Page 4

4

DEX

“Yeah, that was a good one,” I said to my webcam, a satisfied smile on my face.

I scanned the flurry of comments in my chat. Most were people telling me how hot the show had been or demanding I show my feet.

“I’m not sure about selling content, Biglife,” I said, answering one of the few questions in the chat. That caused a bunch of people to ask why not and just as many to tell me exactly what kind of content they wanted me to make.

“I’ve got a lot going on right now,” I said, even though that wasn’t much of an answer. “I might get around to it when I have time, but for right now, I think these shows are about as much as I can handle.”

I’d only been camming for about three months, so my room was relatively empty now that I’d already come all over myself, which made it easier to actually chat with my audience.

I was still getting a handle on the whole camming thing and learning the ins and outs of the business side of it. I knew most models sold videos and photo sets on here for extra money, and had other platforms where people could buy content, but I hadn’t bothered with any of that.

I wasn’t planning on doing this for long, only until I had enough of a nest egg saved so I could drastically cut my work hours when I started school in the fall. I didn’t give a shit about people seeing my face on cam or any of the screenshots or recordings I knew were out there, but the thought of filming and selling jerk-off videos felt strange and made all of this seem too real.

It was stupid, but the fact that my shows were live and people tipped me in the moment made camming feel like a social thing. I chatted with my audience, they paid me, and I gave them what they wanted. It was transactional and personal, even though I was talking with faceless people on the internet.

Selling content was a way to make extra cash, but based on what I’d gleaned from other models in the industry, it wasn’t a great moneymaker if you weren’t a high earner with a large fan base. At best I’d make a few hundred bucks for a jerk-off video, but I made half that before I took my dick out while I was on cam, so it didn’t seem worth it for me.

“I’ll be back online on Saturday,” I said when I saw another question in the chat. “You can usually find me on here on Saturday and Wednesday starting at nine p.m. Eastern time.”

I scanned more comments, the last of the good feels from my orgasm fading away and leaving behind a weird sense of cold that seemed to come from deep within me—and not because I was naked.

This happened after every show. I had no clue why, but it was probably an adrenaline crash or something similar.

“No, I don’t have Twitter,” I said, not bothering to call it by its new name because the entire app was a place I avoided like the plague. “I’m not on any social media. If you want updates for when I’m online, you can subscribe to my room and get an email when I log on, or you can check out my monthly schedule in the photo gallery. Just click on the free photos option, and you’ll see it.” I paused as more chats scrolled by. Most were lewd comments, and a few were even lewder demands. It was time to log off.

“That’s all for me tonight.” I shot the camera another grin, making sure to keep my customer service face on. “Thanks for hanging out with me, and I’ll see you on Saturday at nine Eastern time.”

I waited a few seconds so my regulars could say goodbye in the chat, making sure to say goodbye to my big tippers, then logged out of my room and shut my laptop down with a weary sigh.

Tonight had been a good night for tips, and I’d made way more than my last show, but after almost forty minutes of edging myself to max out the tips, I was exhausted, and my dick wasn’t very happy with me.

Plucking my backward ball cap off, I tossed it on my desk and stood so I could take a shower and wash off not only the remnants of my show but also my day.

Not bothering with clothes, I made the quick trek to the bathroom naked. I’d spent the past eight years living with other people, and I loved the freedom of being able to walk around my apartment in the nude without having to worry about who might see me.

This was the first time since I was fifteen that I had my own space, and I’d rather eat glass than give it up and go back to living with a roommate.

Going from being an only child until I was fifteen to gaining a stepsibling and five half siblings in the span of six years hadn’t been an easy adjustment, and I’d craved my independence—and my space—ever since.

I finally had both, but I still held the irrational fear that they’d somehow be taken away from me and I’d end up right back where I was at eighteen when I left for college with nothing more than a dream and a scholarship.

Shaking my head, I stuck my hand under the spray to test the water.

I always got a little melancholy and introspective after a show. I had no clue why, but like the bone-deep cold thing, it wasn’t a big deal. Probably just another part of the adrenaline crash or whatever. It usually passed as soon as I got into a shower and had a chance to warm up and relax.

The water wasn’t quite at the right temperature yet, but I just cranked it a bit hotter and stepped into the tub, letting the water wash over me.

My apartment had a really nice bathroom, which was one of the main reasons I wanted to rent it. It had a huge soaker tub that could comfortably fit my six-foot frame and a fancy double shower head that was perfect for washing off a day at the gym. The fixtures were probably cheap but looked luxurious, and the focal point of the room was the sink. It was basically a slightly angled piece of stone that drained the water without anything spilling over, even though it seemed flat at first glance.

