Page 66 of Role Play (Off the Books #1)
“But,” she continues, still glaring at me, “one night changed my entire perspective on life. I was inspired to change people’s understanding of what being an escort means.
It’s not all about sex. It’s about connecting and companionship.
Sometimes you need the right person, at the right time, to pull you out of a rut you didn’t even know you were in.
I like the idea of giving people an opportunity, even if it’s just for a night, to be valued, cared for, loved, protected, fought for…
It’s sad there are so many women out there who need that fabricated because the men in their real lives are so severely lacking.
But nonetheless, while it’s fleeting, it doesn’t mean it’s not real.
Even a momentary feeling can inspire big change. ”
“So, you mean you didn’t sleep with that escort? You just talked?”
She levels her gaze, face completely straight. “No, Hawkins. I rode the hell out of him. All night. Then, the morning after.”
“ Dammit , Rina.” I cup my hands over my ears like a child, so I can watch her fall into a giggling fit.
“Sorry,” she says through breathy laughter. “My point is, one person changed my entire life for the better, even if he did end up breaking my heart. So, if this young lady is somebody worth changing your life for—do it.”
“But you said he broke your heart…your guy.” I watch the last flicker of humor disappear from her eyes as she’s taken over by something a bit darker.
She nods. “Because I couldn’t keep him. That’s all.”
“What was his name?”
“Dalton,” she answers simply, back to tight-lipped Rina when it comes to her personal life.
“You lose yourself helping everybody else. Dakota, Hannah, your dad, and now Sora. You’re selfless to your detriment.
But I see the man you could be if you weren’t constantly scrambling to keep your head above water.
” She gestures to the folder. “Consider this an investment in that man.”
My throat tightens with emotion I can’t quite name. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll be smart about this. That you’ll use this to set yourself up for something great.” Her expression grows stern. “And then say you’ll definitely pay me back.”
A laugh escapes me, half relief, half disbelief. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told.” She picks up her whisky again. “Now, about this Sora. Tell me everything.”
I finally reach for my own glass, taking a grateful sip.
“She’s nothing like anyone I’ve ever met.
Brilliant, funny, completely neurotic in the best possible way.
She writes these romance novels that she thinks aren’t good enough, but they’re actually amazing—full of heart and humor and these characters that feel so real you forget they’re made up. ”
“And she’s completely upended your life in what, two weeks?” Rina’s tone is teasing, but her eyes are kind.
“Two months.” Although truthfully? Two minutes. I knew from the moment she narrowed her eyes at me in Papa Beans that this woman was going to star in my dreams for the foreseeable future. “It sounds crazy, I know.”
“Not crazy.” Rina swirls the amber liquid in her glass. “Inconvenient, certainly. Potentially foolhardy. But not crazy.”
“That’s reassuring,” I say dryly.
“She must be quite special for you to risk everything.”
“She is.” The certainty in my voice surprises even me.
Rina studies me for a long moment, then nods as if confirming something to herself. “Well then. I suppose there’s only one question left.”
“What’s that?”
“Does she feel the same way about you?”
The question drenches me like a bucket of ice water. In my rush to make this grand gesture, to reshape my entire life around the possibility of a future with Sora, I haven’t actually confirmed that she wants that future too.
“I…I think so,” I stammer. “We haven’t exactly had that conversation yet.”
Rina’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’re quitting your job before telling this woman how you feel about her?”
Put that way, it does sound monumentally stupid. “I was going to tell her tonight. After I talked to you.”
“Good lord.” She rubs her temples. “You really are a romantic at heart, aren’t you? No wonder you’re so good at your job.” She catches herself. “ Former job .”
I groan, burying my face in my hands. “This is too much, too fast, isn’t it? She’s going to think I’ve lost my damn mind.”
“Probably.” Rina shrugs. “But sometimes the grand gesture pays off. Just…” She hesitates, an unusual occurrence for her. “Be prepared for the possibility that she might need time to process all this. It’s a lot.”
I nod, suddenly nervous in a way I haven’t been since my first day at Columbia Law. “Any advice?”
“Be honest. All cards on the table.” She sets her empty glass aside. “And maybe lead with ‘I’m falling in love with you’ before ‘I just quit my job and took out a massive loan so we could be together.’”
Despite everything, I laugh. “Noted.”
Rina stands, signaling the end of our conversation. “Keep me updated. And if it doesn’t work out…” She gives me a pointed look. “You always have a place here. No shame in that.”
