Hired

by Zoey Castile

  I nearly choke on my food, and drink the scalding-hot coffee to wash it down. “She has?”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s a security thing. But you don’t even have a parking ticket.”

  I grin. “It’s a good thing, since I’ve never had a license.”

  “How do people from New York even function?”

  “It’s a secret called the subway. It takes you almost anywhere you want to go and it’s almost even on time.”

  “You seem nervous.”

  “I’ve never met a girl’s parents before,” I say.

  “Not even in high school?”

  I grin. “I stopped going to school dances after junior high. And I never had dates. I told you, I was a late bloomer.”

  When she looks at me like that, with her chin resting on her hands, I find it so easy to talk.

  “My mom’s intimidating, but she’s even worse once you get to know her. My dad’s a teddy bear. Just don’t tell him you’ve seen me naked and we’re clear.”

  I burn my tongue on another sip of coffee. “Good to know. I doubt he’ll want his daughter dating an unemployed dancer who’s going to be crashing with his best friend and his fiancée soon.”

  “Uh, your fellow unemployed friend prefers the term in between jobs,” she says. “I had a small trust from my grandmother and I put it all in my house. Now I just have to figure out the rest of my life. And why are you going to be crashing with your best friend? What happened to your room?”

  I clear my throat. “It was only booked for a week and they won’t extend it because the place is full. Something about American football.”

  She glances around. “Down here it’s just football. And just for the next two weeks, you might want to be a Jets fan and not a Giants fan.”

  “There’s hockey in the South?”

  Faith stares at me blankly for a long time. Even Jade, who is folding napkins while listening in, nearly drops a fork.

  “I’m kidding,” I say, holding up my hands in defense.

  “Anyway,” Faith says, tapping her finger on the top of my hand like she’s sending some Morse code up to my chest. “Hm. I don’t know if this is weird or what, but you can stay with me.”

  “Really?”

  “You’re staying through the ball. The least I could do is save you the trouble of shacking up with your friend.”

  “Stay with you.” Something about repeating those words fucks me up inside. Not in a bad way, like I’m going to run out of here. It makes me want to break apart in this seat, like something that has to be inspected before being put back together to make sure it works. It’s like my entire body is being rebooted and I don’t know what my primary function is.

  This tells me that I have to stop watching science fiction movies when I can’t sleep. And also that I shouldn’t move in with Faith. Even if it’s for a week. I’ve known her for a week and I’m coming apart at the seams.

  So I say, “I can’t wait.”

  She holds her coffee cup in the air. “To slumber parties.”

  “I’ll cheers to that.” We both drink, and I feel my phone buzz. It’s Fallon, a selfie of him and the others at a bar. It’s a stupid thing. It doesn’t make any sense. What I’m about to ask Faith is too soon. But this timeline is already wrong. “Hey, do you want to meet my friends?”

  She tilts her head to the side, that youthful little scrunch on her nose.

  “Aiden, I would love to.”

  FAITH

  When we walk into the lounge, I’m not sure if Aiden is clinging to me or if I’m clinging to him. The Daisy is so new to the Quarter that the couches still have the new-leather smell. The walls are dark red, with white sconces of light, and aluminum roofs that remind me of 1920s speakeasies. Old-school reggae floods the room, and I find myself moving my shoulders as we get to the small group tucked away in a quiet corner.

  It’s still early in the night, so the music isn’t so loud we can’t hear each other. There are so many guys I can’t exactly remember who Gary and Vinny are, but I’d pick Ricky out of the group without having met him. He’s the best dressed out of them, and the most charming. Even more charming than Aiden, if that’s possible. His blue eyes wink at me, and his close-cropped blond beard brushes the back of my hand.

  “My lady,” he says.

  Aiden wraps a hand around my waist and shoos Ricky away. They all laugh, and someone offers me a drink. I order a scotch on the rocks with a twist, and they laugh when Aiden orders a hurricane.

  “What?” he asks. “They’re mad good! Robyn, help me out.”