The rest of the apartment was pretty basic, but the building was in a good area, it was close to work, and it had all my utilities, a parking space, and a big storage locker included in my rent.

Since the building only had one- and two-bedroom apartments, most of the people who lived here were either young professionals or older people who kept to themselves, so it was quiet, which was a welcome change after so many years of living with other students.

The bedroom was a decent size with a big closet, and the den, which I was planning on using as my office when school started, had a big east-facing window that let in a ton of natural light. The kitchen was mid, but the appliances were only a few years old, and it had in-suite laundry, which was a rare find at this price point.

The other thing I loved about my apartment was the eclectic fireplace in the living room.

It was exactly the type of apartment I’d wanted when I decided to move home and continue my education at Rutherford instead of staying in the Midwest. Competition for places like this was high, but I’d lucked out and got accepted after my first application.

Tipping my head back, I closed my eyes and let the water soak into my hair. The one complaint I had about the building was that hot water didn’t last long, and I didn’t want to risk it running out before I had a chance to scrub myself clean.

When I was done, I shut off the water and grabbed a towel off the rack to dry off.

Since I hadn’t brought any clothes in with me, I wrapped the towel around my waist and hurried back into my room, the chilly air raising goosebumps on my skin as my mind spun with all the things I had to do in the next few days. Distracted, I pulled on a pair of sweats, some fuzzy socks, a tee, and an old hoodie.

Thursdays were my busiest day at work, and I still had a bunch of stuff I needed to do to prep for it. My first client came in at eight in the morning, and my last one was booked for seven at night. I also had to teach two group classes, fit in at least one workout on the floor, and spend a few hours behind the desk trying to convince people to sign up for personal training on top of the hours I had to spend with my clients.

Camming the night before wasn’t ideal, but Wednesdays were one of the best nights for tips after Saturday, at least for male cammers. Female cammers and couples did better on Fridays and Mondays, and they could usually find a decent audience during the week no matter what day it was.

That was the only downside to camming for me. Being male meant my audience was limited to women and queer men. Most people who used cam sites were straight men. Women tended to tip more, but there were far fewer of them, and they usually stuck to the same rooms, unlike men, who seemed to prefer room hopping.

One thing I’d learned over the past few months was that people liked consistency, and being online regularly helped boost your room in the algorithm, which helped with visibility. I’d seen a huge improvement in my numbers since I’d implemented my schedule, and I did my best to stick to it so I wouldn’t lose my momentum.

When I was dressed, I scooped my phone off my desk and took it off do not disturb. A few notifications came in, but only one of them caught my attention.

Asa had texted me twenty minutes ago.

What the hell?

I couldn’t remember the last time he’d texted me.

Before I could stop myself, I opened the thread.

Asa : can we talk?

I reread the short text and chewed on my lip. What could he possibly need to talk to me about?

I hadn’t seen him since Ruby’s birthday and hadn’t expected to see or hear from him until the next family event.

Curiously, I scrolled up to see when the last time we’d exchanged texts was. My neck and chest flushed when I saw the time stamp from four years ago, right after I’d gone back to school after Christmas break.

Not wanting to rehash that mess, I typed out an answer.

Dex : why?

He read the text so quickly he had to have been waiting for it.

Asa : are you going to be a dick about this?

Dex : depends on why you want to talk

Asa : I need to ask you something

Asa : please

I paused, my thumbs hovering over my keyboard. Whatever was going on sounded serious. He wasn’t the type to say please like that unless he really meant it. I might not like Asa, but he was still my stepbrother, and even though our parents treated him like shit, they’d never let me live it down if I blew him off and something happened to him.

Dex : I have some time now. Is this a text convo?

Asa : in person is better

Asa : there are too many variables for miscommunication over text

He wasn’t wrong about that. We had trouble communicating with each other when we could see body language and hear tone. Text would be a nightmare if this was serious.

Dex : do you want to come over? Or meet somewhere?

Asa : come over. This isn’t something I want to talk about in public

Dex : I’ll be up for the next hour. If you don’t get here by then, it’ll have to wait until tomorrow night

Asa : address?

I typed it out for him.

Asa : be there soon

I waited to see if he’d message again, then tucked my phone away when the screen went dark.

An unexpected visit from my stepbrother wasn’t how I wanted to spend the last hour of my already busy night, but at least it should be quick. Asa was a man of few words when he wasn’t being a sarcastic dick, and it wasn’t like we’d get distracted with chitchat.

I had no clue where he lived or how far away he was, but I went to work getting prepped for tomorrow while I waited.

Twenty minutes later, I buzzed him into the building. A weird sensation settled in my stomach as I waited for him to make his way to my apartment, and I was feeling weirdly off-kilter by the time I opened my door for him.

