Page 37 of Role Play (Off the Books #1)
I stare at him, still genuinely surprised. In the three years we’ve lived together, I’ve never suspected Taio harbored a secret romance-novel addiction. But I’m starting to think there’s a lot I don’t know about my friends.
Saylor holds up a book depicting a menacing-looking octopus with a maiden in its clutches. “And how is reading books about tentacles going into places tentacles should never go, going to help your girl?”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” Taio says with a wink. “Some of the freakiest shit I’ve done was with the most buttoned-up clients. That corporate lawyer from last month? The one with the pearls and sensible pumps?”
“What about her?” Saylor asks, leaning in.
“Let’s just say she had very specific instructions involving a ruler, hot wax, and a pair of dice.”
“All right,” I say loudly, checking my watch. “Let’s wrap this up. I’m going to get a few of these for reference.”
After some deliberation, I select six books spanning different subgenres—recommendations from both Taio and our bookstore clerk, Anna, who seems to have forgiven me for the “girlfriend” revelation. The total makes me wince, but I remind myself it’s an investment in my arrangement with Sora.
“So,” Saylor says as we head for the exit, shopping bag in hand, “when do we get to meet this conch shell girl? I’m dying to see who’s got you all twisted up.”
“You don’t,” I say firmly. “The last thing Sora needs is you two jackasses embarrassing me.”
“Us? Embarrass you?” Taio fakes an innocent expression. “Never.”
“I will literally pay you both to stay away from her,” I threaten as we step onto the crowded sidewalk.
“Now, now,” Taio tuts. “Is that any way to treat your support system? Your research assistants? Your?—”
“Pains in my ass?” I finish for him.
“I was going to say ‘voices of reason,’ but sure, that works too.”
As we make our way toward the subway, my phone buzzes with a text. I pull it out to find a message from Sora. It’s a picture of a wall with three different paint swatches—various shades of purple.
Sora:
I’m debating painting Dakota’s room. I know you said she likes purple, but which shade?
Me:
The middle one. But you don’t have to do all that.
Sora:
I want to! These walls are so bland. I want her to feel at home and love her room. We should get her a new bed set too. Does she like Disney princesses?
Me:
She’s obsessed.
Something in my chest squeezes tight. The thought of Sora planning for my daughter’s comfort, wanting to make the brownstone feel like home for her… It hits me in a place I didn’t know was so fragile.
“That her?” Taio asks, catching the look on my face.
“Maybe,” I hedge, typing a quick reply.
Me:
Send me the swatch number. I’ll pick up the paint and supplies and meet you at the brownstone. Give me a few hours.
Sora:
You sure? I don’t want to ruin your weekend plans.
Me:
I’m sure.
Her response comes almost immediately.
Sora:
Okay, great. It’s a date.
I jump back into my friends’ conversation to hear Taio bellyaching about the cold.
“Cheapass,” Taio mutters as we wait for the downtown train. “Saylor would rather have us sporting dicksickles because he’s too stubborn to just pay for an Uber.”
“Cab fare adds up. I don’t mind the train,” Saylor says.
“Couldn’t agree more.” I shrug, scrolling through Sora’s messages one more time.
“Hey, know where it’s warm? Vegas. We should fly out there this weekend for Hawk’s bachelor party…since he’s apparently getting married and all.”
“ Not Vegas . Do not bring up Vegas,” Saylor warns, pointing an accusatory finger. “We agreed never to speak of Vegas.”
Oh, city of sin. Two years ago when Saylor’s mom needed a medical procedure her insurance wouldn’t cover, we booked a celebrity’s bachelorette party.
All three of us were hired as high-end escorts for the entire weekend.
It should’ve been an easy cash-grab. More than enough to help Saylor’s mom, except we never made it to the party.
We unknowingly took a cab ride with a drug smuggler and got caught up in a major drug bust. Rina nearly had to fly down to Vegas herself to bail us out.
“Three days,” Taio reminds us. “Three days of actual work we missed because we were in jail for something we didn’t even do. Rina was livid.”
“The casino footage cleared us eventually,” I point out. “And didn’t you salvage the weekend with that cute girl who carried a Yorkie in her purse at all times?” I ask Saylor.
“Yeah, but after we missed out on fifty grand in bookings,” he grumbles. “That’s the problem with this job, mate. The money’s good when you can actually work, but the second your cock’s not available for hire, you’re broke.”
“That’s why I rarely take time off to date,” Taio says, leaning against a grimy pillar. “Can’t afford it. Why waste time buying dinner for some girl who might not even put out when I can get paid for the same time investment with a sure thing?”
“There’s a difference between a work fuck and a fun fuck,” Saylor argues. “You honestly need both to keep your sanity, mate. When’s the last time you actually got laid for fun, Ty? And enjoyed it?”
Taio goes quiet, which is answer enough.
“That’s what I thought. All these jokes about being a ladies’ man, but all you’re getting is the professional shag. That’s not living.”
“You’re finding time for all that?” Taio asks. “Lately, I just don’t see the point in casual sex outside of work. A relationship? Sure. If you find a girl who is okay with what we do and will stick with you despite it, please, clone her, or introduce us to her like-minded friends.”
“That woman doesn’t exist,” Saylor says, suddenly serious. “It’s this job, or love. One or the other.”
The train rumbles into the station, screeching against the rails, but I barely notice. Saylor’s words hit too close to home.
“This is why I’m worried about you,” Taio says quietly as we board the nearly empty car.
“This thing with Sora…it’s different. I get that.
But how does this work? You’re about to be roommates.
You still have to work and make money, Hawk.
Are you going to ask Sora to babysit Koda while you sneak out at night for a different client?
How long do you think she’ll put up with that before she kicks your ass out because of jealousy? ”
I stay silent because I don’t have an answer for that. All I can hope is that Sora doesn’t feel about me the way I’m starting to feel about her. We’ll both have to stay focused on the end goal of our arrangement.
She’s saving my ass, putting up me and my daughter amidst Hannah’s disastrous decision. The least I can do is put everything I have into helping Sora the best I can.
As the train lurches forward, carrying us back toward home, I find myself making a silent promise. Looking at the shopping bag of romance novels in my lap, thinking of Sora’s books nowhere to be found on those shelves, I make a decision.
Someday, I’m going to walk into that bookstore—or one just like it—and see Sora’s name on those shelves. Her books front-facing, multiple copies, pride of place. I’m going to help her make that happen, whatever it takes.
Even if it means breaking every rule in the unwritten escort handbook. Even if it means risking my heart in the process.
Because Sora deserves to be seen.
Perhaps I want to be seen too—not as the fantasy I sell, but by someone who accepts me for the man I am. I won’t be an escort forever. It’s a means to an end for now.
I think of the dedication Sora wrote me in her book Lovely .
Cheers to the journey.
Maybe she’s different…maybe she doesn’t mind a journey if the end destination is something real.