Page 97 of Boyfriend of the Hour

“Yeah, but I bet others weren’t. No offense, baby, but you weren’t the only girl Shawn fucked with.”

The sick feeling in my stomach grew. I couldn’t argue with that. I didn’t even want to anymore.

And yet he still held me hostage. I’d accepted that he always would.

Didn’t mean I liked it.

I closed my eyes and saw Nathan’s face. The confusion that crinkled his brow when he learned the basics of my story with Shawn.

The shame that clouded my vision and made me sick every time I imagined telling him the rest.

No, he would never know.

No one else would.

I’d take that shit to my grave, no matter the cost.

“Well, what does he want?” Rochelle asked.

That wasn’t so easy.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “He sat down, had a drink. Gave me some shit for disappearing for a few months?—”

“When he ghosted you after your surgery,” Rochelle added while she applied some silvery eyeshadow.

“After that, yeah. Then he and Nathan got into a weird sparring match over paying for his drink, and then he left.”

Rochelle stopped with only one eye done. “Wait, your sexy roommate was there too?”

“Um, yeah. Except now he’s sort of my boyfriend. I guess.”

What should have felt good to say out loud instead just felt dirty. It was one thing to play a part for Nathan’s family and coworkers, for stuck-up people I didn’t even know. It was another thing completely to lie to my closest friend.

“I knew he wanted that ass!” Rochelle crowed. “I knew it wasn’t just him being a ‘nice guy.’” She shook her head. “Rich men don’t help pretty girls for nothing. So, I hope you’re being careful.”

I sighed. “It’s really not like that. We haven’t even…you know. Just a couple of kisses.”

I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to reveal the whole arrangement, partly so she wouldn’t think he was a dog just like everyone else, but partly to get some perspective on the cloudy hotness that had occurred in the department store. How could something that was just pretend feel so confusingly real?

But I couldn’t. Because the agreement was between me and Nathan, who was literally saving my ass. I couldn’t betray him like that. Not even to my best friend.

Besides, for the plan to work for both of us, I needed her to spread the word. And Rochelle was a very dependable gossip.

“Well, if Shawn does come by here, you can tell him, or any of his friends, that I’m not available anymore,” I said.

It had worked for her, once upon a time. Back in high school, Rochelle and I had both been tied up with Shawn and hisfriends. We were the young girl arm candy they took to Yankees games and parties and too many places sixteen-year-olds had no business being.

Then she met Carmine, and we found out how those men felt about used goods. They lost interest in Rochelle completely. And she’d never looked back.

I prayed it would work the same for me.

“If Shawn shows up here, I’d probably nail his dick to the door before asking the bouncer to throw him out,” Rochelle replied as she went back to doing my other eye. “But I’m happy for you,mami. Just be careful, all right?”

I nodded. “Always. All right, fit check.”

I stood up and looked myself over in the mirror. I’d done my hair and makeup in essentially the same look I used as a go-go dancer—dark eyes, false lashes, overlined lips, and heavy contouring, all with stage makeup that was impervious to sweat. Not bad. I wasn’t much for the caterpillar lash up close, but it would look good under the dimmed lighting of the strip club.

The look wasn’t quite on par with the elaborate outfits the other girls were currently putting on, but Rochelle had assured me that the mesh tunic over my skimpiest bikini was more than appropriate, especially when paired with the mammoth heels called Teasers, she was lending me until I could buy my own. So long as I could move and flirt, I was good to go.