About Last Night

by Belle Aurora

  He lifted the phone to his ear and started talking again. “Hey, can I bring Quinn? If there’s two of us, we can move shit around easier.”

  Whatever Harry’s duties were to Minnie, he knew without asking that I’d be there with my metaphorical bells on. After all, Harry was the only family I really had. While he talked to his sister, I checked my cell. The moment I spotted the email icon, anticipation held me to the spot.

  To: Quinn@DFT.com

  From: Minniemouse1987@outlook.com

  Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Setting a date.

  Quinn,

  Having you clarify that you’re in fact not a serial killer is a huge relief. For a moment there, I thought about all the other escorts turned serial killers and decided to stay on the safe side.

  Death by lube doesn’t sound like a good way to go.

  Also not a serial killer,

  Maya

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I could not stop the stupid smile from spreading across my face. She was witty and sarcastic, two of the best qualities in a woman, in my opinion.

  It might sound stupid for a person who gets paid for his looks to rate the looks of women at the lower end of the spectrum, but that was just me. I rated humor and intelligent conversation higher than looks. I did this, because I had dated some of the most beautiful women out there and, trust me, looks didn’t make up for lack of a brain.

  From the second I received an enquiry from a new client, I knew what type of relationship she wanted. Some were very proper and to the point; others were very laid back and easygoing, but I had never had a client talk to me this way before, as if I were a friend. It set the pace. Without saying the words, she’d told me what she needed.

  She needed a friend.

  I let out a chuckle. If a friend was what she needed, I found myself in a position to fill that role in a temporary sense.

  To: Minniemouse1987@outlook.com

  From: Quinn@DFT.com

  Subject: Did you make a funny??

  Dearest Maya,

  Was your extensive sarcasm your way of saying you approve and will allow me the honor of getting to know you a little better?

  Also, death by lube would be gross.

  Death by vibrating anal plug would be epic though.

  Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman,

  Killer Quinn

  I clicked send as the conversation between Harry and Minnie turned into an argument. I waited and waited and waited for Maya’s reply, but got nothing. Harry yelled, “Fine!” into his cell and shoved it into his pocket.

  Looking pissed off, Harry strode to the car, all but stomping his feet. “We’re going to lunch, moron.”

  Just then, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

  To: Quinn@DFT.com

  From: Minniemouse1987@outlook.com

  Subject: Why, yes. How nice of you to notice.

  Killer Quinn,

  Vibrating anal plug? I’m almost too scared to ask…or Google.

  And, I suppose, getting to know you may not be a bad thing, especially if you get my quirky sense of humor.

  Tell me about yourself.

  Maya’s so fly-a

  I placed my phone back in my pocket, reminding myself to email when I got home, and made my way to the car.

  When Harry called me moron, it was anything but an insult. An insult to your best friend should always be received as a pet name, as it is meant. “What about your sister?”

  I couldn’t make out much of what Harry said, but I did hear him utter ‘devil spawn…prayed for a brother…kiss my ass.’ I guessed Minnie didn’t want an overprotective brother ruining her space.

  I smiled to myself. Poor thing didn’t know she was getting two.

  Chapter Three

  Mia

  He responded.

  I threw myself back on my bed, clutching my phone to my chest, laughing. Not only had Matt Quinn responded, but he’d also flirted a little. Kind of. I think.

  Whatever it was I had started, I was not regretting it. A friendship with Quinn would be great. After all, he was my brother’s best friend, and my brother was one of my best friends. It seemed like the natural course to take. I wanted Quinn, for sure. But he served a purpose. I needed his help. When all this was over, we’d look back and laugh. I was sure of it.

  Straightening, I sat up on my bed and looked around my neat-but-bare apartment. Oh, damn. It was good to be home.

  My mother had called me and left umpteen voice messages, the last one threatening to call the neighborhood watch to start a search that would no doubt end in retrieving my body from a ditch. Mom could be a little overprotective. And when I said a little, I meant a shitload.

  The vibration in my hand accompanied by a loud ping let me know I’d received an email. I bit my lip to hide my smile.

  What was happening to me? I was turning into a goose.

  To: Minniemouse1987@outlook.com

  From: Quinn@DFT.com

  Subject: I’ll ask the questions around here, missy.

  Maya drinks chai-a,

  Shucks, lady. I am at your service.

  But no, I won’t be telling you about myself… not until you tell me what you need from lil ole Quinn.

  I’ll make you a deal. For every question you answer, you may ask one. And I promise to answer honestly…if you do.

  Live long and prosper,

  Captain Quinn

  Oh no.

  He was flirting.

  And I…I was liking it very much.

  My heart pounded in my chest while my mind reminded me that Matt Quinn made money flirting with women. He charmed women, took them into his bed, and fucked the ever-loving shit out of them, making them forget their pathetic lives for an hour at an extremely insane amount of cash.

