The Rent Boy (EDITING)

Chapter Fifteen: Tricks and Apologies-

    With my elbows propped up on my knees, I placed my hands at the top of my head and dragged them down my face, resting the tips of my fingers beneath my chin as I stared at myself in the mirror, opposite me on the wall.

    My shirt, unbuttoned all the way down, exposed my stomach down to my waist. The rest of me was covered up. I grew fascinated with the way my chest expanded each time I took a breath in. I didn't know how long it had been until my eyes shifted to the sleeping figure behind me, laying in the bed I was perched on the end of.

    Kyle's plan? Well, it wasn't actually anything out of the ordinary. It was only made slightly more intimidating by the fact that he was sending me off to that rich bloke, again. If I remembered correctly, his name was Nate? He was slightly more rough this time, I had to try hard not to show my discomfort.

    Usually, I'd leave right about now, or I would have left quite a while back since I hated hanging around, but he hadn't paid me yet. I had contemplated waking him up for the past forty minutes, but couldn't seem to work up the courage.

    So instead, I was sitting there studying myself in the mirror. I was pretty unsightly. Blue under the eyes from stress and lack of sleep, which didn't suit the seventeen years I'd been alive. I shouldn't have those just yet. Being a teenager was supposed to be relatively stress free.

    I wasn't supposed to be worrying about how good I could fuck someone, or how good I could suck a guy's dick. I should have been used to it by now, having done it for just over two years. I shouldn't be thinking about the what ifs of another life, any more.

    This was my life. This was what I was stuck with. I had to stop dreaming about other things. About relationships and possible futures.

    Just then, Nate stirred in his sleep, turning from his stomach onto his side. I glanced over my shoulder, watching him from the corner of my eye. I heard him groan sleepily, before sitting upright, raising his hands to wipe at his eyes.

    I arrived there sometime around 3 p.m yesterday, while it was still light outside. The sky was now dark and no, we hadn't been shagging that entire time. I fell asleep. In his arms. What the fuck was up with that? I never, never, fall asleep. It was pretty much the number one rule – you get outta there as soon as you're done. You don't stick around to spoon.

    A few heavy breaths later, Nate swung his legs over the edge of the bed, white sheet tossed around his waste. His face greeted me, and I returned to looking at him through the mirror. He followed my gaze until our eyes met in the reflection. Apart from his eyebrows being slightly curved downwards, there wasn't really any expression upon his features. There rarely ever was.

    “Still here?” he muttered, voice hoarse.

    “I need you to– sorry, you need to...pay me,” I stammered, scratching the back of my head out of nerves. He nodded his head in acknowledgement, taking to his feet and disappearing into the en-suite––ass on full show––shutting the door behind him. I found my hands clasped together in my lap, forearms resting against my thighs. A nervous twitch started in my left leg, growing stronger and more noticeable as I waited for him to reappear with my money.

    I was hoping I wouldn't have any time to myself, where my thought could drift back to the earlier subject of Logan and all the god damn what ifs that just wouldn't leave me alone, no matter how much I begged them to. I was so sick of thinking about it, about possibilities that could never come true. It was stupid, ridiculous, to think about things like that. To think about relationships and boys and, god, I don't know, love?

    I almost wanted to laugh. There I was, sat on the end of some bed, in some fancy hotel room with some rich trick showering in the room beside me, half undressed and replaying what happened between me and Logan over and over again. A rent boy, fantasising about love. I shouldn't bother with thoughts like that, I was only torturing myself, but maybe I deserved it.