“You look like shit.”

He shot me a flat look. “Thanks,” he deadpanned.

I waved him inside. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean you look terrible.”

I’d never seen him like this, not in all the years I’d known him. Asa was the most stoic and closed-off person I knew. It didn’t matter what his mood was; he always looked unbothered and bored.

Something must have happened because his usually pale skin was chalk white, and he had dark circles under his eyes. His hair was more disheveled than usual, and his shoulders were stooped, like he had the weight of the world on them. He looked…defeated.

“That’s supposed to be better?” He arched one eyebrow and closed the door behind him.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“No, not sick.” He raked his hand through his hair, messing it up even more. “I’m just fucked.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you promise not to be a dick if I tell you something?” he asked wearily.

I nodded.

“And do you promise not to tell our parents?”

“Yeah, sure. What the hell is going on?”

I didn’t like seeing him like this. It wasn’t just weird, it was concerning, and I didn’t know what to do with the worry I felt for him.

“I’m kind of in a bind,” he mumbled, his gaze fixed on my shoulder.

“What kind of bind?”

“The kind where I got evicted, and I’m going to have to live in my car starting tomorrow.”

Of all the things he could have said, that would have been at the bottom of my list of possible subjects.

“What?” I asked, still reeling from that bombshell. “When? How?”

The corner of his mouth curled up in a small smirk as he slid his gaze to mine. “Two more and you’ve got all the W s and the H of questions covered.”

“Drop the sarcasm and tell me what the fuck happened.”

His smirk fell. “I got renovicted.”

I nodded slowly. He wouldn’t be the first person I’d known who’d gotten kicked out of their place for fake renovations that were just an excuse to jack up the rent. “When?”

“I got the letter three weeks ago. My deadline to get out is tomorrow.”

“Three weeks? How is that legal?”

“It’s not, but they dated the letter a week before they taped it to my door, so they technically gave me thirty days. They just neglected to tell me about it for the first seven of them.”

“Jesus. Have you talked to a lawyer?”

“Right, because I have hundreds of bucks laying around to spend on legal advice.” He snort-laughed. “That’s why I lived in that craphole, not because I’m broke as fuck and it was all I could find in my price range.”

I stopped myself from reminding him my dad was a lawyer. It wasn’t like that was news to him. “Why are you telling me this?” I asked instead. He usually did everything in his power to keep me out of his business. Why had he purposely sought me out to tell me this?

“Because I have no one else to go to.” He looked away, his eyes suspiciously shiny. “I asked my dad if I could stay with him, and he said no. I can’t ask Mom and your dad?—”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t.” His eyes flashed with anger as he met my gaze again. “You know how they are. Do you think they’d ever let me live this down? Do you honestly believe that my mom wouldn’t use this against me for the rest of my life? Or that your dad wouldn’t charge me rent and present me with an itemized bill to repay them for their generosity when I left?”

“No, they definitely would do that,” I conceded. “What about your friends? Can’t you couch surf or crash in someone’s spare room?”

He snorted, only this one wasn’t an attempt at a laugh and sounded derisive. “What friends? I’d have to have those in order to ask them.”

Asa had always been a loner who preferred to spend his time reading or writing. It wasn’t inconceivable that he wouldn’t have anyone he could crash with.

“We both know I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t desperate.” He dropped his gaze to the floor. “I just… I don’t have anyone else I can ask for help.”

I sighed and raked a hand through my hair. I wanted to tell him that his issues weren’t my problem and he should talk to our parents, but I couldn’t get the words out.

I didn’t like him, and we clashed like oil and water, but I couldn’t turn him away. Not when his only other option was homelessness. And even without my stupid empathy, our parents would kill me if they found out I’d let him sleep in his car after he’d come to me for help.

“How long do you think it’ll take to find a place?” I asked, my tone as resigned as the rest of me.

He shot me a surprised look, but under that shock was something I couldn’t quite place. It almost looked like hope, or maybe it was just relief. Asa was hard to read, even after all these years of dealing with him. “Not sure. Maybe a month, hopefully less.”

“Do you have any leads?”

“I’ve applied to every place I can find in my price range.” He chewed on his lower lip. “I’m still looking, but everything is so damn expensive that’s not a long list of places.”

“What’s your price range?”

I internally groaned at the number he told me. A few years ago, that would have been enough for a one-bedroom in a decent area. Now it was barely enough to cover a studio on the outskirts of town.

I had no idea how much Asa made as a mechanic, but from what I remembered, he’d only finished his apprenticeship sometime in the last year. He was probably making a lot less than his coworkers based on his experience and time in the trade.

I huffed out another deep sigh. This was a colossally bad idea, and it would be beyond inconvenient as fuck, but it wasn’t like I had a choice.

