Riley knew Marc was lying, but he appreciated that he wanted to make Riley feel better. “No, you were serious.”

“I thought you were moony over him, riding the waves of really hot sex with a compatible partner, not truly falling in love.”

“What the fuck do I do?”

“What do you want to do?”

How was he supposed to answer that? What he wanted was impossible. “If I knew, I wouldn’t have called you.”

“I guess not, but seriously, have you thought this through? You’re coming to me for relationship advice?”

Marc had a point. He had a knack for picking the worst men ever. “I’m coming to you for advice from a fellow escort. This isn’t a relationship.”

“You want it to be.”

“No. Yes. I’m crazy, aren’t I? You know what Thorne is like.” Riley had come to resent just how well Marc knew Thorne. That alone should have set off warning signals.

“He’s a good man,” Marc said. “Despite his idiosyncrasies.”

“He is, but can you see us in a relationship?” The last word dripped with so much bitterness Riley wondered if it would burn the phone.

“Riley, how much do you want this?”

“‘This’ being Thorne?”

“No, a ride to the fucking moon. Of course I mean Thorne.”

“I don’t know.” He did though. He wanted it with all his heart in a way he’d never wanted a man before.

“That’s what you have to figure out, then. You’ve got two choices. You can walk away now, or you can work for what you want and risk it destroying you.”

Riley sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Destruction.”

“You’ll survive whatever happens. But unless you want it bad enough to see where it leads and damn the consequences, the sooner you end it, the better.”

Riley’s chest felt tight as if someone were squeezing the air out of him. “It’s not going to lead anywhere.”

“That does not sound like the Riley I know. When have you ever been a pessimist?”

“I’m trying to be a realist.”

Marc sniffed. “It doesn’t look good on you.”

Riley wanted to reach through the phone and shake him. “You’re giving me mixed signals.”

“It’s not my decision to make, so I see the benefits of both choices.”

“If I try and it doesn’t work, then…”

“You’ll be hurt. It will tear you apart, but you’ll have tried.”

Marc sounded almost wistful. He was clearly in a strange mood that evening. “So you think I should stay?”

“I think you should decide how much you want this.”

He’d known neither Marc nor Susan would tell him what to do, but he hated having to make this decision on his own. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”