by Rowan Shaw
"I want you," he said, his gaze filled with carnal hunger.
It took all my efforts to shake my head. "You only want to release the pain, Adrien. This isn't the way."
I hated doing this when he wasn't feeling well. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel rejected, but I was tired of him using me whenever he needed to feel better about himself.
"You met someone else?" he asked as if that was the only reason why I would deny him sex.
"No, I haven't been with anyone but you."
If I was honest, that was exactly my problem. I couldn't let myself fall for him any more than I already had. I'd fought against those feelings so hard. It didn't make me feel safe how attracted I was to him, how much I wanted him, how good he made me feel when we were together, touching or not. I couldn't let myself go down that road waiting for more. That would never happen for us.
"I see," he said as though he'd figured me out. "Is it because I'm a whore?"
"I never called you a whore. And I don't like it when you use that word."
"No, but you keep treating me like one," he said.
I didn't rise to the bait. He was being ridiculous.
"You can't tell me we're just fucking and then get upset when I don't give you more," I snapped. "What do you want from me, Adrien? A relationship?"
He stared at me. "Don't you get it, Raphaël? We already are in a relationship. Whether you like it or not. We've been fucking for months. We live together. You spend almost every night in my arms. It's practically like we're dating."
Yes, and the keyword here was "almost." I spent some nights in his arms—except when he was out there fucking somebody else and I was left behind waiting for him. I took a second to calm down. "I can't be in a relationship with you if you keep fucking other people for a living. I just can't."
No matter how much I wanted to.
I couldn't understand how he could even ask something like that of me. I was so mad at myself for falling for him in the first place, but he was so different now than he'd been when we met. Seeing the vulnerable side of him broke my resolutions every time. Yet, no matter my feelings, I couldn't let myself get more involved. Lie as I might to his face, it was slowly driving me nuts having to share him with other people. I could no longer stand to think of them touching his skin, tasting his moans, and bringing him pleasure. It was selfish of me, but I couldn't help how I felt. Adrien and I were so synced sexually. He was my perfect match, bringing me to heights of pleasure I'd never even known possible before. I hated that he might experience that with someone else. How I felt for him was slowly destroying me.
"I can't keep doing this," I insisted sadly. I didn't think he even knew how much it cost me to rip those words out of my chest. As I watched his eyes fill with sadness, I still wanted him. So damn much, it was killing me.
"I can't quit my job. I already explained that to you," he replied just as sullenly.
"Why? Because you're addicted to the money? You're addicted to sex?"
"Because I'm terrified," he let out.
I froze and gaped at him.
"Do you have any idea what it was like living out on the streets? I will do anything necessary to never go through that again," Adrien asserted. "If you can't understand that, I get it. But I won't change my mind."
"You could get another job."
He laughed unkindly. "In one weekend, I make more than what most people make in a month. In one hour, I make what most people make in one day or two. Why would I want to give that up? Give me one good reason. Just one."
I wanted to tell him that I should be reason enough if he truly cared about me, that if he kept his job, he'd end up losing me, but I knew that would sound like emotional blackmail. It wasn't fair to demand such a sacrifice of him. Not when he'd never promised me more than sex. He seemed to want more as well, but he'd never said it explicitly. The only thing he'd ever made clear was this thing between us was just shagging, and he'd never quit his job for anyone.
"What if I wanted to date you and be your boyfriend, would I be enough of a reason to stop?" I asked because no matter what, I needed to know.
His eyes never wavered. "I can't give up financial security for a relationship that might not last."
It broke a part of me how little he trusted me. I nodded, getting ready to leave, but he held me back with his hand on my shoulder.
"What happens now?" he asked, his voice cracking.
The sorrow in him nearly ruined me, but for my own well-being, I couldn't cave in.
"I don't know."
Adrien looked devastated. Even in his worst moments, I'd never seen him like this. He extended his hand to stroke my cheek, and like the fool I was, I let him draw me into a kiss. One kiss that made me hope when I knew I shouldn't.
"You don't need to do this job, Adrien. You don't need to sell yourself," I tried to make him understand.
"I'm not selling myself," he replied, pulling away. "You can't tell me what to do with my life or demand that I put myself in a bad situation just because you can't stand to share my cock. I am not yours, Raphaël. I don't belong to you."
"Do you understand the meaning of love at all, Adrien?" I asked. "You come here acting like you want me to be yours, then you tell me you're not mine. You can't have it both ways."
"Love isn't possession. Real love is free, Raphaël—free as in letting the other person be who they truly are, no matter how scary it is for you."
I swallowed down his words. So that was the problem, then? Him freaking out that anyone might try to control who he was the same way his parents had.
"You think I didn't see the way you reacted when I talked about Florian," I said. "You don't want to stop fucking other people, but you can barely stand the thought of me doing the same with someone else."
When Adrien's eyes shifted to the side, I knew I'd struck a chord.
"You could find another job. I could get more working hours to help you pay for the apartment," I insisted, though I was starting to give up.
