Taunt Me (Rough Love 2)

“Keep your fucking voice down.”

“You care about me. You wouldn’t have done all the things you’ve done if you didn’t have a heart. Why can’t we try a relationship and see where it goes?”

It’ll go to hell, starshine. It’ll go to sadness and destruction. Out loud I said, “I don’t want a fucking relationship with you. Get over it. There’s no fucking way.”

She kept at me like a fucking badger. “All through the internship you told me there’s always a way. Don’t let anyone tell you no. I know we’re both fucked up. I know we both have issues—”

“I meant that there was always a way in design.”

We fell silent, scowling from opposite sides of the table. The waiter slunk back to get my card. Once he left, she frowned at me and sat up very straight.

“There’s a way for us, Price,” she said.

“Oh yeah?” I sneered. “Love? Marriage? Children?”

“If you want it. You said to never accept the answer no.”

“Too bad. I’m telling you no. That’s not what I want.”

“The dungeon then. A slave and a lover.”

A slave and a lover. Would that be so bad?

Yes. For her, it would be the worst fucking thing of all.

“You just graduated,” I said again, and now I sounded like I was pleading.

“What are you afraid of?”

I’m afraid of your unhappiness. I’m afraid you’ll want to go, and I won’t want to let you go.

“Can’t we wait?” I asked. “Can’t we wait a fucking month or two, until you’re settled in a job? I like things the way they are. Why do we have to force ourselves into some kind of serious relationship just because you’re out of school?”

She looked away from me, hunching her shoulders even higher. She didn’t understand. There’s always a way, she insisted. Why had I told her that? Every relationship I’d ever entered had ended in drama or litigation. There was no happily ever after with a guy like me, which I’d repeatedly tried to explain to her.

But maybe…this time…

She’s not like the other ones.

That was the danger. She wasn’t like the other ones. She didn’t just want my cock or my money. She was after my fucking soul.

Chere

“So, can you come?” Andrew asked, bouncing up and down on my couch. “You have to come. It’s going to be a huge party. Craig’s invited tons of his art friends, and three or four of the curators from the Met.”

“I’m definitely coming,” I said, which sent him into more paroxysms of joy.

Now that Andrew had graduated, his boyfriend Craig was throwing him a launch party at the gallery where he worked. They were going to put up Andrew’s paintings and show them off to everyone in Manhattan’s high-art network, from the tastemakers to the gallery owners and museum curators. It was perfect timing, because Andrew had recently turned in his notice to Henry. He told me he felt like a quitter.

I told him it was okay, because he’d found something better than escorting. Love.

Yes, Andrew was in love. I’d met Craig and Andrew for dinner a few days ago, and I absolutely approved. They were an amazing couple. Price had come too, to finally meet my friend. It was the first time we’d had a “date” type of dinner with another couple. Andrew had phoned me afterward to swoon repeatedly about Price, at least until Craig called him away into the bedroom. They were already living together, because they were that loved up.

Meanwhile…Price and I…

Ugh. I’d talked the big talk about wanting to be independent, about not wanting to participate in any more relationships, but I was full-on in love with him again, and the sentiment was not returned. The most committed thing we’d done since I graduated was exchange test results so we could stop using condoms.

As for my job search, I tweaked my resume and sent it out, but the big houses were looking for on-trend designers, not someone who delighted in the strange and spare. Bulgari offered to bring me on as an unpaid intern, but the last thing I wanted was another internship. My career advisor at Norton called the second week out. Was I finding success in my job search? Had I tapped into my contacts? When I explained my unsuitability for the current market, they advised me to stay in touch with my internship mentor.

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing my temples. “I’ve been doing that.”

Price hounded me to strike out on my own. He said I had a vision, something new to offer the world if I’d get my ass in gear and go for it. He told me he’d punish me if I didn’t secure my first bespoke customer by August. All I could think was, why am I in love with you again, after what happened last time? Why am I so fucked up?