“Don’t you think you should at least get dressed?”“Don’t you think you should at least give me my shirt then?” -Cash”

“You’re not imposing on me. I don’t mind.”“I’d really rather not bother you. Really. I’ll just see you tonight.”“Get dressed. Be ready. I’ll be there in ten.”With that, he hangs up, giving me no choice in the matter.”

“I can’t stop thinking about doing this to you,” he whispers, so quietly I can barely hear him. “Tell me to stop now if you don’t want this. If you don’t want me.”

“I’m lying on Cash’s chest, tracing his tattoo.“What does this mean?” I whisper.“It’s the Chinese symbol for awesome,” he teases lightly.I giggle. “If it’s not, which I imagine it isn’t, then it should be.”“Are you paying me a compliment? I just want to be sure, so I don’t miss it.”I slap his ribs. “You make it sound like I’m mean and horrible because I don’t throw myself at your feet.”“You don’t have to throw yourself at my feet. Although if you want to, I’m sure I can think of something for you to do while you’re down there.”I look up at him and he’s waggling his eyebrows again.“I’m sure you could.” Shaking my head, I settle back onto his chest and resume tracing the ink shapes. “Seriously, what do they mean?”Cash is quiet for so long I begin to think he’s not going to answer me. But then he finally speaks.“It’s a collage of things that remind me of my family.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to send you an honest stripper. Just a willing one.”(Cash)”

“What the hell do you want from me?” “What are you trying to do to me?”“Stop! Just stop!” he spits.“Why? What else needs to be said? I think you’ve told me enough lies for a lifetime.”“No more lies,” he says angrily. “I don’t even want to talk to you anymore. I just want to hear you tell me that you don’t feel anything for me. That you want me to leave you alone and never come back. Then I’ll go. If that’s what you really want, I’ll go.”“Don’t. Please don’t say it.”“Why?”“Because I don’t want you to. I need you to come back to me. Not to help me. Or to help my father. I’m done with that. I don’t want your help. It all boils down to you. I just want you.”“I just want you.”“Okay.”

“How did you get my number anyway?”“Some asshole named Nash.”“Asshole?”“Yeah, asshole. Don’t tell me you don’t think he’s an asshole!”I laugh uncomfortably. “Um, no I don’t think he’s an asshole. He’s always been nice to me.”asshole. He’s always been nice to me.”“Of course he has. You’re gorgeous. What man wouldn’t be nice to you?”“Plenty.”“Assholes, all of them,” he teases.“They’re assholes, too?”“Yep.”“Is everyone an asshole today?”“Yep,” he repeats. “Word of the day toilet paper.”I laugh, genuinely this time. “Is that right?”