“You’ll have to sleep in the den,” I said after a pause. I really didn’t want to lose my office, but I’d rather have him in there than on my couch. At least there’d be some separation between us if he was in the den.

His eyes widened. “Yeah, sure. That’s fine.”

“It doesn’t have a door,” I warned him. “And it’s small. You’ll have to use my camping mattress if you don’t have a single bed to move in, because it won’t fit anything bigger.”

“A camping mattress is fine,” he said quickly.

“You said your eviction goes into effect tomorrow?”

He nodded.

“Come on, I’ll give you a quick tour.” I waved for him to follow me. “That’s the kitchen.” I paused so he could poke his head through the door to check it out. “That’s the living room.” I motioned to the open space as Asa’s eyes darted around the room, pausing on the fireplace.

“This room is bigger than my old apartment,” he mused.

I waited for him to make a disparaging remark about me or the room, but he just gave me an expectant look and waited for me to continue my tour.

We walked down the small hallway off the communal rooms and stopped in front of the bathroom.

“I’m assuming this one is self-explanatory,” I said, waiting for him to toss a few barbs or thinly veiled insults when he saw it.

He peeked inside the bathroom. “Jesus, this is fancy,” he exclaimed, his eyes as round as saucers as he looked around the space. “What the fuck is with that sink?”

“Crazy, isn’t it?” I grinned at his gobsmacked expression.

“How do you not make a mess every time you use it?”

“It drains quicker than it fills. It’s a bit of a mind fuck the first few times, but you get used to it.”

I waited as he scoped out the room for a few more beats, then pulled open the door to the room directly next to it. “Laundry,” I said unnecessarily.

His eyes widened again, but he didn’t say anything.

“That’s my room.” I pointed at my door. “Next to it is the closet. The den is here.”

We stopped in front of the small space across from my room and tucked into the far end of the apartment.

The den was really more of a bonus room and was barely big enough to fit a single bed and a dresser. I hadn’t gotten around to furnishing it yet, so the space was empty.

“Is your landlord the type to give you the whole day to get your shit out, or is this the type of situation where your stuff is going to be on the sidewalk by nine a.m.?” I asked as he studied the small room.

“Stuff on the sidewalk by nine,” he said, his tone as defeated as the stoop of his shoulders. “Or eight, according to the letter.”

“I have to leave for work early tomorrow, and I won’t be back until late. I can give you my spare key and the code to get into the building, but I can’t help you move your shit. You’ll have to figure that out on your own.”

“Not a problem,” he said quickly.

“Come on. I’ll get you the spare key.”

He followed me into the kitchen and waited as I dug around in my junk drawer.

“The code to get in is 310790.” I pressed the key into his waiting hand. “If the super asks why you’re moving stuff into my apartment, tell him you’re dropping it off for me. I doubt he’ll notice, but if he figures out that you’re staying here and asks you about it, tell him you’re my stepbrother and you’re visiting for two weeks.”

“Why two weeks?”

“Because any more than that and I’ll have to pay extra for my utilities.”

He chewed on his lip and nodded.

“A few house rules because I’m not going to be here when you’re moving your stuff in,” I said, getting back to business. “Stay the fuck out of my room, and don’t mess with my stuff. The hot water tank takes forever to refill, so try to keep your showers under twenty minutes, or you’ll get blasted with cold water.

“Stick to the guest parking areas, but try to move between the front and back lot if you can so it’s harder to track how often your car is here. It might be worth parking on the street every once in a while too. And use the back entrance. It’ll be easier to hide your comings and goings. We’ll figure out splitting up the kitchen later. Just remember what’s yours until we get that sorted. Keep what you want in the bathroom, but don’t be a slob about it.” I paused, racking my brain as I tried to think of anything else he needed to know now.

“I’ll dig my camping mattress out and put it in the den tonight so it’ll be ready for you tomorrow. I think that’s it for now,” I said when nothing else came to me. “Questions?”

He shook his head.

“I guess I’ll see you after work tomorrow?” I said lamely, not sure how to end the conversation.

“Tomorrow.” He shot me a small smile. “Thanks.”

I shrugged and followed him to the door. “Remember this if I ever have to ask you a favor.”

He cracked a small smile, and we stood there for a few beats, staring at each other. It felt like there was more to say, but nothing came to mind.

“Have a good day tomorrow.” He shot me another small smile and pulled the door open.

“You too,” I said as he slipped out into the hall.

When he was gone, I trudged back into the kitchen to finish packing my food for tomorrow.

I’d just agreed to let Asa stay with me after spending the last four years actively avoiding him. Hopefully my generosity didn’t come back to bite me in the ass.