by L. D. Davis
“I can’t,” I said with a sigh.
I felt Felix’s body sag a little, but he didn’t back away.
“Is it because of him?” he asked, and I could hear the disappointment in his voice.
“Somewhat,” I admitted. “But there’s more. I don’t think I will live up to your expectations, Felix. I like parties and excitement, but only in small increments.” I put my hand in his hair and ruffled it. “You’re a wild one, and you don’t need anyone holding you down or holding you back.”
He threw his head back and groaned with frustration. When he looked at me again, he was smiling, though his eyes were rather sad.
“You’re sixteen years old,” he said incredulously. “Why are you so damn responsible?”
I smiled too. “Trust me. I think it’s more a curse than a gift.”
“I’m definitely feeling cursed,” he groaned again.
I put a hand on his chest as I looked into his gray eyes. “Are we still friends, Felix?” He was the one true New York friend I had, and though he was about to leave for a few months, I didn’t want to end our friendship.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he said with a grin. He kissed my cheek, sweetly and slowly before stepping away from me. “I better take you back to your suite before your boyfriend comes after us.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said as I stepped through the door he held open for me, but I did suspect that Emmet would come looking for us soon.
“Whatever,” Felix said flippantly. He pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his back pocket and slipped them on. “Is this a good disguise? I don’t want the press claiming that your suite is our personal love shack again.”
“Your disguise stinks, Hunter,” I laughed. “And the press can claim anything it wants. I’ll get free PR.”
Felix wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me off of the floor in a big hug. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him back and planted a kiss on his jaw.
“Don’t forget about me,” I said.
“Impossible,” he said in my ear. “Besides, you’re flying out to visit me.”
“I can do that,” I grinned.
He put me down on my feet and kissed my cheek once more. “I’ll call you soon.”
“Okay,” I said and watched him walk down the hallway.
“By the way,” he said, walking backward. “Those shorts are spicy.”
“Hot,” I added with a laugh.
“Sexy,” he grinned and then disappeared around the corner.
I turned around and reached into my pocket for my key, but the door swung open, and Emmet stood on the other side.
“I was just coming to find you,” he said rather stiffly.
“Now you don’t have to.” I smiled and stepped past him into the room. I expected to find my mom sitting on the couch waiting to go to lunch. “Where’s my mom?”
“She said she was tired,” Emmet said, leaning against a wall and crossing his arms. He appeared to be a little beefier than he was before he went off to college.
“She went to bed?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes.”
I frowned. I looked towards her bedroom door and half considered going in there. I couldn’t shake that nagging feeling that something was wrong with her.
“Do you still want to go to lunch?” Emmet asked quietly. “Or are you going to do something with Felix?”
I looked at him. His body was rigid, and his jaw was clenched.
“Felix is going to L.A.,” I said carefully. “He came by to say goodbye.”
He seemed to relax a little, but only a little.
“I’m surprised he didn’t ask you to go with him.”
I picked up the envelope of pictures. I didn’t open it, but I played with the flap that kept them enclosed.
“He did ask me.”
Emmet sucked in a breath, and his body stiffened once again. The muscles in his arms rippled as his hands fisted.
“I said no,” I continued. I put the envelope down and took the few steps to Emmet. I put a hand on his arm and said, “Let’s go to lunch.”
He looked down at my hand and then my face. After a moment, he let out that breath he had sucked in and took my hand in his. We were just stepping out of the door when Emmet asked me, “Did you want to go?”
I glanced up at him and quickly looked away. “Part of me wanted to go,” I admitted.
“Which part would that be?” he asked stiffly as we walked down the hallway.
“Does it matter?” I shot back. “I’m not going, and for the record, you’re not allowed to be angry about this.”
I punched the button for the elevator. We got on in silence and silence followed us all the way downstairs and through the lobby.
Chapter Twenty-Three
When the Rolling Stone issue hit the magazine shelves, my life changed. People recognized me on the street. Men asked me out. Women questioned me about Felix and about breaking into the modeling business, and shockingly, more than a few people requested my autograph.
My workload quadrupled. I went from working a few days a week to working sometimes seven days a week, and sometimes with some very long hours. I landed a small part on a sitcom filmed in the city and a commercial for a hair care product that would run nationwide.
Fred had a conniption about the Rolling Stone cover. He went as far as calling it child pornography, which was very unfair. I was barely a child, my lady bits weren’t showing, and no one was exploiting me. Sam surprisingly took my side and regarded the cover as artful and tasteful, and even though she had seen my hair have better days, that I looked beautiful. Emmet said he had to struggle not to punch any guy that either ogled the cover of the magazine or talked about it.
Secretly, that brought me a little satisfaction.
Emmet had returned to Cambridge the same night Felix had asked me to go with him to Los Angeles. He had considered staying another few days, but I had convinced him it was best to stick with his regular schedule. Since mine was all over the place, I couldn’t guarantee that we’d be able to hang out anyway.