  A young Latina with ropes of black hair over her shoulder smiles. She’s sitting perched on a guy Aiden introduced as Fallon. They’re the only ones in a couple, with the exception of two of the guys whose names escape me.

  Robyn holds up her drink. “I’m with you. They’re delicious.”

  “So, Faith,” Fallon says. “What are your intentions with our Aiden?”

  “Okay, we’re leaving,” Aiden says, smiling as he takes my hand. One of the bearded guys pulls him back so we’re on separate sides of the wraparound couch.

  “Come, Faith,” Robyn says, and Fallon gives up his seat so the two of us can sit together. “It’s just us girls. And a bunch of bros. You’re lucky because usually they’re running around naked.”

  I catch Aiden’s eye to let him know that I’m fine. That I can tell how much they feel like family. It’s something that I’m used to. A light hazing whenever someone new comes along. I’ve never done it for something that wasn’t permanent, but it’s still part of the fun.

  “Don’t worry,” I say, “I got a preview.”

  They make ohhhhh noises, and on Aiden’s side he’s pulled into conversation with three of the guys and Ricky. I want to ask how Angie’s audition went, but I also don’t know if that’s a line I shouldn’t cross in case it didn’t go well.

  “Have you been to NOLA before?” I ask Robyn and Fallon.

  But just then the waitress rolls around with a tray of drinks, and I take my scotch and Aiden takes his hurricane. It is almost a foot tall and has fruit that don’t even belong there.

  “That’s extra,” I say. “Even for a tourist drink.”

  “A toast,” Ricky says. He stands, tugs on the bottom of his black velvet blazer. He taps his finger right at the center of his torso. “To always remembering where our family is.”

  We cheers, and when I catch Aiden’s eye, he moves his lips. I can’t be certain, but I think he says, To us.

  “What was that?” Robyn asks me, catching the exchange between us. She playfully nudges my arm, her brown shoulders have recent bikini tan lines.

  “Oh, it’s just this thing Aiden and I’ve been doing,” I say.

  Fallon chuckles, like he knows something Robyn and I don’t.

  “What’s so funny?” Robyn asks Fallon.

  “I just like being right.” His green-blue eyes are like sparkling gems, and when they fall on Robyn, all of her, they light up even more. “So, Faith, give us some recommendations. We might actually be staying here a little bit longer.”

  “How come?” I swallow a sip of my drink.

  “Well, Ricky’s looking to expand. It’s not definite. But just in case we find ourselves here for a little while.”

  At the thought of Aiden here, my heart gives a hard squeeze. I do my best to not look at him, but it doesn’t last for long. He’s all smiles, that flop of his hair falling over his eyes. I want to reach across the couch to move it. Then I realize, Aiden being here for longer could complicate things. Good, bad—I’m not sure. All I know is I hate the idea of thinking about our inevitable good-bye. I’m the one who pushed him to talk to his friends again. Maybe there’s something to this fate universe woo-woo stuff. Maybe . . .

  I drink my scotch, but even that makes me think of him, because it’s like imbibing the color of his eyes. My mind goes through all of my favorite places in town.

  Fallon lowers his whiskey and ginger and points from m
e to Aiden. “Tell Robyn about the swamp.”

  Robyn takes my hands in hers. “Oh my god, I want to go. Aiden said you took him into the wilderness.”

  “I did not.” I look over to him and stick my tongue out. “We have very different definitions of what the wild means.”

  “She almost turned me into gator food,” Aiden shouts over the music.

  “Those chicken legs?” A tall blond man, almost blinding to look at, says. He slaps his beefy hand over Aiden’s thigh. “You skipping leg day, bro?”

  “He really hasn’t,” I say, just because I love Aiden’s body so much I can’t bear to think of someone disparaging its glory.

  They fall into a bevy of howls and laughter. We get another round, and the blond guy, Patrick Halloran, begins an ab contest.

  “Don’t mind Pat,” Fallon says. “He’s the middle child of three brothers and didn’t get enough attention.”

