Only You

Chapter 8

Alexey

I hate to see that defeated, broken look on Elora's face, hate to think about how someone hurt her enough to create that, and hate that I'm the one that put it on her face just now. Fuck, when she jumped off me, her breathing uneven and a pained look on her face as she slid down the wall, my stomach hollowed out in an instant. Even now I feel like I could throw up.

"What happened?" I ask again, knowing I don't have the right to demand answers but also needing and wanting to help too bad to stop myself.

"It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have done this, I'm sorry for having wasted your time," she says, not making me feel any better at all. Where the hell did her animated, bright voice go and how do I get it back?

I shouldn't care. She's a client, after all, and when she tells me to leave, I should really do that. No questions asked. I usually would but there's just something keeping me in place.

After thinking about it for a moment, I ask, "Why did you?"

"What?" she asks, finally looking at me now that I've at least surprised her a little.

"Why did you set up this date?"

"I," she starts but breaks off, searching my eyes as if calculating how much to tell me. I wait patiently, willing to take whatever scraps she offers. "I can't be touched. I mean, I can. Sometimes. Like before. But it's not enough," she says, barely clearing up anything.

"Okay," I say slowly, my eyebrows furrowing. "But then why would you set up this date?" I ask again, trying to sound as gentle as possible.

She blows out a breath. "Because I thought if I could be in control, I could do it."

"It?" I prod.

"Sex, Alexey," she exclaims rather exasperatedly. Not that I mind, at least there's some kind of emotion in her voice.

I blink at her, knowing this isn't professional behavior at all. Yet, I go on. "So you've never?" I trail off, letting her fill in the gap for herself. She averts her eyes and shakes her head and though I hate thinking I'm making her uncomfortable, I keep asking.

"How old?" I ask, referring to the source of why she reacted the way she did before.

She swallows, letting her head loll to the side to lean against the wall, and answers, "It first started when I was six," she tells me numbly.

I grit my teeth, something ugly chewing at my insides as I try to understand what she's saying. Something happened to her when she was six. Fuckin hell, that's the age of the twins. "How long?" I ask harsher than intended. I really need to find my chill, or at least pretend. Otherwise, I'll scare her off.

"'Til I was thirteen." I close my eyes briefly, sighing as I question what the hell I am doing here and why I seem unable to even consider leaving this beautiful, broken stranger.

"Who?" I ask, not sure what else to do but ask more questions.

But this time, she shakes her head, telling me, "No."

"What did he do?" I try instead, quickly regretting it when she squeezes her eyes shut and tips her head slightly. She shakes her head tiredly.

"Please," she whispers, the sound slicing right through my heart.

"I'm not forcing you to do anything, Elora. I want to help you, but if you think this won't do, then don't feel pressured to say another word," I insist.

"How could you help me?" she asks in return to which I have no answer better than a shrug.

"Perhaps if I knew your triggers, we could work something out?" I propose without thinking. By the time I realize what I've offered, it's too late to take the words back. Therefore there's nothing for me to do but await her reply.

"I have a scar on my hip. I guess that's what triggered me today. I don't know what else, though. It's not like- He never-" she breaks off softly bumping her head back against the wall. "The internet said to take my time and try with someone I trust," she eventually says, distaste clear in her voice.

"So why don't you try that?" It sounds like the very opposite of what she tried here with me.

"Because I don't have time," she snaps before sighing. "Sorry. It's just been stressing me out a bit but it's not your fault. I don't have anyone in my life like that. Someone I trust and whom I could be intimate with and I figured I would feel safe in a professional environment," she clarifies.

"And did you? Feel safe?"

She nods slowly and I do the same to myself, knowing I'm about to jump head-first into something I don't have the time or capacity to take on for.

"Maybe I can help you," I repeat. "We could take things slow. And you'd talk to me," I offer. I'm aware that it's a bad idea but I am already heading full speed toward the cliff. Now it's only a question of whether I'll make it to the other side or crash and fall.

At that, a small smile tugs at her lips. "I'd be your regular," she says, making me smile, if only because I'm glad she's amused. "Why would you do that?"

"Why wouldn't I? First off, you are easily the most beautiful date I've ever had and we got along well enough. Second, I think I might be able to help you so it's worth a try, isn't it?"

I can already see myself crashing and falling down the cliff. A hundred alarm bells are going off in my mind. I barely know this girl, after all. I should probably cut my losses and leave before things have a chance to get messy. What am I even offering? Meeting up with a beautiful girl, again and again, talking and messing around? It sounds like the starter kit for disaster.

I should feel bad for even proposing it, taking advantage of the situation she is in, and charging her for it. Especially seeing as she genuinely intrigues me, this proposition is anything other than professional. But I don't have time to date and I can't afford to lose this job. Not with so many bills still unpaid. Plus, I am helping her, after all. I could almost convince myself that this is a mutually beneficial deal.

Elora doesn't seem to be following my train of thought as she slowly starts nodding. "I think that could actually work," she says slowly, more to herself than me.

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Thoughts on this deal? Good or bad idea?
Have a great day and please leave a vote<3