  My chest panged sorely as I thought about all the other women he’d bedded, but then I reminded myself that Quinn and I were destined to be friends, nothing more, which was fine by me. I would never be that woman. That woman would pine over a man she would never have. I was a realist. Men like Quinn didn’t fall for women like me. They fell for women with long blonde hair, big blue eyes, flawless skin, and legs that went on for miles.

  Definitely not me.

  I responded carefully, clinically, as though I didn’t have a care in the world and this was the kind of business I conducted.

  To: Quinn@DFT.com

  From: Minniemouse1987@outlook.com

  Subject: Lily white Maya

  Cap Quinn,

  I’ll see to your terms and up them.

  We each present two questions, but only one shall be answered. Sort of like a potluck.

  As for your services, I am twenty-six years old and still a virgin. The thought of going out with men who have years of experience on me disheartens me. I don’t want to be seen as faulty or be at a disadvantage. I’d also like to feel like the grown-up I am.

  I’d require you to take my virginity and teach me the basics of sex.

  Is this something you can help with?

  Maya don’t lie-a x

  The email was sent. The gauntlet had been thrown. Next move…Matt Quinn.

  Chapter Four

  Quinn

  I was being a shitty friend.

  Harry was talking to me and I was being a putz, checking my phone every minute to see if Maya had responded. Then she did respond. As I read her short email, my cock jerked. I was sitting at a café with my best friend, and my dick was hard. Harder than a fucking rock.

  A virgin. Untouched. Pure.

  No shit.

  I fought the urge to scrub my hands down my face and groan, and grunted a response to Harry.

  Harry muttered, “You know, if you’re going to pretend to listen to me, you could at least accompany your grunt with a slight nod every now and again.”

  I looked across the table to find him smiling at me. He nodded to my phone. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

  Sighing, I shut off my phone and placed it back in my pocket. “Sorry, man. Just a client.�
�

  Harry’s brows rose. “A client? I’ve never seen you turn into a goofball over a client before.”

  I shook my head. “I haven’t met her yet, but she’s shy and funny. Really funny. And sweet. I asked to meet with her and she shut down on me. Normally, I wouldn’t give a shit; I’d leave it be. It’s her choice, after all. But this one…I didn’t want to let her go. We’ve been emailing back and forth all morning, and I gotta be honest here. She’s cool. If we hadn’t met through the agency, I think we’d be friends.”

  But Harry’s smile dropped. “Dude…”

  I rolled my eyes and waved it off. “I know, Har. I know. Believe me. As soon as I feel it’s getting too personal, I’ll cut her off.”

  This did not placate Harry. “Trust me, Quinn. It’s not that easy. You’re taking this girl’s feelings, reciprocating them, making a friendship, and then when you realize it’s too much, you’re going to cut her off when you’re at fault? Shit. She’s probably got no self-esteem as it is, and you putting her to the side is going to make her feel like she’s done something wrong or being punished for something she didn’t do. You said she was shy. Girls like that are fragile.” He stared me down. “Shut it down now before you become attached.”

  I sometimes forgot that Harry had been where I was. I never understood why he quit the escort business. The money was amazing, the women horny, and the lifestyle heaven. I guessed his heart just wasn’t in it anymore.

  Just then, a thought dawned on me. “It happened to you.” He knew what I meant, but held my gaze without faltering. I went on, “You got in too deep with a client. It went too far. That’s why you quit.”

  Harry looked me in the eye and uttered the words slowly, carefully. “I fell in love.”

  I looked at him in a whole new light. It made sense. From the moment I started working at DFT, Harry had spent every spare moment lecturing me on the importance of keeping a distance from clients. He told me that some women would mistake sex for love, and he was right. I’d released a few clients for that fact alone. They thought they loved me. They hadn’t even known me. They’d only known Quinn the sex machine, not Matt the person. I understood the need for distance, but now, I understood it more. “Who was she?”

  Harry picked at the food on his plate and spoke quietly. “She was just a girl. She fell in love with a guy in high school and they married at eighteen. Six months later, he was dead. An aggressive tumor in his brain killed him. She was my age, early twenties and still mourning. A couple of her friends booked her in as a surprise, and when she turned up and realized who and what I was, she burst into tears. I spent that entire hour holding her. Just holding her. And she felt perfect in my arms. I never wanted to let her go.” His jaw ticked. “That should’ve been the last appointment. I never should’ve seen her again. But when she booked another appointment a fortnight later, I accepted immediately.”

  I could see he really didn’t want to talk about this, but I couldn’t help myself. “Then what happened?”

  “The next appointment, we just talked…about everything. She said it was so good to have someone to talk to, someone who would listen. She told me I was better than a shrink. I spent the night making her laugh, because when she laughed, her eyes did too. Pretty as a picture. And when it came time to leave, I kissed her. Just once. And she let me.”

