Jayne Rylon

Kaden Finch is kissing me.

And it’s like nothing I’ve experienced before.

A wonderful concept. Genius, really. I wonder if they need venture capital to grow their operations. Another mental note for my time in the office.

I’m finally ready. I think. Mostly.

I pause every day to admire how we look together.

So right. And yet…

Hell, once he even stopped a robbery at a convenience store we happened to be buying condoms at in the early morning hours then acted like it was nothing.

“Hang on. You top that guy? Are you shitting me?”

I’ll tread carefully, because one wrong step could crush my soul and theirs along with it.

Bad enough I’d gotten fucking depressed, like actually clinically depressed, for the first time in my life.

I came dangerously close to splattering into total road kill, even picking up a few bad habits. You know, like drinking alone until I blacked out and smoking pot more than recreationally to help forget.

“I have a rush fee option, but I warn you, it’s steep.”

He doesn’t hesitate or flinch. “I’ll pay you double.”

“For twenty grand I’ll make time whenever you need me.”