Page 30 of Nine

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” I say, almost embarrassed.

It’s funny to hear it come out of my mouth. I’ve done a lot of dirty sexual things as an escort, but kissing was never one of them. Trig steps back and holds up one finger.

“You’ve never kissed anyone, ever? That’s impossible. Look at you.”

I shake my head.

“I don’t kiss. It’s a rule of mine.”

“Didn’t you have boyfriends before you were an escort?” I shake my head. He exhales. “You’ve really never had a boyfriend?” I shake my head again. “What about your virginity?”

“I was eighteen and it was with a client,” I say, and look away.

“Your first time was with a client?” he shouts.

“Every time was with a client. You can’t have relationships in this field.”

“Wow, Nine.” He spins around in a circle.

Now that this topic is out and open, it sounds ridiculous.

“So, you’ve never kissed anyone and you’ve never had a boyfriend. That means you’ve never made love, then.”

“My clients–”

“You’re clients pay to fuck you, not make love to you. Don’t get it confused,” Trig says, cutting me off. “Do you enjoy sex? Do you even get off or is it just a job for you?”

“I enjoy it, sometimes,” I lie.

What I really mean to say is that I enjoy all the money that comes after the sex.

He laughs. “Sure you do. Some jerk-off is pumping away at you while you lay there and wait for it to be over.”

My face heats up. “Why are you mad at me?”

He stops moving and looks at me. “There is this beautiful woman standing in front of me telling me she’s never experienced a kiss. And that she’s never had a boyfriend, which means she’s never been in love and she’s never even made love. You’re first sexual experience was with a client, a fucking client. You’re breaking my heart here. What other on-the-job rules do you have, Nine? I must know.”

“Just one more.” I pause. He arches one eyebrow. “No cuddling,” I say.

He laughs into his hands. He’s thinking the same thing I am. He’s thinking about last night. He’s thinking about my hand in his, and all the times he’s held me already. I close my eyes. I’m breaking all my rules here. I’m breaking them all for him. It hits me that I might actually have feelings for him. What. The. Fuck? This can’t happen.

I have to get out of here. I’m suffocating in my thoughts. I brush past him. He grabs my wrist and pulls me back into him.

“Stop,” he says. “I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at the situation.”

“I did what I had to. I did it to get Jenny and me off the streets. We were starving out there. Jenny was always sick. We were stealing medicine from drug stores and seeking shelter in unlocked cars on cold nights. I was tending to her fevers, while watching for the cops and the owners of these cars. I spent hours leaning her body into a brown paper bag to throw up in, praying that she recovered well enough so we could make it to a safe area, and here you are giving me shit for not having a love life. Well, excuse the fuck out of me. I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this.”

He stares at me for a second.

“I’m not trying to give you shit. I’m angry that you’re first kiss wasn’t with some horny teenage boy at a lame-ass carnival. I’m angry that a boy didn’t take you to prom, and attempt to get laid that night. I’m angry that you never met some douche bag, fell in love with him, and then finally gave it up to him in the back of a beat-up car. Your story is what I’m angry at. You’re supposed to go through all that immature dating bullshit as a female. But no one is supposed to go through what you did. When I think about your childhood I just want to put a bullet into your uncle’s head.”

I was listening to him and the more he talked the more he stole my breath away. I wasn’t sure what this was between us, but whatever it was, it had me feeling weak.

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me. I don’t need your pity,” I snap.

“Do you think I feel sorry for you? I feel a lot of things, Nine, but sorry isn’t one of them.”

“Yeah? What do you feel then?”

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