Page 47 of Off Limits

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Grabbing my phone off the mattress, I checked my notifications.

Dex: are you home?

Was it weird that both Dex and I called his apartment my home? I didn’t live here; I was just crashing in his den until I found a new place. But calling it home didn’t feel weird, and he obviously felt the same. Maybe it was because his apartment felt more like a home than any of the places I’d lived since I moved out.

Dex wasn’t some design guru or anything, but he’d put effort into making his apartment look like a cohesive, welcoming space. His furniture was obviously inexpensive, but it didn’t look cheap, and the little personal touches like candles and embroidered pillows and framed art prints on the walls made the space homey.

I’d never had a place big enough to bother trying to furnish with anything other than what I could thrift, and I’d never had the extra cash to buy decorations or any sort of personalized stuff to display.

Dex didn’t have a pile of debt like I did. Personal trainers weren’t exactly rolling in dough, but he made decent money at the gym, and he was responsible with his money. Plus, he was apparently saving what he made camming so he wouldn’t have to work as much when he started his program in the fall.

Those were just a few of the differences between us. Dex was an adult who had his shit together. I was cosplaying one and barely keeping my head above water.

Not wanting to let those thoughts dig in too deep, I opened our text thread so I could answer him.

Asa: yeah

Asa: why?

I cringed a bit. Thatwhysounded bitchy for no reason.

Dex: I wanted to run something by you before I got home so you’d have a chance to think about it

Asa: okay, shoot

Dex: what would you think about doing another show this friday?

I gaped at my phone as a weird flutter exploded in my chest and stomach. Of all the things I expected him to say, that wasn’t even on my list of possibilities.

Dex: I think it would be smart to do it right away if we’re going to do it at all

Dex: strike while the iron is hot or whatever the saying is

Dex: you don’t have to answer now. Think about it and let me know later

I barely finished reading his text before I started typing out my reply

Asa: I think that’s a good idea

Asa: were your viewers saying anything about it on Saturday?

We hadn’t talked about the show at all other than to discuss how much we made and when Dex would cash out his tokens and send me my share. I assumed his audience enjoyed it, considering how much money we made, but I had no idea if most of the tips had come from his regulars or just randoms who happened to stumble on his room.

Dex: they wouldn’t shut up about it lol

Dex: I spent the whole show talking about it and trying to describe it to them. I wish I had your talent with words because I could have made so much more $ if I was a writer like you

My cheeks heated, and another weird feeling settled in my stomach. Dex knew that writing was my thing, like football was his, but he’d never read any of my stuff. No one had, and most people brushed it off as just another one of my many quirks when they found out.

My friends at work were the only ones who’d ever shown me any sort of support and encouragement, and hearing Dex call me a writer affected me way more than it probably should.

Asa: you think they enjoyed it?

I chewed on the corner of my lip, not sure why I’d written that. Why did I care if they liked watching us? They already paid us. That was the only thing that mattered.

Dex: oh yeah

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