What I Wouldn't Do (Hunter Hayes - Rated R)

Rainy Season

"The air's getting heavy, and we both know why. So dance one more dance, and tell one more lie. Baby, let's keep make believing it's just the rainy season." 

Hunter put everything he had into the song, feeling every word as strongly as he could. He needed his music to take off now more than ever. He couldn't let Frankie keep prostituting herself to support him. He needed this to work out, and quickly. He hated knowing what she had to go through every day. He hated coming home and knowing why she looked so tired, seeing the crack in her smile, the chink her armor. She was so strong, but it took a toll on her. 

When he was done in the studio, he went to the park. He couldn't go home yet. She was probably still with one of her "customers." He shivered, thinking about it. It was getting harder and harder to touch her, knowing how many hands had done the same. It was torture to kiss her, knowing that was the only thing he could do that nobody else could. She tasted like defeat; she felt like regret. He almost couldn't handle it. 

It had been nearly a month since she'd picked it up again. As much as he tried not to let it, he could feel the gap between them opening. She was rigid in his arms when he held her at night. She was crying a lot, but she never let him see it. 

He thought back on how they'd met, and shuddered to think that something like that could happen again, with someone else. It had been so special for both of them, but despite her reassurances, he couldn't help but be nervous. If it could happen once, it could happen again.

*Several months ago*

He was in a part of town he'd never been to, and it was late. It was very, very late. Ladies lined the street, wearing stripper heels and barely-there tops and tiny little denim skirts. He couldn't believe what was happening here. How long had this been going on?

Traffic was jammed, and he heard a tap on his window. Behind it was a girl, about three inches shorter than him, with the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, though they wore an expression of guilt and regret. He rolled down his window and she leaned over alluringly, showing her nearly-bare chest. 

"Can I help you?" he asked, thinking that she really was very beautiful. Why did she do what she was doing?

"I was thinking I could help you, stranger," she said, running her hand over his chest. 

"Um..." he stammered, feeling himself grow against his will. "I don't really do that sort of thing."

She laughed. "That's what they all say, honey." He noticed how her eyes didn't light up at all with her laugh. It made his heart ache for her, this beautiful stranger who looked capable of so much life, but seemed so dead. "But, listen, I'm new, so I have a lower rate than the others. Take me home, and you're sure to get the deal of  your life." She leaned forward and whispered it in his ear.

She was very good, he'd give her that. She licked his ear, and he was done. "Get in." 

Hunter snapped out of his flashback before it was over, because his watch was beeping. It was 6 o'clock. It should be safe for him to return home now. He sighed, getting up and heading back to his car, ignoring the carnal images rolling around his brain. How many had she done today? Yesterday? This month? 

When he got home, he placed his car keys in the bowl by the door and listened for any erroneous sounds. He heard her in the bedroom, rustling around on the bed. He went in that direction, and stopped in the doorway to peer inside. She was there, dressed in her bathrobe and covered with the sheets and comforter, the phone pressed to her ear.

"Yes, like that. Keep going. I'm there; I'm doing it for you. That's right, baby. You're so close." She spoke into the receiver, and then covered the phone to mouth "Just one second" to Hunter. 

He moved out of the doorway, leaving her to her customer. When had she started doing it over the phone? This was just escalating, when he wanted so badly for it to stop completely. 

He did something he barely ever did: he sat down in front of the TV with a beer in his hand. Half of it was gone before he heard her come out of the bedroom. It used to be that when he sat in this chair, she'd come over and curl up in his lap, and distract him until he couldn't watch TV anymore. Now, she just perched on the side of the chair as though she were afraid to touch him, and ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly, but reluctantly.

"How was your day?" she asked, and he looked up at her. 

"It was all right." He thought about asking her how hers was, but the look on her face made the question die on his lips. 

They sat there in unfamiliar silence for a while, her hand still resting on his head. She got up suddenly and began to move away, but he caught her hand and brought her back, pulling her into his lap. 

He nuzzled into her neck, finding her favorite spot and licking it, pretending it was just a normal day. He kissed her lips, and felt her reluctance. He could taste her self-deprecation, but he was going to force it away if it was the last thing he did. 

He kept on, acting as though there weren't a million other men between them. Pretending there wasn't a hole opening, pretending he was able to give her the freedom to stop what he knew she detested doing. 

Someday soon, you'll be able to stop. We will be able to forget about all of this, and you won't have to sacrifice yourself for me anymore. It's just the rainy season. You'll see.

New chapter! This is very different than most Hunter stories, I know. Well, mostly because it's dirty and because it's about a prostitute, so yeah...but tell me what you think! 

Thanks for reading!