Page 9 of The Influencer

“Gideon said you were worried about your piercing.”

He buries his face in a throw pillow, glasses and all. “It’s going to get infected.”

Jade has a softer voice with a flamboyant affectation. It carries a lilt of femininity with the tenor of a man, and it also happens to be adorable.

“Let me look at it,” I tell him. “I can’t help you if all I can see is your hair.”

“I look terrible.”

“It’s not a problem,” I say.

“Right. You’re straight.” He sighs heavily and sits up. He wipes his nose and squirms like it hurts.

“Let me just take it out if it’s stressing you. If it closes up, I’ll just reopen the hole, and we can put it back in when you’re better. It’s not a big deal.”

“I don’t want to take it out,” he whines. His light green eyes look even bigger behind his glasses, and his face is splotchy. He’s barely recognizable from the polished, meticulously well-kept man I met two weeks ago. I can’t decide which version I like better.

Either way, I console him. “I get it, but you gotta be able to wipe your nose, man.”

He sniffs, as if to make my point. “Okay. You can take it out if that’s what you think is best.”

I appreciate the trust. “Let me just go wash my hands.”

Jade seems to shrink into himself, like his whole life is too pitiful to bear. “Okay.”

The cottage isn’t hard to navigate, even though it isn’t open concept. The kitchen is through a nearby door, and as I cross the living room, I take in the mess. There are open postal boxes everywhere. Two large ring lights are mounted on tripods, and used tissues are scattered all over the place. Like he just can’t be bothered to make it to a trashcan.

The kitchen isn’t in much better shape. Empty cans of soup sit on the counter. Dirty pans, bowls, cups, and spoons fill the sink. I don’t have a client until this afternoon, but what I do have is a sudden urge to clean.

I haven’t always been a neat freak, but ever since Liv took sex off the table, I’ve made a lot of changes in my life. I approach my own health holistically now, and part of that is having a nice environment. Messes make me twitch. I wash my hands and find a paper towel to dry them off before returning to the living room.

Jade is looking at me like he’s waiting for the final judgment to come down. “I’m sorry it’s such a mess. I was planning on going home a few days ago, and then this.” He gracefully gestures at his face.

“I’ve got some time. I can do the dishes.”

His eyes widen. If I had to guess, I’d say his expression is something along the lines of mortification. “Oh, no. It’s fine. I’ll get to it later.”

I sit next to him on the couch, and he crowds himself in the corner, knees drawn up into a fetal position. “I wasn’t asking,” I say. “What’s with you? Come here. You’re acting like you have the plague.”

“It feels like the plague,” he says. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

“Then don’t sneeze on me.”

“I’m so disgusting right now.”

“You’re sick. Doesn’t count.”

He takes a deep breath like he’s bracing himself before he scoots closer. I meet him halfway and reach for his nose ring, easily removing it and letting him turn to sneeze hard into a tissue. “God, that’s so much better,” he sighs.

I chuckle. “Good.”

He throws himself back on the couch, sprawling with his chest to the ceiling, and my eyes manage to snag on his nipples.

Whoa.

I suck in a breath as a hard throb pounds below my belt. I’m not one to rhapsodize on a man’s nipples in general. I’ve pierced hundreds of them, but I’ve never seen a set like Jade’s. With his built-up pecs, they’re almost pornographic. Lewd. They’re bright pink against his alabaster skin, and they’re like—puffy. Way bigger than average.

Fuck. I snap my gaze back to his face, and it turns out he’s looking at me—watching me check out his nipples. But I don’t know what he expected. He has to know they’re fucking obscene. He wipes his nose again and sniffs. “You are straight. Right?” he asks.

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