We stayed in touch through phone calls and emails. The conversations were light and friendly, but every night when it was time to hang up the phone, we each hesitated and dragged the call out another few minutes. When the semester ended not long after his visit, instead of hitting up some warm beach with scantily clad women in bikinis with his friends, Emmet came to see me in New York.
When working in the modeling business, life tends to be unpredictable. You may have your whole day planned out ahead of you. You may have plans of getting some breakfast with an old friend, going to the American Museum of Natural History, eating fattening pizza for dinner and then seeing where the rest of the night takes you. However, when your agent calls you while your pancakes are still hot on your plate and tells you to get your ass to a casting call, nothing else matters. You drop everything, including that piece of pancake you were shamefully about to put into your mouth.
As you apologize profusely to your visiting friend and scoot out of the booth, you pray that the other twenty bites of pancakes and four slices of bacon and coffee with extra cream and extra sugar don’t ruin your chance to get the job. You pray that you don’t look as fat as you feel, and if you have to squeeze your ass into any clothes, you know you better be able to button or zip whatever it is. That was the case on Emmet’s first day back in the city.
“Don’t worry about it,” he had said and smiled at me as we rushed back to my hotel suite so I could get ready. “This is why you’re here. Now I get to see you in action.”
“Or inaction,” I sighed. “Depending on which way this goes.”
“Whatever way it goes, I think you’re great,” he said and squeezed my hand.
“Careful, you’re going to give me an enormous head. I’m going to start believing I’m better than every other girl there.”
“You should because you are.”
Usually, I didn’t care for so
meone overindulging me in compliments. I needed constructive criticism, not to hear things said to make me feel better, but Emmet’s words made me smile. I had a feeling that he really believed what he said about me.
We went back to the suite. I rushed around, changed my clothes and grabbed my bag of fun that consisted of makeup, hair products and more. My mom was still in bed, but I checked in with her and let her know what was happening before we left.
I was going to have to leave Emmet to his own devices for a while. I had no idea what kind of situation I was walking into. I didn’t know if I would be one of a few girls under consideration, or one of a hundred. If chosen, I didn’t know if I would get a callback or if I was expected to hang around for another round of eliminations or get to work right away.
Before I went inside, Emmet pulled me into an embrace. His breath was hot on my neck as he wished me luck and gave me words of encouragement. When his lips gently touched my neck, my skin burned and sizzled, and I gasped. His hands caressed my back, and though they didn’t go any lower, it felt sensual and sent warmth rushing up my spine. When we finally separated from each other, he gave me his winning smile that sent my heart into wild fluttering.
I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to put my hands in his hair and pull his head to mine and get back what I had been missing for so long, but I didn’t. I took another step back and bit my lip. While Emmet and I had been rather cozy, holding hands and whatnot, I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to go any farther than that. We were both still hurt from our breakup and we were living in two different universes. It made me sad to think I may never get to kiss him again, but I was relieved to have his friendship, and his hand to hold. For the time being.
“I’ll call you when I’m finished,” I told him.
He pushed his hands into his pockets and also took a step back, as if he had been thinking the same things as me.
“You’re going to be great,” he said and smiled sadly.
I couldn’t help the frown that formed on my face before I turned away from him and went inside.
The casting call lasted all day. The good news was that I was one of a few girls chosen. The bad news was that I was one of few girls chosen. A good portion of the next day was going to be spent working, which meant that I would not be spending that time with Emmet.
I didn’t complain about it or whine about it, because like Emmet had said earlier in the day, I was doing what I went to New York to do, and honestly, I was beginning to get very excited about my future prospects. I was able to get some work on my own, but after several weeks in Felix’s presence, many more doors opened for me. Sometimes it really was about who you knew.
Later that night as we were walking aimlessly after our pizza dinner, the sky opened up to give us a healthy dose of a spring thunderstorm. Since Emmet’s hotel was nearby, we went there.
“There is something I want to show you,” Emmet said, once we were in the elevator.
I lifted an eyebrow. He smiled and tapped me on the forehead with two fingers.
“Pervert.”
I blushed and said, “I didn’t say anything.”
I was standing in a corner. Emmet closed me in by placing his hands on the railings on each side of me. We were both wet from the storm. Emmet’s t-shirt clung to his chest, and his wet hair was mussed. The rain did something to amplify his scent because the smell of his cologne and his skin was a deluge on my senses, and I felt myself squeezing my thighs together.
“You were thinking something,” he admonished quietly, gazing at me with those sparkling eyes.
My eyes roved over his wet, muscled body. I licked my lips. “You’re not a mind reader.”
“I don’t have to be a mind reader,” he chuckled softly. “It’s written all over your lovely face.”
The elevator came to a stop and made a soft chiming noise. He stepped away from me and held out his hand. I took it without hesitation and followed him out. When we walked into his room, the first thing I noticed was the enormous bed that dominated the room. Images of Emmet’s body pressed to mine drifted lazily into my brain, and I was just as lazy about sending them away.
