Chapter 7

• AMY'S POV
• I seethed with anger at the red dot on my arm where the doctor had administered the birth control shot. My skin still cringed at the cold, icy alcohol swab, but it wasn't the shot that made me feel so empty in my chest. That was just the result of my choices.
• "Avoid sex for a week at least, for the shots to be effective," said the doctor in that professional tone that never failed to make me nauseous.
• I nodded, thanked him, and walked out of the clinic with this strange numbness.
• Of course, Liam had it all planned out. Even after I'd consented, it felt like some other part of my body beyond my control. I should be thanking my lucky stars that I would not have to face the consequences of last night, yet I still felt drained.
• I needed a drink.
• I stopped at the liquor store and grabbed a bottle of wine to bring home. I couldn’t talk to anyone about this, but at least I could celebrate with Britney. I'd done what I'd originally set out to do. I was fulfilling my dream, That was the goal, wasn't it?
• When I got back to my apartment, Britney wasn't home. Her apartment door was shut, the light was off. I frowned. She'd shoved me into this in the first place, telling me this was a good idea. And now that it was done, where was she?
• Anyway, I wasn't in the mood for her hyperactivity and smug, “I told you so.”
• Slipping off my shoes, I poured myself a wine glass—and then changed my mind and picked up the bottle. I didn't need to drink. I needed to drown.
• I collapsed into my couch and took a long drag, the bitter flavour running down the back of my throat. My mind flashed back to the event at the office, where I teased Liam from under his desk. How he did not bat an eye in front of his secretary. I tried to imagine the look in his eyes when he tried hard to control and not embarrass himself in front of him.
• That was satisfying. An evil smile appeared on my lips and took another drag in.
• And what he'd done afterward. How he'd teased me relentlessly, drove me to the edge, only to leave me hanging at the final moment. My stomach plummeted and a frown creased my brow.
• "Fucking bastard," I growled, raising the bottle to my mouth to continue drinking.
• I resented being able to still feel him on me. Hated how my body reacted to the memory of his touch. That smirk of victory and self-satisfaction on his lips. That effect of his deep voice when he leaned in close to whisper in my ears.
• I groaned, thrusting my head into the couch. I needed to stop thinking about him.
• Perhaps that was the issue. I was treating it as if it was something shameful. Something to be guilty about.
• What if I didn't?
• What if I forgot the notion that this was some kind of trade and simply enjoyed it?
• The idea made me uncomfortable.
• If I was doing it—if I was already there—then maybe I should just let myself go. No shame. No regret. Just pleasure.
• I leaned forward and set the bottle of wine on the table. Could I? Could I really accept this as my life now and just get the most out of it?
• I hadn't even had time to consider it yet when the phone buzzed, bringing me out of my reverie.
• I checked the screen. It was a text from Liam.
• I gritted a sigh. What does he want now?
• I didn't get to open the message when a loud, furious, pounding on my door frightened me.
• I leapt and whirled toward the door.
• Who the heck—
• I didn't even make it halfway to the door before I heard someone yelling from the other side. "Amy! Open the door! It's Britney.”
• I muttered under my breath and rolled my eyes. Of course.
• Britney was my next door neighbour and best friend for three years now, the one who had managed to convince me to accept the offer in the first place. Britney was a storm of noise, drama, and unapologetic self-expression. She was the kind of woman who burst into a room and made herself the centre of attention.
• With green-eyed blinding flash like fire crackers and perfect body shape and a wardrobe that was itself a montage of statement pieces and colour-blinding brilliance, Britney was not to be underestimated, She was an actress who had taken up many unimportant movie roles just to push herself out there. She was the kind of woman who never gave up, and sometimes I wished that I was the kind of woman too.
• I pushed my hair back and breathed deep before I unlocked the door.
• "Congratulations, girlfriend!"
• Confetti was falling over my head and I gagged in shock as Britney was laughing and still clutched a wee party popper between her fingers.
• I glared at her. "What the heck, Britney?"
• She held my face in her palms, grinning wildly. "What? You don't think I should celebrate the crowning glory of my best friend? You are now the new face of Lords of Fashion! Do you know what this means?” she said with her excitement all over the place.
• She pushed me aside and moved into the apartment with dreamy eyes. "Amy, sweetheart, your face will be featured on billboards all over New York City! Think about it, darling! You'll have all the rest of them red with envy! Models would kill to be you!"
• She spun in my tiny living room, rattling her huge earrings.
• I closed the door and followed in inside. "Britney—"
• "Wait, wait, wait." She held up her hand. And then, she pulled out a bottle of champagne from the spigot-lipped bag she'd been carrying.
• "Tada!" she yelled. "I grabbed this on my way back. We have to celebrate in style.”
• I looked over at the half-full wine bottle on my coffee table.
• Britney stared at me and followed my gaze.
• Her eyes widened in shock, and her mouth opened into a gasp. "Amy! How could you?” she clutched her chest in a dramatic way.
• I massaged my temples. "Brit—
• “Don’t," She scrunched up her face and folded her arms. "Celebrating with you was all I could think about throughout the day, but you were already celebrating alone.” she narrowed her eyes at me and I could sense how hurt she was.
• I was too exhausted to explain myself. I walked past her and collapsed on the couch. “I’m sorry, Brit,” I muttered in a low tone, relaxing my head on the couch with my eyes closed.
• I felt the atmosphere shift in the room, then heard the sound of Britney kicking her heels off.
• "Amy?" She collapsed down beside me.
• "You sound off. Is something wrong?”
• I swallowed awkwardly.
• She hesitated before speaking again. "You… you didn't turn down the offer, did you?"
• I gazed up at her.
• Britney's face twisted into a scowl of worry, her tough street façade wavering momentarily between words.
• “Of course not.” I gave her a nudge, “Who in their right mind would reject that kind of offer.” I chuckled, and she laughed along, placing a hand on her chest as a sign of relief, but there was still a hint of concern in her expression.
• Britney's smile wavered. She glared at me with her slit green eyes. "Are you… regretting it?"