I feel a light kiss on my bare shoulder blade. "Eleanor," I hear Micah mutter into my ear.

I'm not really awake yet so I don't move, I just respond with a half-dead "hmmm?" kind of groaning sound so that he knows that I'm vaguely aware of the fact that he's talking to me.

"You have a lot of books," I feel him resting his head on my back and I can feel feathery wisps of his hair brushing against my skin whenever he moves. "And you're not waking up so I'm going to start reading some of them, alright?"

I do have a shelf of poetry collections beside my bed but there's a ton of them so it's not like he can identify my favorite authors or poems so I don't mind if he reads them. "Sure," I mumble into the pillow, still feeling too tired to move from my comfortable position in my bed.

I feel him lift his head off of my back and then the bed moves as he leans toward the shelf to grab a book to read while I find it in myself to start waking up some more.

"Oh, this one looks mysterious, it doesn't have a title or anything," Micah says as he finds a book that seems to interest him. I just keep my eyes closed and listen to him flip some of the pages of the book that he's chosen to read. "I don't see an author either."

"It's mine, don't read it," I say when I realize that it's probably the book that I have on the shelf of the poetry that I've written. It's not very good, not meant to be shared, and just a way to vent what's in my head. I finally start moving and I turn around in the bed to look at him. The book is already open but he's looking at me now.

"I thought that you didn't write your own stuff," He says but he closes the book, which I appreciate, and he hands it to me without questioning it.

"I lied," I admit to him.

"Why?"

"Because it's not supposed to be read," I explain to him, putting it in the drawer of my nightstand just so that he can find another one on the bookshelf if he still wants to read something and he doesn't accidentally read this one again. "It's just some bullshit that I write down to get it out of my head."

"I want to hear your bullshit," He informs me. I pull the sheet with me as I get up because I'm still naked from the night we spent together last night. I'm only wearing some panties but that's it. I head toward the bathroom to clean up quickly and then hopefully, we can cuddle for the rest of the day.

"Not today," I tell him from the bathroom. I go to the bathroom, brush my teeth, and wash my face before I come back out into the living room where I lay back in bed beside Micah. "Just lay down with me and cuddle."

He does as I ask and wraps his arms around my still-naked body. "Are you ever going to write about me?"

"If you give me something to write about."

"I haven't given you anything to write about?" He asks me, rolling me over so that I'm straddling him.

"Are you talking about the sex?" I ask him with a small laugh. "Do you want me to write a poem about your penis?"

"Alright, well when you say it like that, it sounds creepy," Micah admits, putting his hands on my waist as I lean down and kiss him very quickly.

"It does sound creepy," I agree with him. "And I don't write about things that make me happy, I write to vent. It's not even good, it just makes me feel calmer."

"I think that you're too hard on yourself," He accuses me. "I bet that it's great."

"Isn't today Friday?" I ask him when I realize that he's a student so he probably has classes today. "Don't you have class?"

"I only have a lecture tonight at five," Micah says. "Unless you want to get rid of me."

"I don't," I assure him. "I missed hanging out with you."

"Really?" He looks skeptical.

"Yes, really," I nod. "I didn't think that I'd miss it so much but I did. I'm glad that you came begging for another shot."

"I wouldn't say that I had to beg. I think you were pretty eager for me to show up," He defends himself.

"Let's not talk about the details," I move on as I lean down farther and I press my lips to his again because his lips are so soft. I feel like last night and this morning, we're just living on a cloud together. A lovely, amazing cloud. But soon, we'll have to come down and I'm not ready for that. I just want to stay up here forever with him but I know that reality has to hit me in the face again. Right now, I'm just going to enjoy being with him though without getting so pessimistic about everything. "What we do need to talk about is what we are."

"What are we?" He asks me.

"You tell me," I refuse to answer that question first. I don't know what we are. Exclusive? I'm not entirely sure that I can be exclusive with anybody considering my profession. I've distanced the two acts—having sex because I want to and having sex because I'm paid to—so it doesn't even seem like the same thing to me. So in my eyes, it isn't cheating. However, I'm sure that Micah would not agree with that statement.

"Well, I guess that this was about our third date," He rests his hands on my bare waist, just above my panties. "So I think that it's okay to put labels on it. If that's okay with you. Is that what you want?"

"Like boyfriend/girlfriend?" I raise my eyebrows at him. "That's... a lot of pressure. Not like... I mean, not in a bad way, I guess. I feel like there's a lot of expectations there though. I think that couples are supposed to share a lot of things that I'm not so ready to share."

"I'll be patient," He promises me. "I know that it could be hard because I have school and you have work but I really like you and you're so clearly obsessed with me so I'm sure that we can make it work. Maybe it's typical for couples to share everything but we don't have to be typical."

I like the way that he's looking at me. Like I'm so important to him and that he would want to spend forever on this cloud with me like I want to with him. I don't think that anybody has ever seen me before and certainly, nobody has ever looked at me like that. It's addicting to be wanted so badly. Especially when I also want that person so badly.

"Okay," I finally agree with him. "Sure, let's put labels on it then."

I know that it's a bad idea but I've known that this is a bad idea since the moment he offered to buy me a drink at the hotel bar. Once he finds out what I do to make money, he'll never talk to me again. Worse than that, he'll be hurt. He's such a great guy, he doesn't deserve to be hurt like that.

