Allison

 

Friday came in the blink of an eye. The week passed in a surreal haze and I wondered if this whole thing had been a dream. Except that I had the emails and now the text messages, too, that proved this was really happening. I was selling my virginity to a complete stranger.

 

A hot stranger.

 

Assuming his picture was real and any kind of accurate. It was all the dangers of a blind date with twice the risk. Not exactly encouraging. But every time I was on the verge of talking myself out of it, I saw that picture of me and my sister at the park a few years back. She was still so young with braces and twin braids. Happy, healthy. That picture reminded me why I was doing this.

 

I couldn’t and wouldn’t back out now.

 

It was one in the afternoon and I was still packing. I was supposed to meet this guy – Jules, he called himself – at a little coffee shop downtown in an hour. It was only for the weekend, so packing should have been easy, but I was struggling with it.

 

Did I pack a dress? Heels? Lingerie? A sweatshirt? Sleeping clothes?

 

Would I even do much sleeping?

 

I licked my lips, my mind wandering to the places I was both scared and thrilled to go. No matter the circumstances, I was still about to have sex for the first time. Sure, it was for a lot of money and with a complete stranger, but I had to give it up sometime. And now that the possibility was looming ever nearer, I found that my trepidation was mixed with excitement.

 

Everyone said that sex was amazing – just not the first time. But he wanted a whole weekend with me! Maybe that was just so he could do the tattoo… but I didn’t think so. I figured he’d want to get his money’s worth, and one point five million dollars was a lot of money.

 

I shivered at the thoughts of what could happen this weekend. It could be good, great even. Or it could be the worst experience of my life.

 

All I could hope for was that I would get lucky.

 

The little duffle bag sitting on the edge of my bed was basically empty. I had a few toiletries with me, just the essentials, and that was it. I still hadn’t settled on the clothing yet, and I doubted I’d have time for a book or anything. But I did make sure to pack a cell phone charger and stash some cash in a couple of different places, just in case I had to make an emergency exit and couldn’t get to my car.

 

Strewn alongside the bag was a variety of different clothing. Everything from yoga pants to a parka— which was a little ridiculous. We weren’t likely to be spending any time in the arctic. But I was still trying to figure out what I was comfortable with bringing with me. The parka had been one of the first things I’d decided I was okay with.

 

Sighing, I reluctantly set it aside. Comfortable or no, I wasn’t taking that. This was supposed to be a sexy weekend, not a ski trip.

 

The second thing I got rid of was the ankle-length nightgown that had once belonged to my mother. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be wearing that. But I did want to pack something for sleeping in, right? Scrunching up my face, I settled on an oversized t-shirt was a hand-me-down from someone, though I couldn’t remember who. I folded it neatly, then placed it within the bag.

 

“Okay. Sleep clothes, check.”

 

Next, I needed day clothes. Jeans would be my normal pick, but maybe a dress was the way to go? It would be flirty and pretty, unlike most of my threadbare and ratty go-to outfits. Other than my diner uniform, I didn’t wear a lot of dresses.

 

Holding up a pretty purple one that had been a gift from Christel, I debated taking this. Or did I wear it to meet him? I’d already sent him a picture of my body. A blush crawled up my cheek at the memory, but I had the feeling it was still important to impress him at this first meeting.

 

Which was why I sighed and decided I wouldn’t bring the sweats. Even though I really wanted to.

 

Instead, I ended up packing the dress and picking a nicer pair of black skinny jeans and a blue top to wear today. I wouldn’t wear heels, because—

 

Well, because I was still scared. I needed to be able to run if there was reason to. So, Converse it was. Maybe not super fancy, but they went with everything, right?

 

I threw in a couple more outfits. A skirt, another pair of jeans, some t-shirts that were nicer. Then I finally had to pick out panties and bras. I didn’t really have specific ‘sexy’ ones, so there wasn’t much to dig through. Instead, I just went with things that would match what I’d already packed. I’d wear the one lacy bra today, because it happened to work with my top, but the rest were t-shirt bras, more or less.

 

When I’d packed everything up, I showered and dried my hair. Then I took some time to do my makeup. I got dressed and, finally, I was ready to go.

 

Snatching up my phone and my bag, I hesitated at the door. I still had to tell my sister something. She wouldn’t be thrilled if she knew I was going back on our deal, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that. We needed the money. So I’d have to come up with a convincing reason for why I would be absent all weekend. After only a minute of staring at my phone, I settled on the lamest, most obvious, and most legitimate excuse I could.

 

“Allison?” Bree’s voice sounded small through the speaker, like maybe I’d woken her. I had to call the hospital phone, since they didn’t allow cells. I couldn’t afford one for Bree right now anyway.

 

“Hey, sweet pea, how are you?”

 

“Okay. A little tired,” she admitted.

 

I held back a sigh and tried to sound chipper. “I wanted to call and let you know what was going on.”

 

“What’s going on?” I heard suspicion in my sister’s voice.

 

Doing my best to remain calm and nonchalant, I answered, “I’ve got work all weekend again. I took on some extra shifts to—well, you know.”

 

My sister’s voice softened immediately. “Oh, that really sucks. I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

 

I shrugged though she couldn’t see me. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll do whatever it takes. That was the deal, right?” I didn’t mention that I was on my way to break my end of it.

 

“Yeah, it is.”

 

There was a long pause where I just felt guilty for lying to my sister. And for making her feel bad, too.

 

“Anyway,” I finally said when I couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m sorry, but I probably won’t be able to stop by this weekend. The shifts are going to be during visiting hours. But if there’s an emergency, I’ll have my cell. My customers can wait long enough that I can take a damn phone call, at least.”

