CHAPTER 5

It's official.

Skyler is the biggest idiot in the world.

Maybe Drystan sucked her brains out through her nether lips because how could she forget the fact that she was a measly escort whose life revolved around hiding her identity?

How could she pass out at someone else's house? Drystan doesn't even know her real name. Thankfully, she had woken up five minutes later while Drystan was wiping her clean, a satisfied smirk on his face, and she had allowed herself to burn in the embarrassment of leaving him high and dry and floating off to dreamland.

But Drystan told her he wasn't expecting her to return the favor. She, of course, took it to heart because "What do you mean you don't want me to blow you?" Her pride was hurt. But then he had given her his signature smirk, kissed her softly on the lips as he told her he wanted her just as much. He wanted to give her time to process what happened between them, as it was her first time experiencing submission like that. If he had noticed her slipping into subspace, he didn't mention it.

And maybe she had melted a tiny bit at his thoughtfulness.

Thankfully, the storm had passed, and Drystan was able to drive her to the city, where she got off on the block they mostly use as a buffer when clients are dropping them off. From there, she took the metro home and allowed herself to soak in the events of the night.

The amount of control she handed to Drystan, the way she allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of a complete stranger, rings warning bells in her brain. She has never allowed herself to be so unreserved with anyone, and that scares her. So she has come to two conclusions: Drystan is the literal embodiment of her fantasies, and that she has to stay far, far away from him if she wants to save herself.

She is lost in her thoughts as she trudges through the campus, holding her thick civil law book, headphones on as Katseye's "Mean Girls" blares in her ears.

She doesn't realize she has stepped onto the road until a car screeches to a halt in front of her, the sound of brakes being pushed reaching her before the impact. She goes plummeting onto the pavement, her foot getting twisted at a weird angle as she falls, books, bag, and headphones crashing down beside her as she yelps, instant tears clouding her eyes.

She looks up as Alexander steps out of his black Porsche Spyder, "Ms. Fye, what were you thinking crossing the road like that? I almost killed you." his voice doesn't rise, but the tension in his face is telling enough about his anger. His jaw locked, forest green eyes chilly when he pulls off his shades. "Fuck, are you okay?" He kneels next to her, eyes clouded with concern and frustration.

She blinks away her tears, wiping her hands on her jeans as she tries to stand, only to yelp, her left foot stinging in unbearable pain. Alexander approaches her then, forest greens telling her not to move as he grabs her ankle, she hisses when his hand closes around the girth of it, muscles in pain. "I think you have sprained your ankle," He sighs, eyes no longer chilly as he urges her up. "Let me take you to the hospital."

"You don't have to, sir." She says, a hint of bitterness bleeding in her tone. "It's my bad. I can call my friend to take me, I'm sure you have better things to do," Her eyes remain downcast as she gathers her things, mind reeling over the date she is scheduled to have in three days and how she will manage it with a sprained ankle.

"It is your fault. One of these days, your carelessness will cost you your life," He hisses, and she looks at her feet, the blue paint stain on her yellow sneakers particularly interesting. She feels like a petulant child under his scolding while she sits on the pavement as he picks up her things, looking like the rich, attractive bachelor he is, curly brown hair styled to perfection atop his head, wearing a tailored grey suit that hugs his frame, and looking down at her with that disapproving forest gaze.

"But I can't leave you here," he says resolutely as he packs her things in her bag before looping it over his shoulder. "Come," he holds his large hand out for her, the blue Patek peeking through his suit sleeve.

Her ankle stings the more time she spends stalling, her eyes stinging with new tears as she bites her lip in thought. At a distance, she sees two girls sitting on a bench, coffees in hand, as they watch them curiously. She must look like an idiot to them, still on her butt, her ankle swelling as she does everything but look at the hand held out in front of her. Finally, she nods, placing her small hand in Alexander's large one, hazel eyes meek as they meet forest green orbs.

That's how she finds herself at the hospital, apple juice in hand, courtesy of Alexander, who has gone to check on her X-ray reports. He made sure to bring her into the most pricey hospital in the city, and she is tweaking thinking about the medical bills. Although the doctor said it's most likely a sprained ankle, Alexander had insisted they get an X-ray just to be certain.

She anxiously bites her lip, leaning against the hospital bed as she dials Nikolai's number. He picks up on the third ring, hoarse voice filtering through her ear speaker, "You better be dying, babe or I'll send you there for waking me up from my precious nap," she allows herself to feel a bit guilty, knowing her best friend he must be catching up on some much needed rest after his night shift at the stripclub where he works as a bouncer.

"I'm so sorry, Nik," she starts, her voice lowering when she watches Alexander enter the room, his suit jacket draped over his arm now. "But can you come to the hospital to fetch me? I was in a minor accident." She almost stops speaking when she meets Alexander's green gaze across the room, a perfect eyebrow rising to her words. "Um, I… I think my ankle is sprained."

She hears shuffling on the other end, the slam of a door, "Send me your location, I'll be right there," Nikolai, being the sweetheart he is, replies, and she would have taken a long, calming breath if it weren't for Alexander's disapproving gaze.

"Okay, love you," she whispers over the phone, hears Nikolai return the words before she cuts the call. When she looks up, Alexander's expression is closed off, she jaw locked as he looks out of the window. "Sir, uh, you don't have to stay here anymore, I've asked a friend to come," She says softly, not wanting to come across as ungrateful but also not wanting to withhold him from his day any longer. "I'm sorry about everything." Shame must be the most prevalent of emotions she feels, always following her with red dusting her cheeks and anxiety gripping her heart.

Alexander turns to her after a pause, much surer in his step as he approaches her bed. Skyler sits up, hazel eyes reverent like that of someone looking at their role model. "You don't have to apologise, Miss Fye. It's my fault as much as it is yours," his words are soft, eyes softer, and Skyler allows herself to preen in the softness, letting go of the breath she was holding finally.

She wonders what the flutter in her heart means as Alexander pats her head, "I'll take my leave then. Be careful, alright?" Her heart squeezes in longing as Alexander turns to leave, his footsteps echoing in the silent room.

"Sir… Alexander," The desperation in her voice is ill-placed, so is the beat of her heart, which drums a mile a minute against her ribcage. Alexander turns, looking at her with those long green eyes and a patient expression. "Thank you," she whispers, red dusting her cheeks.

"You're welcome." The softest purr she's heard from him yet. She's willing to trade anything to have him talk to her in that voice as she falls asleep, the husk in his voice so smooth, it's like butter. "I'll see you in class." She can't help but compare his voice to Drystan's, whose voice seems to rumble out of his chest, so deep you can drown in it.

"Yes, sir. Bye," She whispers as he closes the door behind him, thoughts of Drystan and him filtering into her head until she can hear them together, Alexander's smooth husk overpowered by Drystan's gruff baritone.

She hates herself.

Especially when she feels her thighs clench at the thought.

*