“Written all over your face,” Emmet said, grinning at me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said lightly and turned away from the bed.
I walked over to the large window and pulled back the curtain. My hotel room view was of a busy street and other buildings, but Emmet had a beautiful view of Central Park.
“I guess you’re getting good use out of your newly acquired trust fund,” I teased lightly.
All of the Grayne kids were trust fund babies. They start getting quarterly payments at the age of eighteen, but it wasn’t free money, not exactly. As a stipulation of the trust, they were required to go to college or join the military. There was no toleration for failure; a minimum GPA had to be maintained, or they were cut off. Once out of school, they had to be employed full-time, unless they were a married female with a working husband, which was rather sexist. The payments decreased over the years too. There were more stipulations, but since they never applied to me, I didn’t care to remember them.
Emmet stood very close behind me. His wet chest was against my wet back.
“Is this what you wanted to show me?” I teased, trying to hide how nervous I suddenly felt.
“It’s not, but do you like it?”
“I do,” I said. “It’s a beautiful view, even in the rain.” I sighed contently as I looked at dusk settling over the city. “I love New York.”
The air seemed to vacuum out of my lungs when Emmet wrapped his arms around my waist.
“You appear to have adapted well to the city,” he said, and I could feel his voice vibrating against my back.
“I had to adapt quickly,” I responded with a shrug. “The city moves pretty fast, and the modeling business moves even faster. I had to leave my preconceptions and emotions at the state line.”
“Your emotions?”
I shifted slightly in his arms. I had not meant to bring up my emotional state before moving to New York. I had been nervous about the life I was about to begin and sad for the one I was leaving behind. I didn’t want to leave my best friend and my other friends and family, and I was still very much heartbroken. My mind had still been full of Emmet and my regrets. I had to harden myself, and it was a good thing I did, because rejection didn’t come easily. It wasn’t always just a, “no” or, “we’ll call you” and you receive no such phone call. It was sometimes a, “you’re too fat” or, “you’re too dark” or, “you’re too plain” or, my favorite one was, “whoever told you that you could be a model lied.” Yes, I had to grow some hard skin, and that had to come from the inside out. I had no room inside for tears, remorse, and heartbreak.
“What about your emotions?” Emmet pressed when I didn’t answer.
“You already know,” I said dismissively with a smile as I moved out of his arms and took several steps away. I was careful to avoid the big bed as much as possible. “Do you have a dry shirt I can borrow?”
Emmet sighed. He looked frustrated and angry, but he also looked sad and regretful. I understood the mix of emotions because I felt the same way. His suitcase was open on the floor on the other side of the bed. He went over there and produced a t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts.
I thanked him and went into the bathroom to change. I looked at my watch while I was in there. It wasn’t late yet, but I would have to get plenty of sleep before reporting to work in the morning. I was going to have to cut my night short with Emmet and take a cab back to my hotel within the hour. I was feeling a little let down that I wouldn’t get to spend too much time with him before he headed back to Cambridge to begin an internship, but maybe it was for the best. I would get accustomed to him being around, and the fact was that it wasn’t a reality for us.
I walked out of the bathroom holding my wet clothes with one hand and the hem of the shorts with the other. The shorts were just too baggy for
me, and the draw string really didn’t help. I had it cinched tightly, and the shorts still managed to slide down as I moved. Several steps into the room I gave up and with an exasperated growl, I let the shorts fall to the floor. I scooped them up and tossed them to an amused Emmet.
“I like you better bottomless anyway,” he said with a teasing smile.
I ignored the crazy thoughts his words put in my head.
“Amusing,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Are there laundry facilities here? Maybe I can throw my stuff in the dryer.”
“Sure, I’ll take them down for you in a few minutes, but first…” He pulled open the drawer of one of the bedside tables and produced a camera. “I’m not leaving New York without a few pictures of you, and us together. What kind of a guy would I be if I know a super model and don’t have any pictures of her or with her?”
I laughed. “Emmet, you’ll have few days to take pictures. Can you wait until I’m not half naked? Seems pretty suspect to me.” I crossed my arms and looked at him with raised eyebrows.
He laughed too. “I swear to you that I was going to ask for pictures regardless of what you had on. I had no idea that you would end up in my room half naked.”
I rolled my eyes and sighed in defeat. “Can I at least brush my hair first?” I asked, reaching for my bag.
“No,” he said, holding the camera up to his eye. “I like you just the way you are.”
“My hair is a mess,” I cried, trying to cover my head and face with my hands.
Emmet closed the distance between us and batted my hands away.
“You’re perfect. Put your hands down.”
“I’m perfectly disgusting you mean!”
Emmet captured one of my hands in his and held it firmly while he looked me in the eyes.
“Donya.” he said my name with authority. He gave me a look of warning before taking several steps back.
