Page 47 of Perfect Boy

“Yeah?” he mutters, his eyes hooded.

I stand a little taller, brushing my lips against his. His hand goes to the back of my neck, gripping me at the nape as our mouths continue to collide. I’m just about to reach for his sweatpants when a loud voice stops me.

“Yo, Watson, you home?” the deep voice calls from downstairs.

“Cade,” Watson mumbles, cringing. “I’d better go see what he needs.”

He stays where he is, only making my heart beat faster.

“Okay,” I breathe out, nodding.

Slowly, he backs away and heads down the stairs. And when he’s out of sight, I close the door and rest my head against it.

Once again, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting more.

Watson

I sit across from Ryann at the café just off campus. Less than an hour ago, Cade unknowingly cockblocked me. From the way she gazed up at me before her lips grazed against mine, I could tell she was thinking the same filthy thoughts I was.

“I can’t believe you don’t like breakfast past nine a.m.” She shakes her head at me. “You’ll never know the joy of driving with your friends in the afternoon to a place that serves breakfast all day and stuffing your face with pancakes.”

As soon as the words leave her lips, the waitress is at our table. She has to be in her mid- to late-thirties, and she has a little too much eyeliner on. “Ryann, I’m guessing you want your usual?”

I look at Ryann, wondering how the waitress knows her name or knows what she wants to eat.

“Yes, ma’am.” Ryann smiles. “I’ll do a coffee with some milk too. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.” She looks around. “Is Zoey working?”

“Nah, she’s off today.” She finishes jotting down the order before her eyes move to mine. “And what about you, handsome? What can I get you?”

I look at Ryann and wince. “I’m kind of nervous about this, but…I’ll get Ryann’s usual.” I pause, my lips turning up. “Even though I know it’s likely from the breakfast menu.”

“Hell yeah, it is,” Ryann chimes. “Only the best meal ever. Right, Mal?”

“If you say so.” Mal shrugs, completely unimpressed. “And to drink?”

“I’ll do everything exactly the same as Ryann,” I tell her, and she slowly walks away.

“So, I’m guessing Zoey works here?” I ask. “And since you have a regular order, you must come here a lot?”

Mal returns and sets our coffees down, passing us each a little cup of milk before walking off again.

“Yeah, she’s worked here for a while. I used to work here too. That’s how I met Zoey.” She reaches for the container of sugar packets; she pulls out a few and rips them open. “I actually loved working here.”

“If you loved it, why did you stop?” I ask.

I hate the fact that she strips for a living now, but it isn’t like I can ask her to quit her job. That would make me a controlling prick. And just from things she’s said, I know she doesn’t want to be controlled. I’m scared to even voice how I feel about her employment at Peaches. I know how many teammates go there, and it makes me fucking fume inside.

“I wasn’t making enough money here,” she says evenly. “And when I was approached to work at Peaches, I jumped on it.” She sighs. “Then again, this place never found out my visa wasn’t real. Guess I should have just stayed here, huh?”

“Does it bother you?” I blurt the words out before I have time to even stop myself. “Dancing in front of people you don’t know? Knowing they are turned on, watching your body move?” I swallow, cringing. “Because I’ll be honest, Ryann. I really, really hate it.”

She continues to twirl a spoon mindlessly in her coffee, looking down at it before glancing back to me. “When you come from what I did, a job is a job. I can separate the negative aspects of it and understand I’m doing it just to provide for myself. Well, myself and to help Riley.”

“Do you send money back home to her?”

“I try to,” she says softly. “The biggest thing was getting her a phone. And now that she has that, I feel a bit better, being so far away. She can call or text me if she needs anything.”

“What’s she like?”

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