  Robyn shakes her head, leaning into Fallon. They’re so comfortable together that their happiness radiates.

  As if he’s reading my mind, Aiden’s at my side.

  “Do you need a judge for this ab contest?” I ask him, taking the hand he offers me. Maybe it’s the whiskey, maybe it’s the red walls, the dimly lit room, but I let my fingers wander up his shirt and along the happy trail over muscle.

  I look over my shoulder. Robyn and Fallon are kissing so sensually, I can’t believe they haven’t set fire to their corner of the couch. Ricky is consumed by something on his phone, and the other guys have abandoned their contest for the pool table in the corner.

  “Come here,” he says, pulling me against him.

  My body goes willingly. Pressing myself against him is like arriving to a destination I didn’t know I was trying to reach. We stumble down a dark corridor. It’s a series of VIP rooms that are marked reserved, ready for tonight’s festivities. There’s one that’s completely empty. The furniture hasn’t been set up, except for plush gray walls.

  “Wait,” I say, and he stops kissing and lets go. I point into the empty room and step inside.

  “Faith, what are you doing?” Aiden asks, but he knows what we’re doing because he follows, his whiskey-colored eyes bright with mischief.

  I shut the door and twist the lock.

  His eyebrow raises as he presses his fists on either side of my head. “Someone could try to get in here.”

  I kiss his jaw.

  “The furniture isn’t set up, Faith,” he says, nuzzling into my neck.

  I slide my fingers into the front of his jeans. “Then fuck me standing up, Aiden.”

  He makes a grunting noise as he presses himself so hard against the wall, I think we might melt into it.

  I knew I should have worn a skirt the moment he parts my knees with his and rubs his fingers between my legs. I shut my eyes against the feel of his thumb searching for my center and finding it right away, like a road he’s committed to memory.

  “I’ve thought about fucking you all day,” he says. “Even while we were sleeping.”

  “I know,” I say. “I could feel you when you woke up this morning.”

  He grabs my hips and flips me around. The movement is so fast that I squeal. He lines his rock-hard dick between my ass cheeks.

  “Is this what you felt?” he asks against my ear.

  I lean into him, my hands pressed against the wall in front of me. I can’t find my breath for a moment, my heart is racing so fast. “Yes.”

  “Tell me what you want, Faith.”

  All I can answer with is a moan. “Touch me.”

  He moves a hand around me, finds the front of my jeans, and snaps the button open.

  I feel his forehead press between my shoulder blades, his legs tremble as his fingers slip inside me.

  “Your pussy is so fucking hot and wet.”

  “For you,” I say. “Only for you.”

  “This is my pussy.” He slips in a second finger, and something inside of me jolts in response to the way he drums them back and forth and I rock myself against his hand.

  “You’re going to make me come,” I say, moving my hips against him.

  “That’s all I want, baby. To make you come with my fingers, my dick, my mouth.”

  He pulls out his fingers and brings them to his mouth. “You taste so sweet.”

  Then, Aiden grabs the sides of my jeans and slides them down to my ankles. I reach behind me without turning around. I pull the zipper strained by the bulge within. He lets go of a hard sigh when he’s free. There’s the metallic rip of a condom.

  “Aiden.” I say his name, full of anticipation.

  He places a hand on the back of my neck. Drags his nose from there to my ear. “Say my fucking name again.”

  “Aiden,” I say, harder.

  He holds his cock by the base, toys the top of it between my legs, at my opening. I push myself back, but he teases me. Grips the back of my neck. It’s rough and delicious and I want more of it. More of him. I can’t stand it, so I turn around. I place my hand on his hard, beautiful ass and pull him against me.

  “I need you to fuck me right now,” I say.

  He scoops up my weight in his hands, keeps us upright by sinking us into the wall. All of the breath leaves my chest when he slips inside of me. Traps my mouth with his as he slides his swollen, hard dick in inch by inch.

  He kisses me like he hasn’t done it before, devours me like I’m the last slice of pie. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he bounces me up to keep me from sliding.

