Crashing into Love

by Hollis Wynn

  “Uh . . .” I squint my eyes at him and purse my lips. “I’m not being a brat. At all.”

  I throw my hands up in the air and take a step back from Baker. “He’s an asshole. Always has been and always will be. What I can’t understand is why he thinks it’s okay to cheat on my mother and flaunt it in my face.”

  I pace the large room. A king-size, four-poster bed takes up most of the space. Combined with some dark aubergine curtains and gold accessories, the room gives me the feeling that royalty once slept here.

  Baker watches me quietly for a few moments. “Did you ever think that your father felt like he could trust you with the news? Trust you to be an adult and acknowledge that he’s past the point of needing your approval?”

  “Baker,” I sigh. One hot tear rolls down my cheek. I swipe it away, but more take its place. “Why can’t my father be a good human? One who loves his wife and child—no matter what?”

  He reaches out and pulls me into him for a hug. I allow the heat of his body to comfort me while the tears flow like a rushing river. Baker caresses my back with his strong hands.

  Wrapped in his embrace, I allow all the feelings to take over. The hate for my father. The insecurity of what happens to my mother and me after this debacle of a dinner. The intense waves of pleasure I feel with Baker holding me. Tonight is a roller coaster of emotions and I’m not sure where to go from here.

  Breaking our connection, I step back and look up at him. “Thank you.” The deep color of his eyes draws me in, and I can’t stop staring.

  “I’ll always be here for you, Sutton.” The vibrations of his words sink into the deepest depths of my soul.

  A wave of apprehension rolls through me about the time Baker leans down, claiming my lips. The first touch of his lips on mine is delicious and creates a heady sensation. I allow him to control the kiss and open my mouth to receive everything he wants to give me.

  This is the first time that I’ve ever felt an intense sense of comfort from a kiss. Yes, I’ve had super sexy kisses, emotional kisses and even sloppy kisses, but until now, I’ve never had a kiss that comforts me in this way.

  Baker halts the kiss and I immediately feel his loss. My fingers dab my swollen lips. I want to move back in for another one but respect his space.

  “I apologize for that,” he says.

  What the fuck? He’s apologizing for a kiss that rocked my world?

  “Don’t apologize for kissing me. Ever,” I choke out. “In case you couldn’t tell, I was a more than willing participant. Considering how the night has gone and what my father sprang on us, he can’t say anything to us. Fornication isn’t prohibited in the HR manual. So . . .” I shrug my shoulders at him before grabbing his shirt and pulling him in for another kiss.

  This time our kiss is fast and furious. I allow myself to give into the passion of Baker’s kiss. His lips are hard and searching, ravishing my lips in the best way possible. My breath is ragged and shallow now.

  “Now that we’re on the same page, I expect that we will continue this, just not here.”

  He nods and adjusts himself, drawing my eyes to the lower half of his body. One day he’ll let go and when he does, I’ll forever be his.

  Batman vs. Superman

  Capricorn, Cupcakes & Cocktails

  Secret: I run on the treadmill at the gym for one reason only . . . and it’s not my health. It’s to watch the seriously hot men in the gym. Today was #TeamBatman.

  About five years ago, the office had a huge remodel done and a wall was erected to separate the office into two different spaces. The result of that wall created unofficial teams and competition. So, I named them. #TeamBatman is my side of the office and #TeamSuperman is the other side.

  Now, don’t laugh too hard. I can imagine as you sit there reading this you’ve probably spit your morning coffee on the computer. Well, wipe it up fast so it doesn’t fry the motherboard.

  The guys in the office weren’t exactly happy that I started calling them Batman and Superman, but it seemed perfect considering how much competition there was before the wall—after, it was just supersized. They learned a long time ago to keep me happy. When Searching Sterling isn’t happy, no one is happy because they have to do their own shit. And that never works well for any of us.

  Back to the gym.

