Sitting back on my heels, blanket lost along the way, I rub my hands over my face.
“You have to go?” Trick asks.
I nod, blown away by the timing. Some idiot was probably preoccupied on their cell phone causing a huge accident riddled with casualties. I should take this opportunity to count my blessings and realize my issue is nothing compared to the victims on their way to the hospital. But I’m human and a very selfish part of me feels like one of the casualties today.
“We can continue this intriguing conversation later.” Trick stands, pulling on a gray pair of sweat pants while I dress with swift moves.
“If you don’t erase it or if you watch it, we’re over.” I pull on my shirt and shove my phone into my handbag.
Trick grabs my waist and jerks me into his bare chest. “We’re never over.” He nips at my pouty bottom lip.
I shove his chest and head to the elevator. “We are if you don’t do what I ask. If you watch that I swear I will hate you forever!”
I turn and shut the elevator gate, a stern warning on my face.
“Yeah, well I’ve been the recipient of your so-called hate before, and I think it’s kinda hot.” He wets his lips. “Besides, I was here. Is there a particular performance you’re not proud of?”
I press the down button, scowling as he disappears.
Yes, Trick! I’m not particularly proud of the “performance” where I masturbated while watching you shower … more than once!
Chapter Twenty-Four
Thirteen people were involved in the accident, eight survived … for now, and two of the eight survivors are children. Their parents were both casualties. A younger version of Trick flashes in my head. One day your parents are here, the next day they’re gone. Yet, I still can’t piece that part of his past together. It doesn’t make any sense.
It’s nearly eleven at night by the time I get home and my next shift is in the morning. Trick hasn’t tried calling or texting. I have to hope for the small silver lining to this emotional day—he erased the recordings without watching them first. Trick may be introverted, but I bring out his cocky side and I know he wouldn’t wait one second to call me about my ‘performance’ so I don’t think he’s watched it.
The faster we can forget about all my performances, including my meltdown this afternoon, the better. I take the lead by sending off a quick text as if nothing happened.
Me: Just got home. Sooo tired. Dinner tomorrow? Love you