Scratch the Surface

“Yes, that’s right,” I quipped. “And I would never suggest anything as vile as you being a kept man. I’m not Richard Gere, and you’re certainly not Julia Roberts.”

“Is that what you think happened at the end of that movie?” He was scowling. “Because maybe he paid for school, but I’m thinking she went on to be a kickass businesswoman.”

“I refuse to get off track,” I declared, meeting his gaze. “Stop being defensive and answer my question.”

“Fine. What’s your question?”

“Are you or are you not sleeping with other people?”

“Not,” he answered through clenched teeth.

“Because you don’t have sex with strangers for money anymore, do you?”

“No,” he replied irritably.

I wanted to shout Ah-hah! but I stamped down the urge, knowing it wouldn’t be helpful in the least. “Because you only want to sleep with me,” I pressed for clarification.

“You know, I don’t know how we got––”

“I want you,” I informed him, “and because of that, I don’t want you to sleep with anyone else. It would hurt too much. And I know how that must sound since I’ve only known you for a minute, and I’m not proposing, but I would really like you to spend Thanksgiving with me if at all possible.”

The stunned look on his face made me grin.

“Did you even breathe when you said all that?”

Had I? “I’m not certain.”

“And I was worried you’d think I was the crazy one.”

“Which is not an answer.”

“Seriously, we don’t know each other well enough to be this honest. It’s weird. Don’t you think it’s weird?”

“It’s different and different is good.”

“Are you always like this?”

“No.” I decided to go with absolute honesty. “I seem to only be like this with you.”

He was staring at me, and it took me a moment to realize I was seeing uncertainty in his gaze.

“Really,” I assured him, my voice cracking with the rawness of the revelation. I was flayed open, and I was terrified he would laugh and end us in this moment. “You bring out something in me that’s brand-new.”

“Is that good?” His voice was crackly, guttural.

“I’m not sure yet. The only thing I know for sure at the moment is that I want to see you.”

“Yeah, well, I wanna see you too.”

“And just like that, we’re agreed.” I exhaled in relief. “Now, tell me what’s going on with you and why you looked so sad when I answered.”

He told me more about his classmate then, about Shawn, who had been taken into protective custody. It was all very exciting.

“Are you kidding?”

“Not at all,” I gushed. “I’ve never had a classmate of mine taken into protective custody, and I’ve certainly never been questioned by police detectives. It sounds thrilling.”

He groaned like he was dying.

“I’m sorry I’m so provincial,” I teased him.

“I don’t even know what that word means.”

“Yes, you do,” I apprised him. “Knock it off.”

His grunt made me smile.

“So what are the detectives doing now?”

“You’re way too invested in this.”

“I think I’m exactly the level of invested I should be. Now tell me.”

“I guess at the moment they’re trying to figure out what the bad guys are trying to find.”

“I thought mattresses only got cut open in the movies.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“And the pictures they showed you, did anyone look familiar?”

“No, but like I told them, between school and working at Kingman’s, I see so many people, and I’m not one of those ‘I never forget a face’ types. Kids I work with, coworkers, yeah, of course those are locked into my memory, but I don’t usually remember faces I don’t see on a regular basis.”

I smiled at him. He appeared exhausted, but somehow better than he had at the beginning of the call. “So…Thanksgiving?”

“You’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I just told you I’m in the middle of an investigation.”

“Oh please, you’re barely investigation adjacent.”

His brows shot up.

“What? It’s true.”

“You’re very strange, you know that?”

“I wasn’t before I met you. You’ve made me odd.”

“That can’t be a thing,” he replied, but I saw the twitch of his lip, as though he was trying not to smile.

“Say yes to me.”

“Listen, if––”

“You lied to me when I asked you if you were a hustler, because you saw an opportunity to get paid. Little did you know I was going to fall asleep on you, literally, and not give you a dime.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he murmured, and his smile made me wish I could reach through the screen and touch him. I needed to be back within touching distance, sooner rather than later.

Beautiful man, inside and out, and I wanted to lock down plans with him. “Come on, tell me you’ll come for Thanksgiving.”

“Only if I get to see you before. I refuse to have your parents thinkin’ I’m some perv you picked up who can’t keep their hands and mouth off you.”

“Oh?” I whispered. “You want to touch me and kiss me?”