 

“Okay. Just… try not to work yourself into the ground, okay?”

 

I winced, once more feeling incredibly guilty. But I didn’t come clean. Instead, I said, “Okay kiddo. I’ll do my best. You get some rest, and I’ll give you a call when I can.”

 

“Love you,” she told me softly.

 

My heart twinged as it always did. I wasn’t a mother, but sometimes I felt like one. I’d helped raise my little sister and it left me feeling not just responsible, but like she was the most important thing in my world. I imagined that was what parenthood was like.

 

“Love you, too.”

 

We hung up and I took a moment to remind myself that lying to her was necessary. It was okay, this one time, because I was protecting her and doing it to save her. That was just enough to make my feet move toward the door. I reached for the knob and jerked it open, then let out a cry. I jumped back, heart pounding in my chest and eyes wide.

 

Oh, shit.

 

Shae stood in the doorway. He was about six feet tall with dull brown hair and muddy eyes that often seemed angry. He spent time at the gym, so there were muscles there, but they never seemed to be quite enough to make him large. Instead, they made him seem average. In fact, everything about him seemed average.

 

When we first met, I had liked that. It had appealed to me because it made me feel like we were equals. Because I was average, too. But now… Now, I disliked that average-ness. It made him seem too much like wallpaper or background noise. Yeah, it was there, but you never really noticed it. Not until it started peeling or the sound began to grate on your ears.

 

“Shae, w-what are you doing here?”

 

The urge to slam the door in his face was strong and I would have tried it if I thought I could get it closed before he caught it. He was stronger than I was – I didn’t know if he was faster – so I tried to play it cool.

 

Shae smiled at me, almost sweetly, except his eyes still looked mad. He had looked mad since I had refused to have sex with him the first time, and it just seemed to escalate from there.

 

“I came to see you, baby.” He smiled, showing white teeth that were just slightly crooked. “You’re not returning my calls, and I just wanted to talk.”

 

“No.” Be firm, be firm. “We don’t need to talk about anything, Shae. We’re done, over, remember?”

 

His smile dropped and he took a step forward. He wasn’t across the threshold yet, but it was close. If he took another step inside, he would be, and I wouldn’t have a shot at getting the door closed. “Don’t be that way, Allison.”

 

I swallowed nervously. “Just go, Shae. Please.”

 

I shouldn’t have tacked on that “please,” because it sounded timid and weak. Not the image I wanted to present right now.

 

His eyes darted to the bag slung over my shoulder. “Going somewhere?”

 

I opened my mouth to lie through my teeth, but then stopped. This was the perfect opportunity, wasn’t it? I could tell him I was meeting someone. That I was spending the weekend with another man. That would tell him it was really over, that I’d moved on.

 

Almost shaking with nerves, I lifted my chin a little and tried to appear confident. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m meeting someone. We’re… We’re spending the weekend together.”

 

Instantly, his face flushed a blotchy red in hot anger. He looked ready to kill and I was likely the target. My hand went to the door. As he asked, “Who? Who are you fucking? You won’t sleep with me, but—” I slammed the door in his face. He tried to step into it, but I put all my weight behind it. I just barely moved fast enough. He started to turn the knob, but I locked it before he could.

 

“Allison!” he screamed, pounding on the door. “Open up, you fucking whore!”

 

I flinched at his tone, his words, and the angry pounding. But I didn’t open the door and finding a shred of bravery somewhere inside, I yelled at him, “You’d better leave now! I’m calling the cops!”

 

I heard, “Bitch!” and one last pound at my door, then silence. I risked a glance through the peephole and saw that the space on the other side of my door was empty. No one.

 

Relief mixed with lingering fear. My body shook with the aftermath of that encounter, but at least he was gone. And maybe this time, he wouldn’t come back. I didn’t really believe it, but I hoped.

 

After this, I’m moving. A new place, a new start, and no more Shae.

 

I hoped it would be enough.

 

# # #

 

I waited another hour before leaving. I had to text Jules and let him know I would be late. My excuse was lame – finishing up at work – but I didn’t feel like telling him the truth. This was a business transaction, not a relationship, so I knew he didn’t want to hear it. I’d deal with Shae myself; it was all I could do.

 

When I finally arrived at the coffee shop, I realized that I didn’t have a very good idea of who I was looking for. Yes, I knew he had great abs and tattoos, but that was about it.

 

Biting my lip, I pulled out my phone and sent him a quick text.

 

Here. Where are you?

 

It took only a second to get a reply. Sitting outside. Very last table on the left.

 

I went inside the shop and out the back, searching for the last table and—

 

I froze. There were a half a dozen tables, some of them occupied, some empty, but there was no question about which one he’d meant. At the very end on the left was a small table with only two chairs and a small blue umbrella. Sitting in one of those chairs was possibly the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen.

 

He sat slouched in the chair slightly so that his long legs could extend beneath the table. They were encased in black leather and heavy boots that might have been steel-toed. His torso was long with hard lines that were outlined perfectly by a dark gray t-shirt. A black leather jacket was slung over the back of his chair, for which I was grateful. It meant I got to see his well-defined arms and the snaking tattoo that crawled out from beneath the sleeve of his shirt.

 

By the time I made it to his face, I must have already been drooling, but if I hadn’t I’d have started then. His face was strong with a square jaw and light blonde stubble lining it. His mouth was slanted in impatience with two lines on either side that suggested he either smiled or frowned a lot, and maybe dimples. His hair was blonde and just a little shaggy. Not unkempt, but deliberately longish, like maybe he enjoyed fingers running through it.

 

And finally, his eyes: Blue. Bright. Bold. Framed in dark lashes, longer than any man had any right to have.

 

And then I finally noticed those eyes were focused on me.