  This girl has always been and will be #TeamBatman. The only way that will change is if B goes to the dark side and leaves me. He’s kept me sane since I began working here. Being #TeamBatman has been my way of being Team B without anyone really knowing it. Today, the was arm day for the guys—B, H, and A are lifting while I run. I keep my headphones on and run to the beat of Porn Star Dancing while I watch them pick up the weights and put them down. I nearly fall off the treadmill at one point when I see the glint of sweat running down B’s chest when he gets up from the chest press. I continue watching their reflections in the mirror, and notice B winking at me. Damn it! He caught me staring.

  Once my three miles are done and I’m glistening with perspiration (I DON’T SWEAT—IT’S GROSS!) I decide to do some jumping jacks and burpees. Not only is it good for me, but I enjoy it when they watch me too.

  Until next time,

  Searching Sterling

  Seventeen

  I don’t go to the gym to ogle the men, I really don’t.

  While they are sometimes foolish airheads with no vision, they are gorgeous when their mouths are closed. Or grunting. Yes, they grunt. Thankfully, I’m here alone today, for now.

  I watch them from my corner treadmill, trying to get a couple of miles in. My hair is up in a tight bun, my sports bra is equally tight, and my leggings are high waisted so I’m somewhat respectable, but not uncomfortable.

  Things have been relatively quiet since the showdown with my father a couple weeks ago. I’ve slowed down on the dating front and I don’t really miss it very much, but I wouldn’t mind a few more of Baker’s kisses.

  Pilot Mike is traveling a lot, and I’m certain he’s found someone else to warm his bed in every city. Lawyer Mike is busy at work, but we’ve been texting a bit and decided to be friends. I’m always up for friends and with his schedule, he doesn’t have the time to focus on a relationship. All this works in my favor since Baker occupies my days in the office and my dreams at night.

  I decide to go for one more mile, even though I’m huffing and puffing. Pushing myself to the brink of exhaustion is exactly what I need today. Then the door opens and Baker strides through, effectively distracting me. He’s wearing a threadbare T-shirt and basketball shorts. They show off every one of his defined muscles—including his ass. It’s so taut and tight I could bounce a quarter off it.

  My goodness . . . he is so—

  “Argh!” I shout. I’m suddenly crashing toward the ground, my ankle twisting under me and throbbing.

  Ouch. It hurts!

  I untwist my body, clutching my ankle and rolling to my side. Breathe, Sutton. Closing my eyes, I try to breathe through the pain. All because I was distracted by my crush on Baker, who takes command of the gym from the moment he enters.

  “Red.” The concern in his voice echoes through the small space. I don’t want to look at him, because I can hear him chuckling as he kneels in front of me.

  His scent cloaks me. It’s a combination of his cologne and his own scent mixed together in the best way possible. I blink and look into his eyes, my face flush with embarrassment. Extreme mortification is where I’m at now.

  “Hi.” I wince and try to sit up.

  He reaches for my shoulders and helps me into a sitting position, then leans me against the wall.

  “Are you okay?” He smirks, his soft pink lips curling into a sexy smile. Why, oh why, is he such a beautiful man?

  “Yes, I’m only writhing in pain and clutching my ankle to practice my acting skills.” My voice drips with sarcasm and I cringe again at the pain searing through my ankle.

  “Okay. You’ve got your part down pat. When is the audition?”
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  I want to throw something at him, but I glare at him instead.

  “Let me see it, Red.” He gently removes my hands from where I’m holding my foot and inspects the angry, swollen ankle.

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah, I’m aware.” Baker grins at me and one glance into his eyes calms me down. I take a deep breath as he touches the red-hot flesh.

  “How did you fall off the treadmill?” he asks while pressing all over my ankle and I try not to scream.

  “I got distracted.” His touch is gentle, and he’s calm as he checks everything out, but it doesn’t stop me from crying. I’m such a pansy when it comes to pain.

  “It’s definitely sprained. Can you move it?”

  I try to, grunting with pain and shake my head.