  Harry picked up his beer and sipped. “The next few appointment were just spent hanging out, kissing, cuddling. I couldn’t get enough of her. She was spending an ass-ton of money just to be with me. It felt nice, you know? She was smart, funny, and cute as hell. I wanted to keep her. Then, finally, we slept together, only it didn’t feel like sex; it felt like making love. She booked another appointment to tell me she couldn’t see me anymore, that she was falling in love with me, and she needed to let go. Everything she was saying, I was thinking, but I wasn’t strong enough to end it. I never saw her again.” He huffed out a humorless laugh. “And what was fucked up was that every appointment after that, I felt like I was cheating on her. I felt sick to my stomach. I never even spent the money she paid me. It’s still there. And so…I quit.”

  I couldn’t help but feel sadness for my friend. If anyone deserved love, it was Harry. “I’m sorry, man. That blows.” He shrugged and I asked, “You ever try to find her?”

  He sighed. “Just once. Months later, I called the friend who originally booked, asking for her phone number. It took quite a bit of convincing, and she only relented when I told her I was in love with her. The friend told me my girl felt the same and was suffering without me. You couldn’t imagine how happy I was to finally be able to speak with her. I had a plan. I would start by telling her I was in love with her and that I wanted to be with her, that I’d quit and would never be escorting again, and then I’d move to be closer to her.”

  He ran his fingers down the condensation built up on the beer bottle. “But when I called, a guy answered. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I said nothing. He kept saying ‘hello, anyone there?’ but I kept quiet. Then I heard her. And it was her. I’d committed that voice to memory. She said, ‘oh, for God’s sake, Sean! Just hang up the phone, honey.’ So I hung up and never called again.” He threw me a strained smile. “Seems she didn’t miss me as much as I was missing her.”

  I winced. “Ouch.”

  Harry shrugged once more. “Not that I could blame her for moving on. I was an escort. I was hired to keep her company. I just wished she’d given me a chance, that she’d ask me to give it up, because I would’ve. For her, I would’ve.”

  The mood of the afternoon changed after that. We ate in near silence, both lost in our own thoughts, and when I took Harry home, he exited the car then hesitated. He turned to me and said solemnly, “So this client…uh…just…be careful, Matt. Be careful.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, I responded, “I will. Thanks for the company. Basketball this week?”

  It was then his smile returned. “You know it.”

  I drove home wondering how someone like Harry could fall for a client. Thinking about Maya’s quirky and sassy attitude, the answer came quickly.

  Easily.

  Chapter Five

  Mia

  I spent the afternoon silently fretting and covering that fact by cleaning every corner of my apartment till it was sparkling. Maybe I had been wrong. Maybe Matt Quinn wasn’t man enough for the job I had propositioned.

  My brain rolled its eyes at me. Okay, so he was man enough. Matt Quinn was man enough to wrestle an alligator. With one hand tied behind his back. Wearing a damn blindfold. While singing the musical score from Chicago.

  It was likely that he didn’t want this job, but didn’t know how to break it to me. So I had to let him off without guilt.

  I opened a new email and started typing.

  To: Quinn@DFT.com

  From: Minniemouse1987@outlook.com

  Subject: So…

  Quinn,

  So…it’s been a few hours since I sent you my last email.

  Listen, I realize that taking someone’s virginity is normally a big deal, but for me, it isn’t that big of a deal.

  Groaning, I immediately deleted what I wrote. Of course losing your virginity is a big deal! Who was I kidding?

  I tried again.

  To: Quinn@DFT.com

  From: Minniemouse1987@outlook.com

  Subject: (none)

  Hi Quinn,

  I stared at the open email for a long while, not knowing where to go from the greeting. I stared for over a minute, over five minutes, over ten minutes before I started to write again.

  To: Quinn@DFT.com

  From: Minniemouse1987@outlook.com

  Subject: (none)

  Hi Quinn,

  I’m guessing your lack of response means you aren’t interested, and that’s totally fine. I know how it is.

  I’m sure I can find someone else at the agency that would be acceptable.

  Anyone you’d like to recommend?

  Maya


  I read the email over and over until I convinced myself it was fine. I clicked send, closed the lid on my laptop, and walked out of my apartment, grabbing my phone on the way.

  I wouldn’t think about Matt Quinn. Not today.

  I needed to get out.

  I needed to run.

  Chapter Six

  Quinn

  As I walked into my apartment, my eyes skimmed the email for the sixth time. I read the line that was bugging me the most for the seventh, eighth, ninth time.

  “I’m sure I can find someone else at the agency that would be acceptable.”

  My brow bunched as an emotion I couldn’t quite recognize squeezed a knot inside my chest. I’d been written off in a matter of hours.

  I was Matt fucking Quinn. I didn’t get written off. I got fought over, for Christ’s sake. There was no way in hell I’d be recommending any of the other guys. If she wanted an escort, she’d get me, or she’d get no one.

  I squelched my irrational anger and typed slowly.

  To: Minniemouse1987@outlook.com

  From: Quinn@DFT.com

  Subject: Whoa, Nelly! Hold your horses.

  Maya, my dumpling,

  Please forgive my tardy response. I was at lunch with a friend and didn’t want to be that guy. You know, that guy who’s more interested in his phone than his friend?

  Although I’d been thoroughly tempted to be that guy when I read your email.