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I took a few deep breaths before studying myself in the mirror. My face was pale, and my eyes too bright, but I splashed water on my face and practiced smiling until it looked normal.
Forget how foolish you are for falling in love with him. You shouldn’t have turned down his offer of a play session for tomorrow. You’re giving it to him for free when your mother needs your help.
I sighed and closed my eyes. It had been a mistake, but I would send Friday night’s payment plus my grocery money to my parents. I’d have to be creative with my meals and eat smaller portions until my next paycheque, but I wouldn’t starve to death or anything.
So, now you’ll go hungry just to pretend that Deacon wants you for something more than sex?
No, that wasn’t it. Deacon had made it more than clear that our relationship was transactional, but my bruised and broken heart demanded something in return for accepting I would never have his love. Continuing to pretend this weekend meant as much to Deacon as it did to me was the best I could give it.
CHAPTER 31
Deacon
I knocked on Riley’s door, glancing with distaste at the hallway around me. Her building wasn’t terrible, but the smell of urine and stale cigarette smoke permeated the carpet below my feet. I hadn’t needed to push the button next to her name, which was labeled neatly beside apartment 206, because of the broken lobby security door.
So you walked right on in, and now you’re knocking on her door, huh? No text or call beforehand. Just showing up at her place on a Tuesday night like you have that right.
I clutched the book in my suddenly sweaty hand and shifted the bag of food in the other hand. Maybe I was making a mistake, but I needed to see Riley, and if I had texted her beforehand, she might have said no to me stopping by. I’d been locked in meetings for most of Monday and today, and Riley had spent most of her time helping the financial advisors. I’d seen very little of her and hardly spoke to her, and I missed her.
Why didn’t you book a session with her then? You think she’s not used to last minute booking requests from you?
I hadn’t booked because I wanted to see her without having to pay for it. I wanted to talk to her and touch her and kiss her because we both wanted it, not because she was providing a service.
Maybe that isn’t what she wants?
It was. It had to be. She’d refused three times to let me book with her on Saturday and Sunday, but she stayed with me until Sunday afternoon. That had to mean something, right? Eloise had never deliberately said no to spending time with me that wasn’t specifically booked, but the few times she’d spent the night without me paying the agency, she hadn’t been shy about mentioning her money issues and how tight things were for her without my bookings.
So, now you’re falling for someone else who very obviously does this only for the money. What is wrong with you? Have you learned nothing from Eloise?
I ignored my inner voice as I knocked again. I’d offered to pay Riley, and she said no, despite it being obvious she’d only signed up with the agency for the money. So, if she was willing to give up the money, then maybe that meant she felt something more for me, too.
I knocked a third time, harder and longer. Maybe Riley wasn’t at home. Maybe she was out doing another booking with someone else because she’d lost out on cash this weekend. Maybe she was on her knees at this very moment, being someone else’s good girl.
My stomach roiled, and I stepped back just as the door opened. Riley, looking sweaty and wearing tight leggings and a - God help me - sports bra, stared at me in surprise before removing her earbuds. “Deacon? What are you doing here?”
I held up my copy of the new Lisa Gardner book. “I’m starting a book/dinner club. Want to be a member?”
She stared in shocked silence before starting to laugh. She backed up and gasped, “Get in here, you weirdo.”
I stepped inside her apartment, closing the door behind me as her giggles trailed off. She grinned at me. “Hi.”
“Hi there. You look…”
“Sweaty,” she said.
“I was going to say good enough to eat, but then thought that might be inappropriate for book club.”
“That depends on the book we’re reading,” she said. “Come in.”
I followed her down the narrow hallway to her main living space. The kitchen was galley style and separated from the living room by a wall. I could see a door leading into her bedroom and a second door that I assumed was the bathroom. The place was small but cozy looking. I placed my book and the food on the small table in the tiny nook off the kitchen and studied the three bookshelves stuffed with books on the far wall.
She followed my gaze, blushing a little. “I told you I was book obsessed.”
She grabbed a hand towel and blotted her face with it.
“So, why are you sweaty?” I asked.
She laughed. “I was doing my workout video.”
