Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
Kieran
My phone vibrated against the counter, and I abandoned what I was doing to read the text that had just come through.
Confirmation received.
Seconds later, my phone vibrated again. After swiping out of the message, I went into another app that required two fingerprints for verification. Once that was complete, I watched the numbers in my account rise by several million dollars.
Closing all the applications, I set aside the phone and went back to the steak I was cooking. I didn’t need to reply. I was paid for a job, not unnecessary chatter.
Once the sirloin was broiled to perfection, I plated it up with a side of roasted potatoes and sat at the counter with a glass of Montepulciano d’Abruzzo. The TV was on behind me, but I barely glanced at it, instead enjoying my meal and the completion of another successful job.
If twenty-year-old me could see me now, he’d ask me why I sold out. I was a pompous little shit ten years ago. As I drained my wine, I smirked.
I didn’t sell out. I’m just for sale to the highest bidder.
I was idealistic at twenty, but now, at thirty, I was realistic. Which was why I was at home alone instead of celebrating with friends.
Friends. I didn’t have those. I didn’t want them. People were a disappointment and better left as acquaintances. Or one-night stands.
Pushing away my empty plate, I side-eyed my cell.
It had been a while since I’d indulged in one of those.
The job I’d just finished took longer than expected, and I hadn’t wanted any distractions.
But it was over now, and with nothing on the books for a couple weeks, a fuck seemed like a damn good idea.
I could go down to the club, find someone there, but I wasn’t in the mood for socialization.
I wanted a body in my bed, not conversation.
After cleaning up my dinner mess, I carried my phone into the living room and sprawled on the couch. The old movie playing on the flatscreen cast light and shadows around the dim room. Scrolling through my apps, I came to the one I wanted and scoffed.
Heart2Heart. What a stupid name. As if people actually found love on there. People weren’t looking to connect with someone’s heart. They were looking for something more satisfying. Like dick.
Or maybe not. I guess that depended on their orientation.
I was gay, so my preferences were set to men.
Maybe some people needed the hope of finding love on an app like this, hence the romantic name. In my line of work, hope was for the weak. And name aside, the app was a good one. I’d been using it for several months since I’d heard about it and always found what I was looking for.
After loading it up, I searched for men near me and then went a step farther and narrowed it down to those currently online. A fair number of profiles came up, one of the many benefits of living in the city.
I scrolled through a few, dismissing them almost the second I saw them. For a man who just wanted to get off, I shouldn’t have been so picky, but now that I was on the prowl, I wanted something specific. I just wasn’t sure what it was yet. But I’d know it when I saw it.
A profile caught my eye—@mister_right_now—and it made me smirk.
I took a moment to scroll through the album of photos he had saved.
He had a nice body, lithe and defined. His nipples were pink, and his belly button was pierced.
His hair was bleach blond and the pout he pulled in every photo was fake, but if I fucked him in the dark, I wouldn’t have to look at either.
My finger hovered over the message button, but before I could ask him if he was interested, a message notification flashed onto my screen. Curious, I tapped it, and the screen shifted into a private message.
@IntrovertedVibes: Hi. Are you available tonight?
Direct. I liked it.
@MidnightHookup: I might be. What do you have in mind?
Three bubbles appeared and then disappeared. Then again. I was about to click back to the previous profile I was checking out when his reply popped up.
@IntrovertedVibes: Whatever you want.
My hand tightened around my phone, and a rush of desire swept through me.
@IntrovertedVibes: Can you pick me up?
I scoffed. First, he acted like he was at my disposal, and then he asked for something?
@MidnightHookup: I prefer to meet.
@IntrovertedVibes: Oh.
Oh?
@MidnightHookup: You said whatever I want.
The text bubbles started appearing and disappearing again as if he were flustered, but his direct approach before seemed to not fit with that.
@IntrovertedVibes: You can have whatever you want after you pick me up.
A laugh burst out of me, the sudden sound echoing through my empty apartment. Who the hell was this guy?
I clicked on his username, which, by the way, did not track with his directness either, and when his profile loaded, I sucked in a breath.
He didn’t have an album of photos like the guy before him. In fact, he had only one. But it was enough.
The innocence in his face knocked me back against the couch cushions. The picture captured only his head and shoulders, but the naivety staring back at me was frankly something I thought failed to exist in adults.
That thought had me looking for his age, and when I found it and saw he was definitely legal, I went back to stare at the photo once more.
His oval face with its square chin was softened by the roundness of his cheeks and pert nose.
His pink lips stretched into a smile, and a dimple indented his left cheek.
I kept going back to his eyes, though, which were just as rare as the innocence pouring out of him.
Heterochromia, a condition I’d only seen one other time.
And that time, the person had one brown eye and one yellow.
It had been unsettling and, frankly, unattractive.
But here I was, captivated by his one blue eye and one green, both colors undiluted and clear. Like he’s untainted by life. And if that weren’t enough, his almost sweet look was capped with wild brown hair that definitely needed a cut and couldn’t decide if it was curly or straight.
An overwhelming sense of anger punched me right in the chest, the heat of it spreading out along my limbs. How dare he pretend to be so innocent? He’d literally just propositioned me. And asked for a ride.
Granted, his innocence was far more believable than that fake pout in that other profile I’d been considering. At least that guy made it obvious he was just pretending. But this? This was plain manipulative.
I tapped on our message thread, bringing it back on screen.
@IntrovertedVibes: Hello?
@MidnightHookup: I’m not in the mood for games.
@IntrovertedVibes: I’m not playing games.
@MidnightHookup: Yeah? Call an Uber then.
I went to close out of the chat, but his reply beat me to it.
@IntrovertedVibes: Wait!
I sneered.
@IntrovertedVibes: Please, I’m desperate. I can’t stay here.
For the first time in a really long time, curiosity got the best of me, and before I could think better of it, my fingers were already typing out a reply.
@MidnightHookup: Where are you?
@IntrovertedVibes: The hospital.
I felt my eyes narrow on the screen.
@MidnightHookup: Explain.
Three dots appeared and then disappeared, and I let out a low growl of impatience.
@IntrovertedVibes: I got into an accident, okay? I hit my head, and now they won’t let me leave unless I have someone to help me. But I can’t stay here. Just come tell them you’re my boyfriend. They’ll let me leave, and then I’ll give you what you want.
I was not a man surprised by much, but the word vomit I was currently staring at on this dating app left me incredulous.
@IntrovertedVibes: 4th floor. Room 404.
@MidnightHookup: No.
Like hell I was going to get dragged into some drama by a manipulative little shit. Not only did he want a ride, but he wanted me to pretend to be his boyfriend? And offered sex as payment?
@MidnightHookup: Are you a prostitute?
@IntrovertedVibes: What? No!
@IntrovertedVibes: I just don’t have anyone.
The image of his wide, innocent eyes flashed behind my eyelids, and something unpleasant coiled in my stomach.
@MidnightHookup: You don’t have me either.
I waited for him to reply. To see what absurdity he’d come out with next. I wondered how far he’d go to get what he wanted. Seconds stretched into minutes and no reply came. Not even the annoying appearing and disappearing text bubbles.
He’d left me on read.