Professional Distance (Thorne and Dash 1)

Why am I so fucking transparent? When he was really into a client that transparency paid off, but the rest of the time it was fucking annoying.

“Riley?” She wasn’t letting this go.

“I like him.”

“That ought to make it easier. Or is a whole weekend too long to have to be ‘Dash’ instead of ‘Riley’?”

If only she knew how little of “Dash” he was with Thorne these days. “I mean I really like him.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Ohhhhhh. That’s a different problem.”

Riley sighed. It’s a problem all right.

“So you turned him down?”

“I told him I’d think about it, but I’m an idiot to think this could go anywhere, right?”

“I don’t know, are you?” Susan asked as she placed a pan of cheese straws in the oven.

“He’s forty-two.”

Susan dusted her hands on her apron. “Wow. Practically ancient.”

Riley remembered that Thorne was probably ten years younger than Susan. “No offense, but yeah.”

“That is quite an age gap.” She handed Riley a cookie press loaded with cheese-straw dough. “Here, prepare another pan of those, and I’ll get started on the spinach dip.”

“He’s also rich as fuck.” Riley said as he concentrated on making the cheese straws all the same length.

“I’m not sure I see the problem with that.”

Riley raised his brows, and she tried, unsuccessfully, to snap him with the towel she was holding. “We have nothing in common except…”

“Sex.”

Heat crept into his face. They were moving into uncomfortable territory. “Right.”

“Are you sure?” Susan asked. “Isn’t this the guy you went out to dinner with?”

“Yes, but—”

“Didn’t you say you enjoyed talking to him?”

“Sure, but that’s just the fascination of getting to know someone. It’s not sustainable.”

Susan shrugged. “Maybe not.”

“What do I do?”

“Whatever your heart tells you.”

“That is bullshit.”

She laughed. “Maybe, but I can’t tell you.”

Riley wanted an easy answer but admired Susan for not giving him one. He stepped behind Susan and caught her in a hug, not caring how messy they both were. “You’re awesome, you know that?”

“I try.”

When Riley finished helping Susan clean up, he hung up his apron and brushed the flour out of his hair. How did it always manage to get everywhere?

“Let me know what you decide and take care of yourself,” she called as he headed out the door.

“Will do.”

Once he was in his car, he called Marc who answered almost immediately. “Riley, it’s been too long. What’s up?”

“You were right.” He braced himself for Marc’s crowing.

“About what?”

“Thorne.”

Marc laughed. “Of course I was.”

“He wants me to stay for the whole weekend.”

Marc whistled. “Sounds lucrative.”

“Marc.” Riley’s tone was sharp.

“Sorry. Tell me what happened.”

“Not much to tell except that it finally happened. I fell for a client.”

“Like really, truly, your heart is totally in this, or ‘wow, this is the best sex of my life, I hope he keeps on hiring me’ fell for him?”

Riley sighed. “I wish it was the latter.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. You called it.”

“I was teasing.”

Riley knew Marc was lying, but he appreciated that he wanted to make Riley feel better. “No, you were serious.”

“I thought you were moony over him, riding the waves of really hot sex with a compatible partner, not truly falling in love.”

“What the fuck do I do?”

“What do you want to do?”

How was he supposed to answer that? What he wanted was impossible. “If I knew, I wouldn’t have called you.”

“I guess not, but seriously, have you thought this through? You’re coming to me for relationship advice?”

Marc had a point. He had a knack for picking the worst men ever. “I’m coming to you for advice from a fellow escort. This isn’t a relationship.”

“You want it to be.”

“No. Yes. I’m crazy, aren’t I? You know what Thorne is like.” Riley had come to resent just how well Marc knew Thorne. That alone should have set off warning signals.

“He’s a good man,” Marc said. “Despite his idiosyncrasies.”

“He is, but can you see us in a relationship?” The last word dripped with so much bitterness Riley wondered if it would burn the phone.

“Riley, how much do you want this?”

“‘This’ being Thorne?”

“No, a ride to the fucking moon. Of course I mean Thorne.”

“I don’t know.” He did though. He wanted it with all his heart in a way he’d never wanted a man before.

“That’s what you have to figure out, then. You’ve got two choices. You can walk away now, or you can work for what you want and risk it destroying you.”

Riley sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Destruction.”

“You’ll survive whatever happens. But unless you want it bad enough to see where it leads and damn the consequences, the sooner you end it, the better.”

Riley’s chest felt tight as if someone were squeezing the air out of him. “It’s not going to lead anywhere.”

“That does not sound like the Riley I know. When have you ever been a pessimist?”

“I’m trying to be a realist.”

Marc sniffed. “It doesn’t look good on you.”