Page 8 of Pretending I'm Yours

If I hurry, there will be no one to overhear the madness about to come out of my mouth.

“I need your help,” I blurt out, my pulse already racing. “With something…kind of crazy.”

Weaver glances up from where he’s just finished sliding the dirty dishes into the already overflowing machine. “Crazy, huh?” His lips hook up on one side as he closes the washer. “Is this going to get me in trouble with Sully?”

“No.” I shake my head, blinking as the room spins a little.

Wow. I have had alotof chardonnay.

But that’s okay. That’s what had to happen to give me the courage to say the crazy stuff out loud.

“But you have to promise not to tellherthat I toldyouthat she toldmewhat she told me,” I babble, words coming fast with a mixture of nerves and fear that we’ll be interrupted before I get to the big ask. “I promised I wouldn’t tell, but Ihaveto tell. I would usually never break a promise, but I’m desperate and afraid I’ll never get another chance at something like this if I don’t ask this favor now.”

His smile fades, his expression growing serious as he nods. “All right. Shoot. I’m happy to help if I can.”

He’s telling the truth.

He loves Sully so much that her friends are his friends now. Weaver cares about Elaina, Sydney, and me, and wants our dreams to come true, I truly believe that.

The knowledge helps keep me from blushing hard enough to catch fire as I explain what Sully told me about the sex club they visited in New York.

And about his friend, who she was pretty sure ran a high-class escort service on the side, although Weaver refused to confirm or deny her hunch the night they were there doing wicked things to each other in a secret room…

“So, if that’s true,” I exhale in a rush as Weaver continues to stand staring at me with his inscrutable gray eyes. “Well, then I would like to…you know.”

His brows lift the slightest bit. “No, I don’t know.”

I swallow around the anxiety knot in my throat. “Well, if itistrue, and the people she employs are safe and nice and trustworthy—and not too terribly expensive—then I would…” I take a fortifying gulp of my chardonnay, blurting out as I swallow, “I’d like to hire someone to show me things. Sexual things.”

His expression shifts only the tiniest bit, but Weaver is a master of the stone face. That twitch around his eyes was the equivalent of a jaw drop from anyone else.

I hurry to assure him, “I’ve thought about this, I promise. I know what I’m asking.” The wine makes the words tumble out faster. “I’m twenty-four years old, with no prospects on the horizon, and I’m dying to know what I’m missing. But I can’t find out here. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone thinks I’m a boring little mouse with the sex vibe of a bag of animal crackers.”

“Animal crackers?” he echoes dryly. “I doubt that. You’re an attractive young woman, Maya. Not to mention kind and a wonderful friend.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes, the way I do every time some well-meaning member of my family says the same sort of thing. “Thank you, but no one around here shares your opinion, and I’m too much of a scaredy cat to try to pick up a stranger in Boston or New York City or anywhere else. Men are dangerous, Weaver. I’ve listened to all the murder podcasts. I know thestatistics. In the U.S., men are the leading killer of women under the age of forty-four.Killer, Weaver. I could be killed trying to find a boyfriend orbymy boyfriend if he turns out to be as awful as my sister’s ex-husband. And I’m not ready to roll the dice on that. I just want to satisfy my curiosity with someone professional and…safe.”

A darkness moves behind his eyes, but I know I’m not the thing that’s made him angry. “I’m sorry you have to consider things like that when looking for a partner. Men should be fucking better.”

“I know, but a lot of them aren’t, so…” I trail off with a shrug. “So maybe it’snottotally crazy to do something like this?” I glance toward the front room, ensuring we’re still alone before adding in a soft hiss, “Even though it’s technically illegal, and I guess I could go to jail if I get caught?”

“I’m sure the police have better things to do than prosecute a young woman looking for a safe way to engage with a man on her own terms,” he says, sending a flutter of hope through my chest even though he still looks decidedly less-than-thrilled by our conversation. “Does Sully know about this plan?"

“No.” I shake my head. “Like I said, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that I knew about the club or your friend. And I don’t want her to know. I don’t really wantyouto know, either, but you’re the only person who might be able to connect me with this woman so…”

He sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m probably going to regret this, but…all right. I’ll set up a meeting.”

I bite my lip and stand up straighter. “Really? You will?”

“I will. When are you available?”

“Christmas Eve through New Year’s Day,” I say, hurrying on at his surprised look. “It’s the only time I can get away from the rental business. I’ll be in New York City for the entire week. I told my mom I’m cat sitting for a friend of Sydney’s. She wasn’thappy about me missing the holidays with the family, but she knows how much I love cats. And I told her I’d take Pudge with me so she wouldn’t have to cat-sitmycat while I was cat sitting someone else’s cat so…”

He sighs again. “All right. Fine. I’ll make a call and text you the details.”

I set my wine on the island, threading my fingers together in a single grateful fist. “Oh, thank you, Weaver. Thank you so much. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

Now…

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