Page 29 of Playboy For Hire

“It wasn’t pity. It really wasn’t. I was just trying to help.”

“Look, just…go home, okay? I want to be alone, and you don’t need to stick the party around if I’m not going to be here.”

“Are you sure?” I frowned. “I don’t mind hanging out a little longer, if you just want to go and—”

“Just leave me alone, Ryder, okay? I don’t need your help anymore. It was nice meeting you and all, but you’re off the hook now. Date over. I’ll see you around.”

He stalked off into the night, leaving me wondering, yet again, how the hell I’d managed to fuck up so thoroughly.

I was still wondering about it on Monday, three days later.

I knew I wasn’t wrong about Brandon and Quinn. I didn’t know the details, obviously, but something had clearly happened between them, and it had ended badly.

I’d seen that look in people’s eyes before. Usually girls who I was letting down easy. Which made me a little uncomfortable. Was I a Brandon, in a world full of Quinns? I hoped not.

But I was careful to be clear with people upfront about what I wanted. Ever since things had ended with Molly, I’d been careful to keep things nice and casual. And somehow, I didn’t think what had happened between Quinn and Brandon was casual.

I was still worried I’d offended Quinn, though. I’d thought he said we didn’t have to kiss because he was trying to savemefrom discomfort. But if he was trying to save himself instead, and I’d just barged in with my lips and messed that up, I felt awful. What if I’d violated him?

I wanted to reach out and ask if we could meet up again. But that was strictly against policy. No contact after an appointment unless the client initiated it. Besides, if I really had invaded Quinn’s space, I was probably the last person he wanted to see.

But I still itched to apologize.

“Stop pacing,” said Raf from the couch. “You’re ruining the game.”

Raf was one of my housemates, and he was ridiculously invested in the Wizards. He was watching a game he’d recorded last week.

“I’m nowhere near the TV,” I said.

“Yeah, but your nervous energy is makingmenervous, and I’m worried enough about the game already.”

I looked at the screen. The Wizards were down twenty points and the third quarter was almost over. “You already know how it ends,” I told him. “How can you possibly be in suspense?”

“Yo, Ryder, wanna come to the gym with me?” asked Amir, my other housemate, bounding down the stairs in basketball shorts and a cut-off tank top. It was frigid outside today, but he’d probably leave the house in nothing more than that.

“Oh my God, please,” Raf said. “Get him out of here and give him some stimulation so he’ll chill the fuck out.”

“Oh, I can give him stimulation,” Amir said with a lecherous smile. “I can give him all kinds of stimulation.”

He licked his lips suggestively, and I laughed. Amir was bi and he delighted in flirting with everyone. He’d flirt with the Dalai Lama, just to see what kind of reaction he’d get. Just doing his part for problematic bisexual representation, he liked to say.

I took Amir’s flirting about as seriously as I took the Wizards’ chances of winning this game.

“Much as I’d love to help you, I have to decline,” I said. “It was leg day this morning, and I don’t think I’ve got anything in the tank after that workout.”

“Jesus, you’ve already been to the gym and you’re still this antsy?” Raf complained. “What the fuck is up, dude? You’ve been on edge all weekend.”

I wanted to protest that I hadnotbeen on edge, but that would just make me sound childish, and besides, Raf was probably right. I couldn’t stop thinking about Quinn and our kiss.

“If you’re not going to hook up or spot me at the gym,” Amir said, heading for the front door, “I guess you’ll just have to drink yourself into insensibility. It’s the only option.”

“I cosign that,” Raf said. “As long as you don’t come home and puke on the kitchen floor again.”

“That happenedone time,” I said irritably, “a year ago, and I—”

I stopped mid-sentence, an idea occurring to me. Maybe I should go get a drink. Maybe I should go down to Logan Circle and justhappento get thirsty and justhappento stop into Bar Onze, and justhappento see if Quinn was there.

That was where he’d said his date would be, right? He hadn’t mentioned the time, but that was alright. It was almost four o’clock. I could bring my laptop, maybe even get some schoolwork done if I had to hang around for a while. There was nothing criminal about that, right?

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