Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Ezra cleared his throat and started a trickle of water to wash his hands, but all his attention was on the voices outside, because if Ezra could influence Frank, so could Shane, and if that was his attitude toward Ezra, then he needed to be watched carefully.
Had Ros repeated something Ezra had said without thinking? Was this why Shane was here, trying to sow seeds of doubt in Frank?
“And you think he’ll listen?” Shane asked, unaware they might be overheard. “You don’t want to mix pleasure with work, Frankie… though I suppose he already does.”
“He’s not working now, is he?”
Ezra sensed the edge of agitation in Frank, and he wished to see his face, because he was quite good at reading expressions.
Shane answered after a long pause. “I don’t know. Is he? And if he’s not… is he going back to it?”
Ezra switched off the tap and swallowed, gravitating closer to the window. In his current situation, he couldn’t plan for the future. The man he’d been meant to move in with in LA had probably forgotten his existence already and moved on to some other pretty face, but he still liked to dream big.
And big dreams didn’t have a place in the middle of nowhere.
“What is it to you?” Frank asked.
“I’m just looking out for you. Are you falling for this kid?”
“He’s about Ros’s age, so don’t call him a kid!”
“Touchy subject, I see, I see.” Shane laughed without much humor. “I know he’s pretty, but… with his profession, he’s been around and knows what to tell a guy to make him dance to his tune. Don’t let him use you—”
“Do I look like I can’t take care of myself? What are you implying, huh?”
Shane sighed, staying quiet for a breathless second that had Ezra’s heart beating faster. “Look, I’m not good at this emotional shit, so I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but serious talk, Frank—you were a bit lonely these past few years. It’s understandable that you got attached to someone who makes you feel good. But let’s face it, he met you as a client, and he wouldn’t have come here if he wasn’t in danger. I’m just saying, don't lose your head just because it feels right.”
“I don’t yet know if he’ll stay, okay? The whole thing with Paul needs to cool off for us to know if he can safely leave. But why is it so hard for you to believe that he might actually want me, huh? ‘Cause he’s young and hot?”
“‘Cause he’s probably seen more dick than I did in prison, and knows exactly how to exchange that pretty face for favors. He’s using you like that guy I knew who’d suck a dick for cigs. He doesn’t care—”
A heavy thump was followed by Shane swearing. Ezra leaned against the tiled wall, breathing slowly as the vicious words cut deep into his brain, hurting as if they were shards of glass. He was not some desperate guy who’d sleep with just anyone. He was a prize whose time people were willing to pay premium for. He valued every client and chose them based on certain standards. So maybe he did utilize certain… techniques to hook people, but that did not mean he intended to lie to Frank in any way.
He liked Frank.
He really fucking liked Frank so much it scared and confused him.
And Shane was one to talk when he so clearly had the charm of a player! Ezra could smell it on him from miles away. Did he think that not getting paid for it made him better?
“What was that for? I was just being honest because you’re like family to me!” Shane complained.
“Fuck your honesty! I bet Dex slept with more guys than Ezra, and that’s for free. So what? What’s it matter? He’s a person, you shithead. He has feelings. Can his feelings for me grow? I don’t know, but I’m gonna fucking give it a shot. Not because he’s handsome, but because, yeah, I feel good when I’m with him. I like seeing him smile. There’s a reason you chased after Ros when he didn’t want to see your face, and you built him a goddamn house. It’s not because he gives good head. It’s much more than that, and you know it, no matter how cynical you try to act.”
Warmth settled on Ezra’s shoulders, and he rubbed his chest when it felt almost too tight around his heart. It had been a very long time since Ezra felt he had someone in his corner, supporting him unconditionally.
The people he met on a daily basis—store clerks, beauticians—were nice and polite because they provided a service. The acquaintances he was closest with were gossip mills good only for passing the time, but he would not trust them with his real self.