  “Well, let’s get you out of here. Do you want to try to get up?” His voice is kind and calm as he speaks to me. I look into his eyes again and all I see is compassion.

  “Yeah, let me try.” I’ve always trusted Baker, but today, I realize how deep that trust goes. After the night with my father and Daniella, things have changed for us. He’s had to rescue me twice in a couple weeks.

  “I’m going to reach down and pick you up. Don’t report me to HR,” he jokes, and I laugh. It’s exactly what I need right now.

  “Okay.” I attempt to hold back the onslaught of ugly cry tears as he picks me up. One hand on my waist, he lifts and tucks me into his body. I don’t ask where we’re going but allow him to open the car door and sit me inside softly.

  “Wait here, I’ll get your things.” He winks at me and jogs back upstairs.

  I take the time to inspect the black sedan. The interior is neat as a pin, not one thing out of place. It smells nice—like Baker—a heady combination of oranges, spices, and man. My ankle has a pulse of its own and has grown to three times the normal size. Thankfully, the workday is over, so I can go home and prop it up, resting for the night. It hits me that Baker probably doesn’t even know which stuff is mine and even if he does, he’d have to go into the ladies’ locker room to get it, so I’m shocked when he returns to the car, dropping both of our bags into the back seat.

  “How did you know which one was mine?” I ask him, glancing over my shoulder into the back seat.

  “I’ve been watching you,” he comments as if the answer is obvious. Then he revs the engine and winks.

  “That’s creepy.” I chuckle a bit before pain shoots from my ankle to my toes.

  Biting my lip, I give him a funny look. It’s not often I see Baker flustered, but I really like it.

  “To my castle, please, sir.” We both laugh and it’s a nice distraction from the awkwardness.

  Being swept up into Baker’s arms is amazing. I can feel his heartbeat with my arms wrapped around his neck, as he takes one stair at a time. I hand him my keys that I dug out of my bag and he unlocks the door, dropping me gently down onto the couch.

  “Sit here. I’ll be right back with your things.”

  Thank the lord, I did some cleaning this week, I think to myself.

  Baker returns and drops my bag next to the couch and then makes his way to the kitchen. I can hear him rummaging around—who knows what he’s looking for. A few minutes later, he’s back with a baggie of ice.

  “Turn around and lean your back against the arm, then prop your foot up.” He bends over the other end of the couch, gently picking up my leg and placing a pile of pillows underneath my ankle. I groan at the pain but try not to let him hear me.

  “How do you know all of this?” I ask him. I pull away as he takes off my shoes and socks, thankful that my pink polish isn’t chipped.

  “Frat life.” He laughs as I watch him kneeling in front of me, gingerly rubbing my ankle. I focus on his thick, ruffled hair and the deep ridge between his brows.

  “Interesting.” I wipe away the tears. I prefer not to show weakness, but today I don’t even care.

  I watch him as he wraps the ice pack around my ankle and secures it with clear wrap.

  “Thank you.” I wipe my eyes and smile at him.

  He grins at me. “No problem.”

  I’m shocked to see desire in his eyes considering he’s just spent the better part of an hour carrying me around and taking care of my injuries. He stares at me and I realize I don’t have a shirt on. Shit. I should have demanded he get my T-shirt for me to throw over my sports bra, but I was in so much pain, I didn’t even notice until now.

  “What?” I stutter.

  “Nothing.” He shakes his head and tries to get up, but I place my hand on his arm, stopping him.

  “We’re friends. You can tell me that I stink. I won’t be offended.”

  He throws back his head and belly laughs.

  “I’ve never seen you like this.” Our eyes lock and suddenly I’m nervous.

  What do I say to that? Maybe crack a joke?

  “Without makeup and my nice clothes?”

  He nods. “So innocent and beautiful.”

  I nervously bite my lip and pray the blush on my cheeks is faint.

  “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”

  I chuckle to myself as Baker goes back into the kitchen and brings me a glass of water. “Do you have any ibuprofen? It will help with the pain and swelling.”

