Page 67 of Grind
Ezra’s mind was overcrowded with all the words he could say, but instead he smiled at Frank, hoping to distract him. “I haven’t been avoiding anything. We’re good the way it is.”
“Are we though? I need to know where your head is at, sweetie.” Frank made his point kissing his temple. “Do you want to add more pages to this notebook when Paul is no longer a concern? Would that be in LA, or here?”
Ezra’s mouth fell open. With Paul hunting him somewhere beyond the bounds of the junkyard, he couldn’t envisionanyfuture that didn’t involve Frank. But now that doubts hit him in the face, he was questioning his own sanity. Had he forgotten all about the goals and plans he’d worked for? For a guy who didn’t fit into them in the slightest? The answer lay in the way he still clung to Frank’s sturdy form, but what if the intense emotions he’d been feeling were only some freaky defense mechanism akin to Stockholm Syndrome? What if everything changed once he was free again?
“I—What doyouthink?” he asked to avoid the question.
Frank hummed so loudly Ezra felt it in his chest. “I think it depends on what you planned to do in California. But I’ll put my cards on the table, Ezra. I want you. You’re everything I never knew I needed. You’re fun to be around, smarter than you let on, and a damn catch. I know my place isn’t a big, luxurious mansion, but we could work something out, if you wanted to. That being said… if you choose to stay with me, you can’t hook up with other guys. It was one thing when I was your client, but if I’m to go all-in, I couldn’t bear knowing that you’re with someone else. I guess this is me trying to figure out if it’s non-negotiable for you. If you want to continue doing that kind of work more than you want me.”
Ezra stared at him, his brain starved of oxygen and unable to come up with an explanation for this that made sense. But there was only one—Frank was exactly the way he’d presented himself all along. Honest. Straightforward. Dependable.
Ezra made a stupid little noise and lowered his gaze, wrestling with his distrustful nature. Frank wasn’t like all the people who’d proven to be frauds in the past, and deep down he’d known it all along. That was why he’d trusted him. That was why he’d caught feelings.
He met Frank’s gaze, calmed by the warmth it radiated, but that didn’t make answering him any easier, so he chose to prod. “I overheard you and Shane talking behind the house.”
Frank groaned and covered his face, as if he were ashamed. “I’m sorry, I know he’s just looking out for me, but he did say some really shitty things. But I meant everything I said. I want to trust you, and I want to give us a shot. Ball’s in your court, sweetheart.” His chest sank in a deep exhale when he met Ezra’s gaze and played with his hair.
How was he so calm about all this while Ezra had deteriorated into a self-doubting mess? Would Frank always be a rock he could rely on or was this just an illusion hiding a pile of pebbles that might crumble at any second?
“You know who I am. You read that notebook,” Ezra insisted despite feeling his heart all the way in his throat. “Won’t you change your mind about this once you get used to my presence?”
Frank cradled his face with warm hands and gave him a kiss so intense it charmed the fear away. “I don’t care how many guys you’ve slept with as long as you’re mine now. It doesn’t change anything. The only things I do care about is why you chose to do that in the first place, how you feel about it now, or if you ever got hurt in the process. And those things matter to me because I want to understand you better. I wanted to before, but it wasn’t my place.”
Ezra hummed in agreement and rested his chin on Frank’s pec. He didn’t know how to handle this much sincerity, but faced with it, he could only lie his way out of the uncomfortable conversation or offer the same in return. And he didn’t want to play any more games with Frank.
This man was something else. And while he didn’t have the qualities of the enigmatic rich husband Ezra had imagined himself with in the future, the heart he’d long ago chosen to ignore wanted only Frank.
He sucked in a shivery breath, overcome by an onslaught of emotions he wasn’t yet ready to share. “You can ask them now.”
“Why did you choose to be an escort? I’m guessing it’s about the money, but it’s not a career many people would pick.” Frank brushed back a strand of hair that fell on Ezra’s forehead. His touch, so very gentle, sent heat down Ezra’s back, all the way to his toes.
They’d lain together many times, chatting after sex, but this felt different. As if every word said out loud might unlock a secret. For once, Ezra did not want to withdraw.
He trusted Frank.
Wanted him.
Wanted to be his.
Realization made his throat tighten but didn’t keep him from speaking. “I wanted to leave my family home, and this seemed like the fastest way to get me where I wanted to be in the future. I told you about a guy who offered to pay me for my time. I did my research after that, and because I was still living at home and didn’t need lots of cash right away, it was easy to start slow, picking clients willing to pay what I demanded. I got more of them through word of mouth and planned to never leave any trace online, but then Mom found out what I was up to, and my parents gave me an ultimatum. That’s when I posted my first ad and moved out.”
Frank hesitated, and in that moment it was obvious to Ezra it had never crossed his mind to look up Ezra’s profile online. Good. “Do you… like it? As a job, I mean. Is this something you wanted to keep doing in LA? Or was there… someone you wanted to join there?”
Another tricky question, but one that was easier to answer. “Depends. Sometimes, it felt like having the best time, and getting paid on top of that. Other times… well, it was just a job. I guess the worst part of it was having to pander to people I found insufferable, the best thing was learning what made people tick and—”
Being adored.
Knowing that to those men his worth was equal to expensive jewelry and thick wads of cash. “I like fucking,” Ezra said, biting his lip.
Frank’s warm eyes strayed to Ezra’s collarbones as he took a deep breath. “I hope getting paid for it didn’t change the way you feel about sex when it’s freely given?”
Before meeting Frank, Ezra wouldn’t have imagined a guy like him to be this perceptive. Between his size, the gruff exterior, and the tattoos, Ezra would have clocked him as a hot meathead, but he had a heart big enough to keep his strange junkyard family together, and more emotional intelligence than the therapist Ezra saw on occasion. Frank’s questions made Ezra feel seen, as if he didn’t just ask them to know how to trap Ezra more effectively.
“I was also hooking up with people out of work,” he said with a shrug, unsure what Frank wanted to gauge with that question. “I never had a boyfriend because it would complicate everything. But also, if—” He took a deep breath, looking away from Frank’s face. “Because of drama potential, and because that kind of person might just want to have me and not give much back.”
“What do you expect to receive then? From this boyfriend candidate?” Frank smirked and pulled on Ezra’s ear.
The squeeze inside Ezra’s chest felt almost painful. He didn’t know how he’d gotten entangled with Frank so fast, but it happened, and the only way was forward.
