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He jerks his gaze away and presses his mouth flat.
Okay, then.
He’s slow, way slower than me, and getting drenched isn’t my favorite pastime, so I open my mouth to ask if he could hurry up a little, when I realize he’s still shivering despite the jacket, and his steps look a bit unsteady.
Fuck.
So I slow down, too, keeping an eye on him as he mulishly plods on. He seems to be running on fumes and sheer will, and it’s a shock to see him wrapped up in my own leather jacket. It fits his wide shoulders well, although it flaps around his middle.
Guy’s too skinny. Needs to eat more.
And it has nothing to do with me. I’m just going to put some hot coffee into him so that he doesn’t die of hypothermia, and then I need to get to fucking work, and field Ocean’s inevitable questions.
No idea why I give a shit, in fact.
Apart from the fact this is the guy starring in my wet dreams. But that’s a fantasy, nothing more.
Besides, my brother and Jesse Lee are helping him, I know this for a fact, slipping him money every month. So why can’t he find a normal job and stay off the streets, huh? I just don’t get it.
After what feels like hours, we reach the coffee shop, and I step inside first, holding the door for him. He doesn’t comment on it, his face pale. He staggers as he climbs inside the shop, and I grab his arm to steady him.
He pulls it free with a half-snarl, and steps back until his backside hits an empty table. “We’re here now,” he hisses. “You wanna talk business with me, talk. But don’t think for a fucking second you’re getting a discount.”
It takes a moment for his words to sink in, and then I see red.
“I don’t want anything from you,” I hiss right back. “Dammit, I should have left you out in the cold.”
One side of his mouth lifts in another of those sharp smirks. “But you didn’t. Question is, why?”
Shit, what was I thinking?
“Sit down,” I snap and stride away to get him his damn coffee.
Then I’m grabbing my jacket back and getting my ass out of here.
Chapter Four
Jason
Inside the coffee shop the air is so warm I can’t breathe, and black edges my vision. I’m glad when Raine storms off to get the coffee so that I can sag against the table I crashed into and close my eyes. Gather my wits. Wait for the room to stop spinning.
I suck deep lungfuls of air, and with it comes the smell of food. It smells good. Delicious. My stomach grumbles and twists painfully, reminding me it’s been empty a while.
Wrapping an arm around me, I grit my teeth and wait the cramp out. The coffee will set me right, fool my stomach into thinking it’s full. And it will warm me up. Despite the jacket and the warm air, I feel chilled to my bones.
And then I remember what I was really brought here for, and my stomach twists again, for a different reason this time.
Work. Of course, what else would you take a hooker to a coffee shop for?
Sex with Raine. Oh, I’ve imagined it. His hands on me, his mouth… his dick.
Jesus. This ain’t good for me, being here, so close to him. He’s a spoiled brat, a good boy, a handsome man, and my defenses are low. This is business, nothing more. That’s all there is to it, even if it’s not every day a handsome guy, a guy you desire, requires your services. Wanting more is a recipe for disaster.
Letting out a dark chuckle, I rub my hand over the soft leather of his jacket. It smells of him. And I’m an idiot. Wanting more? I don’t want more. I can’t want more. This is my life, this is me. This is all there is.
By the time Raine returns with a tray, I’m mostly back under control, not shivering like before, or even laughing manically. I’m calm. Ready. I’ve managed to slide off the table and sit in one of the heavy iron chairs, although I’m still wondering why nobody has come to kick me out.
Normally I’d not be let inside a place like this. Not that it’s fancy or anything, but if I don’t look like a bum on a given day, I look like a hooker, and neither is acceptable. So maybe it’s the heavy leather jacket that makes me look more respectable? The lack of glitter on my face that’s been washed clean by the rain? Or his presence looming over me?
