Kept Man: Firsts and Forever Stories

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because I know you.”

He chuckled at that. “I think you’re implying I’m clumsy.”

“Oh, I’m not implying it,” I teased. “Let’s see the damage.”

He panned down to show me an icepack on his knee. “It was going well, until I took a turn too fast and crashed into a wall.”

“How bad is it? Should you be calling a doctor?”

“Nah, it’s just bruised.”

“Well, that’s good. But next time I leave, I’m wrapping you in bubble wrap.”

“I’m not that bad. I managed to keep myself alive for two whole months before I met you.” His smile was warm and genuine, and I found myself smiling too.

“Technically, you’ve kept yourself alive for thirty-eight years.”

“True, but the last bit was when it got dicey. I’m not someone who should be left to his own devices.”

“I see that.” I held up the paper bag I was holding and said, “By the way, I bought you a present. Want to see it?”

“No! Keep it as a surprise. I got you a gift too, but unlike you, I’m not about to show you until you get home.”

“So, you’ve been online shopping again.”

He grinned and nodded. “With two-hour delivery.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely not someone who should be left unsupervised.”

“You’re right. That’s why you need to hurry home.”

“It’s going to be a little while,” I reminded him. “After this, I’m meeting that guy I mentioned, the one who emailed me with questions about being a sex worker. Then this evening is the art class I told you about. That’s supposed to run from six to nine.”

“I know, and I’m sorry to be so needy. I’m acting like a puppy, whining at the door and waiting for your return.” I didn’t tell him I’d used the same analogy.

“I’d be the same way if I was the one stuck at home. Hey, while I’m thinking about it, would you be willing to host Ash and his boyfriend for dinner, sometime after your PO clears them?”

He perked up at that. “I’d love to. Send me their information, so we can get the process started.”

“I will. I’d better go see what my friends are up to, but I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Hey, Jasper?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for checking in with me. It means a lot.”

I said, “I just want you to know I miss you, and I’m thinking of you.”

“You miss me? After being stuck with me twenty-four-seven, I assumed you couldn’t wait to get away from me for the day.”

“I really like you, Micah, and I enjoy your company. I’ll see you tonight, probably around nine-thirty.”

He gave me the sweetest smile and said, “See you then.”

Once we disconnected the call, I sighed and returned the phone to my pocket. Okay, so maybe we were both becoming a little codependent after spending so much time together. But I really liked Micah…as more than a friend.

That realization made me whisper, “Oh hell.”

This wasn’t supposed to happen. No good could come from developing a crush on a client. And Micah was such a mess. He was…

Okay, so he was kind, and beautiful, and fun to be with, and so damn sexy I could barely stand it.

But come on. This wasn’t going to work. Even if he hadn’t sworn off relationships, someone like him would never end up with someone like me.

I stared into the pond, watching the flashes of white, orange, and gold beneath the water’s surface. What the hell was wrong with me? I was setting myself up for heartbreak, and I knew better. I had to ignore my attraction to Micah and keep reminding myself it was just a job—even if it really didn’t feel like it.

Later that afternoon, I got comfortable on a café’s sidewalk patio and sipped an iced coffee. Ash and I had gone back to our apartment for a while, where he paced and waited for a phone call, even though the real estate agent had told him it’d be at least twenty-four hours until he heard anything definite about the house. Then I’d left for my meeting with Seth, the newbie rent boy.

Somehow, I knew it was him at first glance, maybe because he looked a bit lost. He was a tall, cute boy-next-door type with short, blond hair, a muscular build that made me think he’d probably played high school football, and an innocent, doe-eyed expression which seemed out of place on a guy built like a Mack truck.

He saw me watching him, so he asked, “Are you Jasper? I’m Seth.”

“Yes, and here’s my advice to you—don’t do it. You don’t want to be a sex worker.”

That startled him, and as his cheeks turned pink he mumbled, “It, um, it’s kind of too late.” Then he gestured at the chair on the other side of my table and asked, “Is it okay if I sit down?”