Little Stalker by Erica Pike

Coby! Let me go, you fuck!” I spend the next few second listening to
    a string of creative cursing in the spirit of his mother. He tries to yank himself free, and even
    hits me a few times, but I stubbornly hang on to him as he growls through bared teeth. I’m
    pretty sure he’d kill me if I told him how adorably cute he looks right now.
    “If you insist on selling your body, then sell it to me,” I say over his noise. “The
    whole night, whatever you charge – I’ll pay double.”
    Grayson goes quiet for a few seconds before he lets out a quick, defeated sigh. He
    stares at the ground; his brown hair obscuring his face.
    “I don’t want your money,” he says in a low voice.
    “My money’s as good as anyone’s, and I’m a hell of a lot more attractive than some
    old fat dude.”
    He closes his eyes. “But why? Because you feel guilty? I already told you I’m fine. Y-
    you said you’re not gay anyway,” he says, his voice low. He bites his lip hard, blinking away
    the moisture in his eyes.
    I gently pull him from the street to a dirty brick wall. It looks like there are only boys
    serving this street. There are a couple of girls further up, but their gait and stance look pretty guyish, so I’m not even sure they’re girls.

    My fingers twitch just before I place a hand on Grayson’s lower back. “I was wrong,”
    I whisper. “I’m so sorry, Grayson.” I take a quick glance around, but everyone seems pretty
    busy talking, cruising, or chatting up clients. I lower my head and plant a slow kiss on the top
    of his head. His soft hair tickles my cheek as I rest my face against him, and he steps into my
    arms and presses his forehead into my chest.
    “I like you,” I whisper to his shivering body. “I like you a lot, and that’s why I want
    you to come back with me.”
    He doesn’t answer, but his fists wad up the shirt on my back, and he holds on tightly.
    “I got myself so drunk last Saturday that I ended up in the hospital with alcohol
    poisoning,” I say to him, pulling him in tighter. I slip my hands under his jacket with the
    intent to warm him, but to feel his slim, tight muscles shift as he moves closer keeps my
    hands stock-still. “Um, I was dead for three days, but I’ve been trying to find you since
    Wednesday, asking everyone if they knew you. What are you studying anyway, and what’s
    your last name?”
    “Social work,” he whispers into my chest. “Mitchell.”
    It seems I’m the only one with a worthless goal in life. But I have found a new goal in
    Grayson. I’m going to take care of him.
    “You want to become a social worker?” I ask with a smile, tilting his face upward
    with my fingers under his slender jaw.
    His eyes gleam with the same want I saw last Saturday, only now there’s also a hint of
    hurt. I lower my face to his, licking his lips before I kiss him deeply. He moans weakly into
    my mouth when our tongues touch, and I pull him as close as I can, feeling the bump in his
    pants pressed against my thigh.
    “Go get a room,” someone shouts from behind me.
    I break this kiss and look down at my little stalker. He has that adorable dazed
    expression on his face, his lips extra red from being kissed.
    “Come with me?” I ask with a small smile. “We’ll grab a bite before we go home.”
    “Okay,” he whispers.

    ***

    Somewhere in the early hours of the morning, I wake up when I bump into something
    that’s not supposed to be in my bed.
    Not again...

    I push at the slumbering thing lying next to me.
    “Get up,” I grumble, wondering if I should wait a little longer to throw her out
    because I don’t have a hangover, but figuring it’s best to get it over with.
    When the body doesn’t move, I raise myself up to see a mop of dark hair, face buried
    under the comforter.
    “Hey, you need to leave,” I say with sleep in my voice, nudging the body again.
    “Yeah, okay,” the person mumbles with equal sleep in their boyish voice. “I’m
    leaving.”
    A