Then she remembered she was camming with a client. She blinked and tried for a flirty smile. She could only imagine how maniacal she probably looked, but screw it.
“Okay,” she said, her breath noticeably short. “I did it. I’m here.”
So what if the guy had no way of knowing what making it up the stairs meant to her? It didn’t take away from her victory.
Still, as she continued catching her breath, she was surprised there wasn’t another ping telling her to move her ass and show him the rest of the second floor.
But there was no sound announcing a new message so she closed her eyes briefly and focused on her breathing. In two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.
She didn’t know how long she’d sat there just breathing in and out, but finally, even though her chest was still tight with anxiety, she felt like she just might be able to move again. Was the client even still on the call? Or had he bailed once he saw how long she was taking to follow his simple command.
A ping answered that question. He was still with her.
That’s right, baby. Show me everything you’re feeling.
She blinked, only slowly conscious that the camera had been on her the whole time.
She pasted on her patented smile and another ping immediately sounded.
You don’t have to smile for me. I like you raw.
She laughed, hoping he couldn’t hear the nervous edge to it. “Well, here I am. Raw and unfiltered.”
Show me around.
She nodded and picked up the camera. “This is the landing at the top of the stairs,” she said, panning the camera in a circle. “This is the second story. There are just two bedrooms and a bathroom up here. Not much to see.”
She held on to the wall and got shakily to her feet. She glanced in the direction of the stairs and felt her stomach leap with anxiety. Quickly, she moved further away from them, sticking close to the wall.
“This is supposed to be a guest bedroom but it mainly just gets filled up with junk,” she said, pushing the door open to the first bedroom. “Sorry, I don’t keep it tidy.”
The room was filled with odds and ends. There was a bed and boxes of keepsakes and old clothes. Some of Aunt Trish’s things that were too painful to keep around after she passed. Trish’s old rowing machine stood up against the wall in the corner.
As Sloane panned the camera around the room, it felt a little like she was looking at it with new eyes. Which she sort of was, considering this was the first time she’d been up here in over a year. It was the first time she’d been able to look at her great aunt’s things without being choked with overwhelming sadness. When she thought of Aunt Trish hunched over the sewing table, working on what was inevitably some sequined monstrosity—the woman had a serious love affair with sequins, arguably the herpes of fashionwear—it only made her smile.
And Sloane had done it. She’d faced her fears and come upstairs.
Now the other room.
She nodded, almost glad for Saint’s presence pushing her to keep moving. Even though she was mostly keeping her fears under control, she walked slowly, testing each step with her foot before committing. There wasn’t any water damage in this room but what if the leak had gotten into the wood below the carpet? What if it was all actually rotten and she fell through—
She shook her head. “Here’s the second bedroom.” She pushed the door open. “As you can see, we’re dealing with some cleanup here. The roof leaked last week and we’ve had to pull out the carpet.”
The floor was ugly with all the carpet ripped up. It exposed the raw wood underneath. It might have been nice hardwood at some point, but it was stained and discolored now.
Who’s WE?
“Oh.” Sloane wanted to smack herself. “Just a friend who’s helping me out with the cleanup.”
Is he your boyfriend?
“No,” Sloane said, too quickly. Shit. It might be smarter to tell this guy she did have a boyfriend. She knew some cam girls told their clients they were involved with someone, hoping it would cut down on the declarations of love and marriage proposals.
Too late now. At least with this client.
“He’s just a friend who knows how to do this kind of stuff,” Sloane said. She winced a little when she panned around the room. Nicholas had mentioned that he could sand down and refinish the floor to keep it hardwood. Now that Sloane could see it, she had an easier time imagining it. Still, it seemed like a lot of bother for a room she never spent time in.
Maybe she could spend time in it, though. All she had to do was conquer her fear of heights every time she came upstairs. Easy peasy. She rolled her eyes at herself sarcastically. Then she realized how long it had been since she’d spoken.