Page 14 of Benji

Admittedly, I’d only had breakfast and a sandwich for lunch, but still, two meals a day was more than enough these days. I didn’t want to spoil myself and have my stomach used to regular feeds because next week, I’d be back to my old life of maybe a cup of cheap ramen a day.

“How’s your back? Can I get you anything?”

“I’m okay,” I replied. “My back’s feeling better already. But I might get up and walk around for a bit.”

He shot up from his seat and offered his hand. “Here, let me help you.”

I almost laughed, because I wasn’t that injured. “It’s fine, honestly.”

Having someone fuss over me felt really good, but it also felt wrong. I kept waiting for him to state the terms of his generosity, to tell me what he expected in return, but he didn’t. He was just... nice.

I got to my feet, slowly but unassisted and without wincing. “See?”

He was standing a little closer and had his hands out as if he wanted to touch me but wasn’t game. “Are you sure?”

I stretched my back a little. “Yep. You don’t need to fuss.”

I met his eyes then. Hazel, soft.

Kind.

Damn, he really was sexy. He had that intelligent and confident demeanour that I found incredibly attractive. There was no superiority, no conceit. It was a fine line to tread, but he did it well.

And his kindness. The biggest turn-on for me.

Nolan was ticking every box I had but I didn’t want to ruin his very generous offer by crossing lines. If I was going to be staying here a week, I needed to be on my very best behaviour.

“I’m just gonna do some laps of your hall, if that’sokay?” I asked, thinking some distance between us was for the best. “I think I need to move or I’ll seize right up.”

“Oh, sure, of course,” he said, moving out of my way. “And remember, the offer to use my bed still stands. If you need to lie flat, or whatever...” He did that cute grimace thing again. “You had some grazes on your back as well. If you need me to apply some antiseptic cream, I can. I saw them when you were in the bathroom, sorry. I didn’t mean to see, but you were shirtless, so...”

“Ah, it’s just a bit of gravel rash,” I said. I stretched my arm up to prove that it wasn’t anything to worry about. “Nothing too bad.”

He seemed somewhat convinced. “Okay.” He gestured to the messenger bag on the table. “I’m going to get some work done.”

“Will my walking up and down the hallway disturb you?”

He pulled out a laptop. “Not at all.”

I did a few laps while he typed away. I couldn’t see the screen from where I was, not that I’d have looked anyway. He was focused on his work, like I wasn’t even there, so I did a few more laps and then a few more.

It wasn’t far, down the short hall, across the living space to the front door and back again, but it did help with my back. My legs needed the stretch, and so did my mind.

I wasn’t used to sitting around and resting. The last two years had been a wild ride, every day was something new. Our apartment was small and there wasn’t anything in it to keep us occupied. No books, no television. So wenever stayed inside. There was always something happening on the street. Oxford Street was a hub of activity, day or night.

The park, the cafés, the shops were our social meeting place. And we didn’t only work at night. Daytime trade was a thing. Businessmen on a lonely lunch break, delivery men at any time of day, regulars who needed a quick BJ after a meeting...

The thing was, and this was something not many people understood, I enjoyed my work.

For the most part anyway. There were always exceptions, of course. But I was a sexual person. I loved dick. And since I’d come out at eighteen and began living my truest life, I hadn’t gone two days without some kind of sex.

I enjoyed the social aspect of living on Oxford Street and working the men who cruised there. It wasn’t a perfect life, don’t get me wrong. I didn’t want to be a sex worker growing up, but this was the situation I’d found myself in, and I had to make the best of it.

Except now I’d found myself spending a week in a lavish apartment with a hot, older rich guy. Which was great and all, and I appreciated the safety of his place. It was exceptionally generous and kind of him.

But how was I supposed to spend a week here without any social interaction? Without sex?

After my twentieth lap of his apartment, after I’d sat back down and tried to watch some TV while he typed away, I decided more laps were in order. Nolan lookedengrossed in whatever he was doing, but with each step, I was getting more bored and more antsy.

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