Sell My Soul (Sixty Days 1)

I squeezed her arm. “Thanks, for trying to help. It means a lot.”

I didn’t want them to leave. Not for a second. I wanted Rebecca to tell me everything. Spill the details of every single second she’d spent with him and more besides.

The way she grabbed her own bag and got to her feet told me without a doubt that she’d be keeping her cards firmly to her chest from here on in.

“You walking with us?” Carolyn asked, but there was no way I wanted to intrude on their conversation. I felt like I’d intruded enough for a lifetime already.

I pointed to my glass, still half full. “Go ahead,” I said. “I’ll finish up and head back to dorms.”

She leaned in for a hug and I squeezed her hard.

“I’ll see you on campus.”

“See you soon,” I said, and managed a wave to Rebecca. “Nice to meet you.”

She nodded. “And you,” she said, but I’m not sure I believed her.

They didn’t need to get the bill. Not with the generous sum of cash on the table top.

I watched them leave. Carolyn’s finger was jabbing in Rebecca’s direction before they were even out of sight.

It took me less than a minute before I grabbed my mobile from my handbag with shaking fingers.

I called up his profile and clicked the message button with my breath in my throat.

My words were desperate and instinctive, I didn’t even read them back before I pressed send.

Please tell me the sixty days are still on. I really need them to be. I’m sorry you found me here. Please don’t hold it against me. I’ll do whatever you say, I swear.

The sent icon flashed up on my screen and I took a deep breath.

I just hoped he got it. Soon. Before he could scrub me off the list and call some other girl in my place. Some other girl who didn’t stalk down the ones he’d already paid for services and try to drag their private stories out over cocktails.

I just hoped I was still enough for him after seeing me under actual lightbulbs and not teetering around in the beachy shadows.

Maybe that was why he hadn’t spoken a word to me.

Maybe I was every bit as much the ugly duckling next to Rebecca Lane as I feared.

I jumped a mile when a ping sounded. Thumbs fumbling with my lock screen in my scrabble to get to the message.

My heart was pumping in my ears when his profile picture showed in my notifications.

I could barely breathe for the nerves as I clicked to pull it up.

My eyes must’ve been as wide as saucers as I feasted on the message in front of me. So focused on reading his reply that I barely noticed the shadow looming over me.

You can apologise in person, the message said.

I jumped a whole load more than a mile as he lowered himself into the chair next to me.Chapter Twenty-TwoBrandonOh how she started when I took a seat at her side. I wasted no time in getting down to business.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” I told her.

She was different to the Lane girls. Her eyes were naturally downcast, not daring to meet with mine. Her knees were tight together, her posture rigid like a schoolgirl in a draconian classroom.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I wanted to be prepared. I was worried I wouldn’t be… I don’t have much… experience…”

I leaned towards her. “And what makes you think for a second I want experience?”

Those pretty eyes of hers shot right up to mine. “You don’t? But I thought… Rebecca seems…”

“Rebecca seems what?”

She shrugged.

I waited.

She took a tiny sip of her cocktail and shrugged again.

“Rebecca is beautiful. Amazing. Confident. I’m sure she knew exactly how to please.”

The girl’s inherent humility was captivating. Rebecca Lane was a fine looking specimen, certainly. She’d been a lucrative sixty-day offering. Loud and expressive. Eager to perform. Easy to break.

But Rebecca Lane had nothing like the natural potency of the flower in front of me. Self-conscious in the most touching of ways. Sweet and demure, with an obvious willingness to sacrifice herself for the good of others.

Yet the sweet little flower had a potent dirtiness at her centre. A need in her eyes that called my name, craving the darkness that came with surrender.

“You have exactly what I’m looking for,” I told her, surprised at the sincerity in my tone.

A shocked flash of her eyes. A glorious flush shining through her makeup.

“I do?”

I graced her with a sly smile. “Yes, Paige Emmerson. You do.”

“You know my name,” she said, with little surprise. “Rebecca said you would know everything. She said you have contacts.”

“I have many contacts. Knowing everything is important in my line of business.”

She twisted a little closer to facing me. “You knew I was here tonight with Rebecca, didn’t you?”

“Either that or a very lucky coincidence, don’t you think?”