But I've been hurt so badly so many times that I can't help but be a little bit selfish here because he makes me feel good, inside and out. I can't let him go.

He grins up at me and kisses my lips. This time, the kiss lasts longer and it's deeper than the few lighter ones before it.

"How are you going to balance all of this out?" I ask him, lifting myself up and away from his lips before the kiss can get too intense. "I mean, you have school and you have the politics with your family. You're still going to hang out with Jay and then you have to hang out with me separately. I mean, that's a lot to keep track of."

"I'll handle it," He promises me. "I usually see Jay at the political events anyway so that's how we hang out. It's killing two birds with one stone, really."

"I work most weekend nights," I warn him. "So we can see each other on weekends during the days. Law school has to be intense so probably not during the week so much."

"Eleanor," His hands start moving closer to my butt. "Don't worry so much about my schedule, alright? We'll make this work, I promise."

"Alright," I know that I'm getting a little bit pessimistic by trying to think of all of the things that could go wrong with this but I'm just not used to things going well for me. Other than him finding out about me being an escort, I have to prepare for what else can go wrong with this relationship so that when something does happen, I can handle it. "I just think that I'm bad for you."

"I'm okay with that," Micah promises me and his hands are both now completely groping my butt. I let my hands roam around his bare chest, enjoying the smoothness of his skin and the freckles that look kind of like a child's connect the dots drawing. I wonder if I connected all of them, what it would look like.

"The world is at least half terrible," I mutter to him under my breath. It's a quote from the poem that I had written on his arm the night that we met. The poem about how for every good thing that happens, a bad thing happens too. I'm always used to being on the bad side of that quote, not really used to the good things happening to me. I'm thinking about what kind of terrible thing could be happening in the world to balance out this wonderful thing because it must be big.

Somebody was just murdered or there was a fatal car crash. Maybe there was a miscarriage or somebody dying of hunger. A dog died, somebody got diagnosed with an illness. I'm not sure what bad thing just happened to allow this great thing to happen.

"You worry so much about the bad things that could happen," Micah accuses me as he rolls us around so that he's lying on top of me instead of the other way around. His hands are still on my butt, now wedged between my body and the mattress. "You should stop and appreciate the good things that are happening."

I know that he's right but I also feel like I can't stop to appreciate what's happening because that's when you don't expect the bad things. And when you don't expect them, that's when you're the most vulnerable. I know that I sound paranoid though, so I don't voice those concerns. I just let him kiss me, I let this good thing happen.

"I'm sure that you've been through a lot," He continues when I don't respond. "So you're probably used to seeing the part of the world that's half terrible. But I'm here now, your knight in shining armor, and I'll show you every corner and every inch of the wonderful side. It'll blow your mind."

"My hero," I sigh against him and then his lips are on mine yet again. This time, it doesn't stop for a while. We just hold onto each other, floating on our cloud just the two if us in or own little universe.

But eventually, like I knew that it would, we have to float back down to earth. Micah has class tonight and he has to run home first to shower and get dressed for that class. Apparently, his law professors are very strict about attendance so he really can't miss. I understand but when I have to get out of that bed to say goodbye to Micah, I am very disappointed.

"I'll call you," Micah offers me after he's gotten dressed in the clothes that he wore yesterday. He then kisses me quickly as a goodbye and he heads out the door.

When he's officially out of the apartment, I need some time to recover from our intense twenty-four hours together. I brew some coffee and get a quick meal together but I also have to deal with getting the documents ready to give to the social worker that prove that I have a job so that I can legally get custody of Casey. I'll technically just be his foster parent because actually adopting him is a lot more work but in another four years, he'll be out of the system for good.

Gina, one of the girls that I work with, had to do something similar to this when she signed a lease for her apartment so she knows a guy who can forge employment papers. It's illegal but it gets the job done and I don't think I've ever been a cold hard follower of the law anyway. I'm doing what's right so that's what matters.

Those papers should be ready any day now so I have to call to get an update on those to see when and where I can pick them up. The sooner the better so that I can actually get custody of my brother and so that if Davis gets out of jail, we'll be safe from him.

Getting myself preoccupied with my forged employment papers is good right now because if I don't have anything else to think about, I start thinking about Micah.

I mean, I don't mind thinking about Micah but when I start thinking about him, I start thinking about how this is going to go. It can end only in three ways and none of them are great.

1.) I tell him that I'm an escort, he either leaves or he is okay with it which is doubtful. Even if he doesn't break up with me, I'll still be so ashamed that he knows that about me.

2.) We break up before he even finds out.

3.) I keep up the lie until I can afford to quit, I get a real and legal job, and Micah never finds out.

One makes me want to vomit, two is the most likely, and three is just a pipe dream. Me being an escort is one of the things that would make me a bad girlfriend but it isn't the only thing. So when we do breakup, it might be because of one of those other faults that I have and not my choice of employment.

But any way that I think this over in my head, I can't imagine it ending well. Which is why I busy myself by worrying more about the forged papers so that I don't worry myself into a black hole of paranoia and pessimism.

Sure, this relationship is probably doomed but it's happening right now. And I love what's happening right now. So I think that it's just the smartest idea to enjoy what we have right now without worrying too much about the future. My 'right now' looks pretty great but the future... well, that's a completely different story.