No Strings Attached | ✓ 18+

fifteen .ೃ࿐

"Before you start spewing apologies, I don't want them." 

Clay scoffed. "Wasn't going to apologize. I'm not the piece of shit sleeping around."

It's hard to bite my tongue and not argue with him. He was right, Gina is sleeping around and there's no reason why I shouldn't agree with him. Yes, Gina and I had a year or two in the bag, but how many of those months together did she actually love me and genuinely want to be with me?

Anyway, now she's in the past and there's no point on dwelling on it. It's also difficult not to crawl back to her, because she was a comfort and safety net for me. 

"Aren't those hotel costs biting you in the ass, love?" He peered at me through his lashes as he held a half eaten croissant in his hand. 

I opened my mouth and then I closed it again. "Well...they're getting tough, yes."

Clay leaned back and took a bite of his croissant, observing me. He looked as though he was calculating, trying to figure something out. 

Suddenly, I knew where it was going.

"But, I was thinking of asking my aunt to stay with her in her apartment soon!" I quickly scrambled for a response to save myself. 

It was an unsuccessful attempt. My all-too-fake eagerness to live with my not-so-real aunt gave it away.

"You're a liar," he smirked at me.

"No, I'm not." I was blushing, a telltale sign of my terrible lying skills.

"You are. Call your auntie up right now, love." He licked his lips and his eyes sparkled dangerously, looking for a challenge. "Do it. I dare you." 

The sneaky feeling was back again. I felt out of breath, staring at him. My brain didn't know how to process the way he was looking into my eyes, searching for something, anything. I fought hard not to give into admitting that I was lying, either. 

"I can't call her right now." I barely managed to say. "She's at work. She's constantly working...at the law firm downtown."

His perfect eyebrow raised at me, I willed to keep up with my lies as long as I could. I didn't want him to think of me as someone that just uses others for a place to sleep. I was capable of finding myself a place to stay and getting back up on my feet again.

"Come on, love." He leaned over now, so that our eyes were level with each other. I felt his breath hot against my face. Or maybe it was just the blood rushing to my cheeks unexpectedly again. "Why do you feel the need to lie to me?"

"I-I told you," I took a breath. "I'm not lying." 

He feigned hurt as he pouted at me. "I suppose I won't offer you my services then. It's a shame, really. I bet that I would be a lovely roommate to have around to keep you company." He got me there and he knew it. The pout was what drew me in. 

"Fine. What do your services consist of?"

He grinned proudly as he stood up from the table. He offered me his hand after placing a twenty on the table. "How about you come with me and find out?"

[ ♡ ]

This absolutely was probably one of the worst ideas I'd ever agreed to. They always tell women to never go somewhere unattended with a man you barely know. 

But here I am, most likely going to be staying with one. If I even make it there. 

Currently, we're on the outside of the city, where most of the neighborhoods are found. We're in the particularly rich part of town, which makes me very uneasy because I'm pretty sure Clay doesn't live over here. 

To my dismay though, we roll into the driveway of a large black house. The house itself is gorgeous, not to mention the beautiful flowerbed out in the front. I had to admit, the dark colors looked so nice paired with the bright colors of the grass and the florals. I just couldn't believe this could be his. 

"We're here?" I raised my brow at him. 

"That's a silly question, love." Clay shook his head at me, a soft smile on his face. "Yes, this is my home."

I watch as he got out of the car and walked to my door, opening it for me like a gentleman. I blushed when he held out his hand, offering to help me out of the car. "Your house is gorgeous."

Clay grinned at me as we walked on the path to his front door. "Thank you, love." 

If the outside was gorgeous, the inside was, well, phenomenal. I was constantly hit with glimpses of gold, marble and beautiful dark and luscious looking furniture. The house left me in awe, I felt out of place just standing in the entryway. It had to have been professionally designed. 

When I finally got out of the feeling of astonishment over the house, I noticed that Clay was staring at me while rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Sorry. It's...well, your house is lovely." 

"Thank you." He smiled, then he began walking, gesturing at me to follow. "Quit gaping. I know you're wondering how much they pay me at the post office to afford this." 

"I'm starting to think you're a part time drug lord," I muttered, but Clay's chuckle indicated that he heard me. 

As we walked through the house, Clay showed me all of the rooms and allowed me to pick mine. Of course, I chose the one with the pretty reading nook snug in the corner. This one also happened to be directly across from his bedroom. I wasn't aware of that at the time, so I couldn't just back out of it without seeming, well, weird. 

During the tour he also explained that the house was inherited from his parents, who left for some foreign place in Europe a few years ago. He mentioned that they had gone off the grid, somewhere in a deserted place. Before their choice to go off the grid, they were business people and they were, (and still are), wonderful parents. 

"Do you still have contact with them?" I asked him as we returned downstairs. 

"Occasionally," he said, looking sort of sad. "They send me postcards and letters. It isn't necessarily considered a part of their off the grid regime, but they do it because they still want to check in from time to time." 

I nodded. 

Clay led me back into the kitchen and I sat on the island chair as he poured us both a cup of iced tea. "I don't mean to intrude on your personal life, but where are your parents?"

"My parents are dead," I shrugged as I took a sip of my iced tea. It was cold and sweet. "They both passed in a car accident when I was nine. After that, I was sent to live with my dad's sister, the only remaining family member since my grandparents were in a care home at that point. When I turned eighteen, I moved out and came here."

Clay seemed pretty shocked from how well I dealt with the whole situation. "Well, at least you weren't on terrible terms with anyone." 

I laughed as we stood up to walk toward the front door again. "Yeah, except for when my aunt found out I'm bisexual. That was a shit show." 

He held the door open for me. "I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to wrong you because of something you love," his voice was soft, as if he was meant to keep his thought in his head.