Page 72 of Playboy For Hire

“Do youwantto go home?”

“No, of course not. I never wanted to stay there. I know everyone thinks moving back to a small town sounds quaint and wholesome, and maybe it is for some people, but not for me.”

“Okay, then don’t. Stay here. Get a job in sales, or as a personal trainer, or whatever. To be honest, you’d probably be great at those. You’re so charismatic, you could charm the pants off someone and get any job, even if you were grossly unqualified.”

“Well, now you sound like my advisor,” Ryder said, and his tone made it clear he was annoyed.

“I’m sorry. I was joking. I didn’t realize—

“Didn’t realize I might care about the fact that I don’t have any actual hireable qualities? At least I have Heartbreakers to fall back on, if nothing else.”

“Well, yeah. But wouldn’t you rather have something you could tell your parents about? Something real?”

His eyes narrowed. “You just told me modeling is a real job. But my actual job, the one that’s the reason we even know each other, isn’t?”

“I’m just saying it’s not your only option.”

“I know, but it’s a damn good option at this point. It pays well, and I’m good at it.”

“Yeah, but you have to sell yourself to do it. Doesn’t it make you feel a little…” I trailed off. I wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. Wasn’t sure if I wanted to.

“A little what?”

“I don’t know. Forget it.”

“No, tell me what you were going to say.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Cheap? Used? Unfulfilled, if nothing else?”

“Actually, no. It doesn’t.” Ryder gave me a hard look. “I’m not ashamed of my job, you know.”

“I’m not saying you should be.”

“Except youare, by telling me I should feel used and cheap.” He grimaced. “Maybe we shouldn’t go out tonight.”

“Ryder, I didn’t mean—”

“Because right now, the only thing making me feel cheap is you.”

I looked at him helplessly. “I swear, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry if—”

“If what? If I got offended? Because it’s my fault for being sensitive about it?”

“No. I’m sorry if my words came out wrong. I never meant to imply there was something wrong with your job.”

“But you did.” Ryder shook his head. “Just go, Quinn.” He looked more tired than he had since I’d walked in. “I have stuff to get done anyway. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Tomorrow?” I asked.

“Busy tomorrow.”

“With a client?”

“Does it matter?” He gave me a level look.

It shouldn’t have mattered. But right now, the thought of Ryder with someone else made me want to punch someone, and I’d never been in a fistfight in my life.

But all I’d done tonight was make him angry, and probably hurt his feelings. I didn’t trust myself to try to answer.

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