. He stays on the couch but shifts to look up at me.

“Try not to pull a muscle tomorrow, okay?” I say.

He smirks. “I think I can handle it.”

18

---