Chapter 3: The best I ever had.

(Ashley’s pov)

We sat in the living room on one of the funky styled L shaped couch just looking at each other and taking everything in.  I had already drunk one bottle of red wine and now I’m working on another one.  Strange enough, Spencer didn’t want any alcohol to drink, she asked for juice or a soda.   

“Okay, let’s play the question game.  I’ll ask you a question and you answer it.  Once I answer, it’ll be your turn to ask me a question, simple as that.  But make sure you ask good question because you only get 5.  Also, try to answer every question as honestly as possible.”

Spencer nods her head while sipping on the Dr. Pepper I gave her earlier, and gives me a sign that I can start.

“How did you end up like this?  I mean, how did you become a prostitute, what lead you to that type of life?”  I feel a little guilty making this the first question, but I only have 5 so I can’t afford to waste a question asking about her favorite color.

“Whoa!  You don’t waste anytime getting to the serious, intent stuff, do ya?”   I smiled at her teasing, happy that I didn’t offend her.

“I’ll tell you the short, less painful version. My mother kicked me out of the house once I came out to her.  I had no place to go to so I decided to make a fresh start here in New York.  As a high school drop-out with no experience, I didn’t have many choices.  So I finally let my friend Skye help me out and to make a short story shorter, I started working for her pimp.” 

The guilt I felt for asking her that question deepened once I saw the look of utter sadness and pain blanket her features.  I assumed that she probably had a hard life but to be kicked out onto the street just because she’s gay.  What type of mother does that to her own child?  And although I shouldn’t feel giddy at this moment…Yay, she’s gay just like me!

“Okay, my turn.  Why did you hire a hooker? I can’t believe that someone as gorgeous as you has a difficult time getting women into your bed.”   As soon as the words left her mouth, she begins to blush and divert her eyes away from mine as if she just realized what she had said.  She thinks I’m gorgeous.  If only she knew what I thought of her.

“Well basically my manager didn’t like the fact that I slept with groupies, especially since a lot of them were under 18.”  I hesitated, wondering if I should tell her the next reason.  If I want her to be honest with me, I have to be honest with her as well. 

“Something else also happened that made me go this route.  I was hit with a complaint of rape by a stupid mother who said that I raped her daughter.  Of course I didn’t rape her daughter, trust me when I say she was ready, willing, and able.  We settled out of court for $100, 000.  After that, my manager suggested that I stay low, under the radar for a while and just pay a hooker, like you, for those types of needs.  Besides, I can still sleep with groupies but they have to be 18 and over.  I practically have to ask for ID before I fuck someone.”  I look up smiling sheepishly at Spencer and notice she’s not smiling.  In fact, I think I see a slight frown. 

Oh shit, what the hell was I thinking?  I just called her a hooker.  I reach out and place my hand under her chin, lightly bringing her eyes up to mine.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you a hooker.”