  “Deeper,” I whisper into his ear. He rolls his pelvis against me, pushing farther in until my voice is strangled. I’ve swallowed him whole. I want to keep him inside of me. He moves fast and hard. The wall is thankfully sturdy, the bass of the music thumping to the rhythm of us, until my belly’s ignited with the spark of his essence. I need something to hold onto, and I want to grab hold of every part of him.

  “I’m going to come,” I manage to say.

  “Oh, God, Faith,” he says, grabbing hold of one of my knees. I can feel the walls inside me constrict, tighten around his hardness, and when he buries himself within me so hard, shock-waves pulse from my core.

  And then he follows, his breath heavy and hard and spent.

  AIDEN

  When we exit the empty room and return to the others, it’s clear exactly what we were doing. Partly because we were gone for so long and neither of us smoke, but mostly because the smell of Faith’s sex clings to me.

  We say good-bye, and I’m fucking proud of the flush on her perfect cheeks.

  “Thank you for coming with me,” I say.

  She glances up, a smart smirk as my reward. “That was a first for me.”

  “Meeting someone’s friends?”

  “No, silly. Finishing at the same time.”

  “Me too.”

  “I want to try again,” she says in that way she has of making my heart race.

  The closest thing is my hotel room. It’s going to be empty tomorrow, and the room is the penthouse suite. It expects more sex than it’s had.

  We kiss all the way up in the elevator, and I know if she only had on a skirt, I’d be so deep inside of her I’d graze her cervix with my dick.

  I let us inside, and for a moment, the fear of everything I am, everything I’ve been doing, hits me. What if Ginny surprised me here? No, she wouldn’t because she’s the one who called the whole week off.

  “Do you want anything to eat?” she asks. “I just realized the biggest thing I ate today was pie.”

  “Of course,” I say. “Order me a burger, medium rare.”

  I walk through the room and look for anything that might be out of place. I know that at this point I’m paranoid. No, not paranoid, guilty. Because I know that even if I’ve never had sex with Ginny, it matters that she paid for this room and that she’s the whole reason I’m here.

  Maybe that was what the Tarot reading was talking about. Letting go and all that. Because everything is going to be fine with me and Ricky a
nd it gives me something to consider. A prospect. A job. A life. A woman.

  A woman who makes me come alive in a way I didn’t think possible. In a way I thought was missing from me. This whole time I thought that maybe I was built wrong. That the reason I could have random hookups, the reason I could get paid for my time, was because I didn’t care.

  Only, now I care. I care because I want every part of me to be Faith’s. For her pleasure and hers alone.

  I hear the click of the phone in the bedroom. Then the rustle of clothes. The familiar snap of elastic that makes my dick salute like it’s the first day of basic training.

  I walk toward my room, and I feel like I’m wading through the best dream I’ve ever had. Because Faith Charles is spread across my bed on her belly, propped up on her elbows, ankles crossed behind her.

  “I’m starting to think you like having sex when you might get caught,” I say.

  “Who’s going to walk in?” she asks.

  “Room service?”

  She rubs the mattress in front of her. “Then you’d better get to work.”

  I unbutton my shirt in such a frenzy, a button goes flying off somewhere. My pants and underwear land in a heap on the floor.

  “Leave the socks on,” Faith says, harkening back to that first day.

  I climb on the bed, and part of me wonders how I can joke around while I’m naked with her. Some women try too hard to act sexy, like it’s a game, but with Faith, I want to smile and laugh and act like we’ve done this a million times. I want to get to that million, and I want to be able to say that it still makes her feel good.

  “I never noticed this,” I say, and trace the delicate arrow tattoo on her ankle. It’s pointed toward her toes, like she is only ever meant to go forward. I love being so naked with her that there are still things for me to discover.

  “Freshman year rebellion,” she answers and rubs my dick. As if she even needs to do that to get my attention.

  I rip open the condom, and this time she helps me get it on. I love the way my dick looks in her hands. The way she cups the base and runs a wet finger across my balls.