"You're not listening to what I'm saying, Raphaël. I don't want another job. This place costs over four thousand euros a month to rent. My goal has always been to buy it from Daniel eventually. How am I supposed to afford that if I don't do this job?"
"I..."
"Did you really think the little you've been paying was enough for the rent? For this apartment?" He gestured around to prove what an idiot I was.
"Why did you need a roommate, then? If what I'm paying isn't even helping?" I snapped.
He looked at me, and in that moment, the pain in his eyes grew. I could see the real him rising from underneath the surface, the part he only let me see in glimpses when he was hurting too much to hide.
"I needed a roommate because I was lonely. Until you came into my life, I didn't have anyone. I don't have a family. I have Daniel, but our relationship is complex. It's mostly business. I have friends who mostly like me because I fuck well enough to keep them interested. That's it."
"You have Noah."
"My friendship with Noah is complicated at best." He locked his dark anthracite gaze on mine, waiting a minute to add, "Do you know what it cost me to tell you what I do for a living? I was scared you would walk out on me. Because in spite of what I was telling myself, I didn't want you to leave."
"I didn't leave."
"No, you didn't. You fucked me instead, and now you're asking me to change who I am. Isn't that what everybody does? Either try to change me or try to fuck me. That's all I'm good for."
His words gutted me and angered me at the same time. "It was never like that between us."
"Raphaël, you've been lusting for my dick since day one. No matter how many times I warned you I couldn't give you more, you kept coming back. And now you want me to change who I am to match what you need me to be. The thing is, you could take me as I am. It could be that simple. But you won't. And I'm not selfish enough to ask you to."
Even though the truth had been there all along, I had refus
ed to listen because the real meaning of his words was wrecking me. "You don't want to stop, do you? You'd rather be out there fucking your clients than be home with me?"
He avoided my question. His silence was all the answer I needed. I shook my head and stood to head out. Only when I was in the elevator did I realize Florian and Enzo were staying at my place. I couldn't just leave. I went back home, but when I got in, Adrien was gone. I heard him whispering sweet words to Ila in his room. As pathetic as it might be, I was relieved he hadn't left. I still enjoyed feeling his presence around, and I fucking hated myself for that.
Chapter 50
ADRIEN
"Your friends left?" I asked Raphaël. He had barely talked to me since our argument a few days earlier, but I'd finally managed to corner him in the kitchen. I could tell he was pissed. His brow was creased into a frown, his eyes flashing at me.
"It wouldn't have killed you to say hi to them, you know?" he snapped.
I huffed and shook my head. "And tell some lies about what I do for a living because the truth embarrasses you? No, thanks. If I wanted to spend my life being judged, I'd go back to the Dupuis household and face my father."
"What d'you want me to say? You chose that job, right? You love it. It's not my problem if you can't deal with other people's opinion of it."
I glowered, my heart raging. "I don't care what other people think, Raphaël. But I'm considerate enough not to tell your friends and family I fuck for a living when it's obvious that makes you uncomfortable."
"I thought your job wasn't about fucking," he snarled between his teeth. "You keep contradicting yourself."
He tried to walk past the door, but I blocked the way. "I'm not done here. Can we talk about this? Like adults."
Raphaël pursed his lips, then stared at me. "I think we need to stop."
I froze. "Stop?"
"This isn't working for me. I can't keep sleeping with you. I thought I'd made that clear."
I didn't know what to say. I couldn't ask him to keep seeing me if he didn't want to. Even if it cost me to accept his words. "Okay."
"You're fine with that?" he asked, surprised.
"I'm not going to force you." I moved out of the way to let him pass, not ready for the sharp loneliness to consume me when he did. I closed my eyes and gripped the doorframe. I was losing him, and I hadn't prepared myself for the pain of such loss.
Chapter 51
RAPHAËL
I fucking hated the weeks that followed. I hated how much I missed him. I hated that I had to try and avoid him because one look at him would be enough to weaken me and make me break my resolution. I had nowhere else to live, but a part of me wanted out of this place so badly, it made me ache. Even though we weren't sleeping together anymore, I knew whenever Adrien was meeting a client, and it gutted me every fucking time. It destroyed me whether we were together or not.
I lay there on the couch staring at the white ceiling, hating myself for the hundredth time today when the phone rang. I picked it up lazily without checking the caller ID and mumbled a pathetic greeting.
"Raphaël?" my dad's voice came through the receiver, low and shaky. His broken tone was so unlike him, I sat up in my seat.
"Papa, are you okay?" I asked.
"Something happened to your mom. She had a car accident. She's in the hospital."
"What?" My heart broke into a race, making me dizzy as I stood and started pacing.
I must have been loud because Adrien walked out of his room, his face marked with concern. "Is everything okay?"
I shook my head, barely able to respond. My hands were shaking already. I could barely breathe.
"I'm waiting to hear from the doctor," my dad said.
I nodded frantically, realizing he couldn't see me. I asked him what had happened, but I could barely process his words. "I'll be on my way. I'll catch the first train. I'll be right there," I assured him.
"I'm at Saint Julien Hospital. I'll be here all day."
"Okay." My heart was hammering so hard, my chest hurt when I hung up.