I rise too, clutching the folder of loan papers. “Thank you. For everything.”
Impulsively, I step forward and hug her. She stiffens initially—Rina isn’t exactly the hugging type—but after a moment, her arms come around me briefly before she steps back.
“Enough sentimentality for one night.” She straightens her silk pajama top. “Go get your girl, Hawkins.”
As I step back into the cool night air minutes later, the weight that has been pressing on my chest for weeks—maybe years—feels lighter.
The path ahead is uncertain, fraught with financial challenges and the terrifying possibility of rejection.
But for the first time since Columbia Law, since Dakota was born, since Hannah dumped me, I feel like I’m making a choice rather than reacting to circumstances beyond my control.
I pull out my phone, turn it back on, and call an Uber. It’s time to tell Sora the truth—all of it. Time to find out if the future I suddenly want more than anything is one she wants too.
The brownstone is eerily quiet as I slip through the front door. It’s well past midnight, and exhaustion weighs on my bones after the emotional conversation with Rina. But there’s one more thing I need to do tonight—one conversation I can’t wait until morning to have.
I creep up the stairs, avoiding the third step that creaks like it’s auditioning for a horror movie soundtrack. The house is dark except for a sliver of light coming from the fourth floor—Sora’s bedroom. She’s still awake.
My heart rises and falls in my chest like it’s riding a roller coaster as I approach her door. I’ve spent years perfecting the art of charming women, knowing exactly what to say and how to say it, but right now, I feel like an awkward teenager about to ask someone to prom.
I knock softly, then turn the knob.
“ Aaaahh !” Sora yelps, brandishing a stainless-steel water bottle like a baseball bat.
She’s cross-legged on her bed, laptop balanced precariously on her knees, hair piled in a messy bun that’s tilting precariously to one side.
She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt with the words “I like big books and I cannot lie” stretched across her chest. “Christ, Forrest! You scared the crap out of me!”
I can’t help but smile at the sight of her—future bestselling author Sora Cho, armed with hydration to defend herself against home invaders.
“Planning to drown the burglars?” I nod at her weapon of choice.
She lowers the water bottle, her cheeks flushing adorably. “It was the closest thing at hand, you lurker. And what are you doing here? I didn’t expect you until…you know, morning.”
There’s a shadow behind her words, a careful distance in the way she’s looking at me. She thinks I’ve just come from another woman’s bed.
“Were you really going to fight off an intruder with that?” I ask, deflecting for a moment as I close the door behind me.
“This thing is solid steel and holds forty ounces of ice water. I could do some damage.” She lifts her chin defiantly. “I’ve seen enough crime shows. Go for the kneecaps, then the groin, then run.”
“Solid strategy. But maybe invest in a baseball bat. Or pepper spray. Or literally anything designed to be a weapon.”
“Noted. I’ll add ‘instruments of self-defense’ to my shopping list, right below ‘milk’ and ‘sanity.’” She sets the water bottle on her nightstand with exaggerated care. “So…why are you home so early?”
“Early?” I ask, knowing it’s almost one in the morning.
“I assumed I wouldn’t see you until morning. Dakota and I made pancake plans. We were going to save some for you.”
“That’s sweet.” I perch on the edge of her bed, suddenly very interested in the pattern of her comforter. “What are you working on so late?” I ask, nodding at her laptop.
She eyes me suspiciously but allows the subject change. “Edits for Legendary .”
“ Legendary ? New book?”
“The new title for the reworked version of Lonely .” A small, genuine smile lights up her face. “My dad stopped by unannounced tonight.”
“Your dad?” I straighten up, surprised. “J.P. Cooper himself descended from his literary throne to visit the peasants?”
She swats at my arm. “Be nice. It was good. Incredible , actually. We talked—like, really talked—for the first time in…maybe ever. He read my book.”
My heart shudders. But she’s smiling, so it can’t have been that bad. “And?”
“And he liked it.” Her voice is soft with wonder. “So much so, he’s going to help me with book two, just so I get it exactly right.”
“You trust his opinion when it comes to a romance story like this?”
She smiles at me, secrets safeguarded behind her closed lips. “More than you know.”
“Then that’s wonderful. I’m very happy for you. I know how much your parents mean to you.” There’s too much distance between us, an entire queen-sized bed’s worth, so I blow her a kiss. I bet she doesn’t want me to touch her right now.