Page 32 of How We End
November 1
Julian lay next to me.His face was hidden by the darkness of the room.His arm lay heavy across my hips.The lights from the Strip played across the ceiling.This was where I got up and left, and yet I didn’t want to.I wanted to lie here and listen to him breathe, feel the weight of him next to me.But that wasn’t us.
Because there was no us.
What I felt was the hormones of what we experienced together, what I had been paid to do.I slipped from the bed, gathering up what clothes I could find, and slid the bathroom door closed.Black and white paint was smeared on my cheek and chest, on my stomach, and on the inside of my thighs.I had lived in this fairy tale for long enough.It was time to face reality.I dampened a corner of the washcloth, ready to wipe it all away, when the door slid open.
Julian stepped into the bathroom, and our eyes met.He took the washcloth and started with my jaw, the warm water running down my neck and chest.From my jaw he moved to my neck.My breath came out in uneven huffs as he moved to my breasts.All the time watching me in the mirror.He reached into the overnight bag on the counter and fished out a condom.
His eyes met mine as he positioned himself behind me.He pressed me against the counter.His hand came round, resting at the base of my neck.The paint on his hand was still intact; it was dark against my throat.
The cold stone counter cut into my hips.Julian’s hand slid up my throat, his thumb on my bottom lip.Now I know why people wanted to fuck in front of mirrors.Watching him, watching me made every muscle in my body turn liquid.His teeth skated across my shoulder.This.Watching him fuck me in the mirror, the sound of his breath, was what made getting out of that bed hard.It would make leaving this room hard, leaving him harder.
“Fuck, Cassidy.”
Cassidy.The name pulled everything back into focus.That was who I was with him in this moment.Who I had to be.And now, in the low light of the bathroom, all the mistakes I made were staring back at me.I had fucked him for free.I should’ve known better.I had been doing this since I was nineteen.I needed to grow the fuck up and act like the highly paid whore I was.Not some lovesick… not love.Hormonal teenager.
“You don’t have to leave,” he whispered in my ear.
“Yes, I do.”Because this was my job.And I’d crossed a line.I’d let myself fall into the same trap some clients do—mistaking sex for something more.Sex had a way of blurring things, like a sunset.Pretty, but deceptive.A moment that tricked you into thinking it meant more than it did.But once everything settled, once the hormones faded and the room cleared, this would be nothing but a mistake.
Not his.
Mine.
“At least let me call you a car,” he said, picking up the forgotten washcloth and running it under the faucet.
“It’s okay.I’ll get an Uber.”I looked at my discarded dress that lay in a heap on the floor.God, I really fucked this up.
“No, you won’t,” he said, wiping my jaw with the cloth.“This is not coming off.”
“Julian.”I took the washcloth; this really had to stop.He had to stop.Stop making me feel like what we had was more.If this whole hockey thing didn’t pay off for him, he could be an escort.He was good at making me feel special.“You don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?”He tipped my chin up.The paint on his face had smeared.
“This.”My nights didn’t end like this with clients.When their time was up, there were no moments like we had.Everyone gathered up their belongings and left.There was no softness.No kindness.“We don’t need anyone seeing us together.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”He cocked his head, his voice sharp.
I took a quick breath, searching the gray room for the words I needed to say.I forced myself to meet his eyes.“I’m an escort.I get paid to do this.And if…”
He pressed a finger to my mouth.“But I didn’t pay you.”
“Yeah, about that…” I walked out of the bathroom.It would be easier to have this conversation if we weren’t standing naked in front of each other.I stepped into the stupid dress.The corset boning cut into my ribs.
“Do you want me to pay you?”he asked, pulling a pair of sweatpants out of a duffel bag.
“No.This complicates everything.You.Me.I shouldn’t have done this.”Why would he pay if he knew he could get it for free?And what did that say about me if I wanted him to pay?I obviously liked having sex with him.
“Cass.”That name sounded like nails on a chalkboard.But it was why I had a whore name, to remind me of my place.“I’m not confused.I know how this works.It changes nothing.”
“But it does.Why would you pay for…?”I cursed at this stupid conversation and the stupid dress I was trying to put back on.
“Let me help.”His knuckles brushed against my spine.He pressed a kiss to my shoulder.“I’ll pay if that will make this easier.”
I turned to face him.I had two options: say yes and we continue as we had, or say no and never see him again.The latter made my heart break, and the first one was bad for business.
“No.I’m the one who said no.”I sat down on the bed to put my shoes back on.Neither of us said anything.Julian finished dressing.“I really have to go.”Maybe this was why Cinderella had to be home by midnight, so she wouldn’t make stupid mistakes with a man who looked so good after a good fuck.