"What's wrong?" Adrien asked, moving closer.
"My mom had an accident. She's in the hospital."
Genuine distress mixed with fear covered his face. "Is she okay?"
"We don't know."
He swallowed on a gulp. "What do you need? Do you need me to get you a train ticket while you're packing? Do you need me to drive you to the station?"
"I have to go to the hospital."
He gave a short nod. "Do you need help packing?"
"No, I'm fine."
"I'll order you a train ticket, and I'll drive you there."
"You don't have to do that."
He pinned his dark eyes on mine. "Raphaël, I will always be there for you, no matter what. Please, let me do this."
My damn traitorous heart fluttered. His sweetness and attention weakened me. Since my decision to stop sleeping with him, not a single day had gone by when I didn't regret it. I missed him so damn much, but I was holding on.
"Aren't you working today?" I asked.
"I was supposed to, but I'm canceling."
I wanted to protest, but he grabbed my shoulders, his gaze still fixed on mine. "I am here for you. Go pack."
I gave a lame nod, only because I was too weak to deal with everything that was happening and reject his help at the same time. Still in shock, I disentangled myself from his grip and headed to my room. If anything happened to my mom, I didn't know what I would do.
My eyes welled up as I grabbed my backpack and threw it on my bed, then stacked some shirts inside without paying attention to what I was taking along.
When I was done, I found Adrien on the phone in the living room.
"Okay, yes, talk to you later," he said and hung up, then looked at me. "You ready? I got you a ticket. The train leaves in two hours."
I sighed through a nod. I didn't want to wait that long, but Adrien wasn't in control of the train schedules.
"We should leave now. Traffic is bad at this hour."
I followed him to the foyer almost robotically. Even if it'd taken me months to adjust, I was used to riding his motorcycle by now. When we reached the garage, I shouldered my backpack, sat behind him, and wrapped my arms around his waist. I hated how I missed the feeling of his body against mine, and I hated how his warmth always comforted me.
It took us over thirty minutes to strive through the Parisian traffic and reach the Gare de l'Est. Adrien parked the motorcycle outside, setting the anti-theft and grabbing both helmets in one hand. He led me inside the station, where we still had over an hour left to wait. Between that and the train ride, I'd have enough time to go nuts with worry.
Adrien offered to get us some coffee and something to snack on.
"I'm not hungry."
"I'll get you a sandwich. You can eat it on the train," he insisted. "Who knows how long it'll be before your next meal?"
I let him do whatever he wanted. I didn't have the energy to fight over something as trivial as food anyway. I slumped into the chair of some brasserie, barely processing my surroundings. The woman on the speaker kept announcing the arriving trains, and all the voices of the various travelers mixed together inside my head. I stayed there waiting for Adrien until he came back with a ham and veggie sandwich that he handed to me with a wan smile.
"Will you text me to let me know how things are going?" he asked as he sat down.
"Yeah."
When the waiter brought our drinks, Adrien downed his espresso in two gulps. He seemed as worried as I was, which was hardly surprising. He'd been asking news of my parents at least once a week since he'd met them.
The clock ticked by too slowly as I forced myself to swallow the lemonade he'd gotten for me. Adrien attempted to make small talk and keep me entertained. I was trying hard not to freak out, but I was failing, fidgeting, my leg jerking up and down in a nervous tick.
"Maybe you should text him again," Adrien suggested when he noticed the state I was
in.
"He would have told me if anything had changed."
Adrien looked at me pointedly, tilting his head to the side.
"Okay," I sighed.
I grabbed my phone and messaged my dad, but he didn't reply for another fifteen minutes during which I was barely functional.
Papa: Still no news from the doctor. I'm in the waiting room. Sorry I took so long to reply. I had to fill out a bunch of paperwork.
I sighed and shook my head at Adrien, who extended his hand over the table to grab mine. "Call me or text whenever you need to, okay? If you need me to be there in person, I'll arrange things so I can come over."
His words meant a lot, but I couldn't let his kindness affect me. It'd been hard enough to repress my feelings as it was. I watched as he brought my knuckles to his lips and kissed them as if we were dating or even still sharing the same bed at night.
"Please call me, okay?" he insisted.
I gave a nod and closed my eyes, doing my best not to think of the worst.
Chapter 52
ADRIEN
I waited all day for news from Raphaël, stirring around the apartment, my anxiety kicking off the charts. Still without a response to my texts in the late afternoon, I entered my studio and narrowed my eyes. Something was amiss. I took a look around, but I couldn't pinpoint what the problem was, though something was different for sure. I searched for the mistake in this picture for a while until my eyes caught on the spot where I usually kept my charcoal folder on the desk. The folder wasn't there.
I ruffled through all my drawings, but I couldn't find it. I started to panic. I was sure I hadn't taken it anywhere. I always brought a different folder with me when I went to the café to see Céleste.
I spun on my feet and rifled through every corner of my studio, checking the spots by my sink, next to my paint tubes, on the easel, behind my paintings on the ground. When I lifted those, the weight was much lighter than it usually was. I froze.
