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He shrugs his shoulders innocently, and I kind of feel for him because that does make sense. This wasn’t the career path I ever envisioned for myself, and the way he found me is oddly close to how I stumbled into making adult content in the first place. When I dropped out of college and got my first van with the money I was supposed to be using for the next year’s tuition, I picked up odd jobs in small towns here and there. The occasional waitressing job, bartending—whatever I could do to make a few bucks and cover my costs for campgrounds, gas, and van maintenance.
My real passion was social media. I loved taking photos of whatever I was doing and sharing my travels. I quickly realized that the pictures I posted of me, especially in short hiking shorts, or a swimsuit by a lake or the beach, were by far the most popular ones. Cam work had never really crossed my mind, but a little research showed me how I could monetize my social media popularity and give myself the true freedom and independence to live and travel the way I always dreamed of. I did have to start from scratch though—deleting my old accounts tied to my real name and my face—and build an entirely new social media persona to promote my spicy page.
“Sylvester Sterling, that’s so noble of you,” I tease, tossing my phone aside on the bed. I’m not really sure how to handle this. Grace knows what I do, but she obviously doesn’t consume my content. This is the first time I’ve ever actually interacted with a sub, or anyone in person, who’s seen my work.
“Yeah, something like that.” He walks toward the door and grabs his tool bag.
“Well, if you end up having needs that need to be satisfied while you’re still in town…” He looks back at me and points at my phone. “Text me, or I don’t know, stop by the garage. It’s not hard to find me.”
With that, he walks out, leaving me questioning what I’ve gotten myself into for the second day in a row.
I’m a big girl.
I can keep this casual. I just need to remind myself that he’s the one who broke my heart. Any feelings he’s stirring up are only residual scar tissue flaring up from being so close to the source of those old wounds. They’re phantoms of a past that will stay in the past.
It’s perfectly reasonable to want to enjoy myself with someone who’s good at taking care of me, and get some closure along the way.
It’s the least he can do.
CHAPTER 26
SLY
Security System
Seventy-two.
It seems like just another insignificant number, like fifteen. I checked, and that’s the number of times I’ve worked on Mrs. Johansson’s minivan over the last five years for hitting that stupid pothole near the high school at Mach-way-too-fucking-fast.
Or twenty-five. That’s how many times Dad has popped his head in to check on me over the last three days at the garage. Even for him, that number seems high.
But no, I’m focused on seventy-two.
That’s how many hours it’s been since Josie caught me by the motel pool on Sunday. Since then, it seems like we’ve both had a one-track mind.
Did I make it a point to go by the motel yesterday and pretend to fix the ice machine outside of her room? Yeah.
Did she leave the door open after she popped outside and saw it was me? Yeah, she did.
She also texted Monday night when I was about to fall asleep after family dinner at the diner. I practically jumped out of bed when I saw that she was coming over. It was partly out of uncontrolled excitement and need, but also out of sheer terror because I knew I had only a few minutes to put on my prosthetic, pants, and sneakers before she would be knocking on my door.
My sister was onto something the other day because I am clearly going out of my way to not let Josie know about my leg. I know we’re having fun, and I don’t want to complicate or make it weirder or better. I don’t know… I just don’t want her to know, because right now, she still sees me as useful for something.
That’s how I ended up still here after the shop closed. At first, I was distracting myself by taking the hood off my car so I could send it to the body shop. They might be an hour away in Taos, but they’re the only ones I trust to fix it the way I want. When I saw the scratches left by her nipple piercings and buttons again the morning after that night in the garage, I had to laugh because that was the perfect reminder of what we did. Honestly, I like them.
Working on cars has always been the perfect distraction, even if there was a short period where doing it in this garage terrified me. Tonight, it’s keeping me from constantly checking my phone in hopes that she texts me or knocks on my door again.
I need any distraction I can get because seventy-two isn’t the only number running through my mind. I’m also counting down the hours until she leaves my life again next week. She still says she only wants to treat this as a meaningless casual fling. I told her I’ll respect those rules—but every bone in my body knows it’s a lie. I don’t know what to do because she’s right—I fucked up my chance with her years ago, and she’s leaving again. Just like the first time around, I’m not going to be selfish, and I won’t try to hold her back.
That doesn’t mean I’m not going to soak up every millisecond with her. I’m already picturing what I want to do next with her and the countless ways that I want to make her come. We haven’t even dived into her toy collection. Besides Octavius, I’ve seen her videos and know she has other fantasy dildos, plugs, grinders, and more. I have some fucking ideas that I would love to—
“Why are you still here?” Dad’s voice cuts across the garage, followed by the sharp clanging sound of the wrench I just dropped, skittering across the floor.
“That’s it!” I throw my hands up, marginally grateful that I didn’t hit my head on the underside of the van this time. I grab my phone from my work stand, open my shopping app, and click ‘add to cart’. “I’m actually buying you and Sisi matching fucking bells to wear since you two have no concept of boundaries or how to not sneak up on me.”
He chuckles to himself and sits on the stool beside me—out from under the mechanic’s lift.
I sigh in defeat, knowing that he’s making himself comfortable and not going anywhere soon. “Why are you here, Dad?”