  “It’s in the hall closet, on the second shelf.”

  Baker seems comfortable in my home, and I like it. I like it a lot.

  He hands me two pills and places the bottle on the table in front of the couch. “Tonight, you need to alternate heat and ice. I wouldn’t suggest heels for a couple days, but you should be back to normal in about a week or so.”

  “I wish I could do more to thank you for all you’ve done this evening.”

  Baker looks around the apartment and I’m confused as to what he’s looking for. “Well, you could make dinner for me.”

  Well, I guess Baker wants to stay as much as I’d like him too. My heart sings with delight and I try to figure out how to make this work.

  “This ankle won’t allow me to cook tonight, but we could order take out and watch a movie. I’ll even scoot over so you can sit with me.” I pat the couch next to me.

  A deep moan and raspy laugh escape between Baker’s lips and I can’t stop staring at them. Based on what I can tell, they’re the only soft part of him.

  “Then it’s settled,” Baker says. “We’ll order in and watch a movie.”

  Where Have all the manners gone?

  Capricorn, Cupcakes & Cocktails

  I lounged around most of Saturday and Sunday because limping around after suffering a freak, way too embarrassing accident isn’t the most attractive. The first step this morning sent shock waves of pain through my body, but by the time I was dressed in dark jeans, my favorite ballet flats, and a flowy top, it was down to a throbbing ache. Life is about balance.

  Some days are Prada & Gucci.

  Some days are Old Navy & Levi’s.

  Some days are red lipstick & high heels.

  But every day requires cupcakes.

  Always cupcakes.

  And cocktails.

  For this Capricorn.

  After dragging myself into the office, I settled myself behind my desk, turning over my trashcan to use as a prop. I heard my phone chiming and pulled it out of my bag to a flurry of messages.

  Control Freak Mike: Did we decide on a time to reschedule our date?

  Control Freak Mike: How about drinks then dinner? Tomorrow night?

  Pilot Mike: Are you around?

  Pilot Mike: Dinner? My place?

  Pilot Mike: I’m horny.

  Lawyer Mike: Happy Monday!

  At least one of them has manners. You guys, what would you do in my place? Comment or send me a message with how you’d deal with this crew.

  Thank goodness, I can use my injury as an excuse to ignore them all. When I started this process, I couldn’t fathom that I’d have three men vying for my attention, with none of them interested in a real relationship. Couple
that with the fact that I’m head over heels in lust with someone else, it appears I’ve gotten myself into a pickle.

  I’ve got to get back to work, don’t want anyone catching me writing this. The boss will be more cranky than normal if he finds out.

  Until next time,

  Searching Sterling

  Eighteen

  I watch the guys huddle in the middle of the hallway, looking at Hunter’s iPad and laughing. I wonder what they’re watching. Probably some stupid video or TikTok. I watch them glancing around and then go back to the screen. I kind of want to know what they’re watching, and yet, I don’t want to know. I’ll just sit here and get some work done while they giggle like a bunch of teenage girls.

  A little while later, I’m semi caught up and decide to answer some of these messages. I should be thankful each one of these guys is interested, and I was in the beginning. Now, I’m interested in someone else and I don’t want to lead them on.

  First up is Control Freak Mike. Let’s hope he takes this well, because he seems like the one that would turn into a stalker.

  Sutton: Thanks for the invite, Mike. But I’m currently seeing someone else. I wish you good luck on your quest for love.

  Control Freak Mike: Wow. That was fast.

  Control Freak Mike: I’m here if it doesn’t work out. Don’t lose my number.

  Next up is Pilot Mike.

  Sutton: Hey! Thanks for the message. Fortunately for me, unfortunately for you, I’ve met someone and really want to see where this goes.

  Pilot Mike: Way to go, girl! Make sure to get you some.

  Sutton: Thanks. You too!

  That could have been worse. Awkward as fuck, but thankfully not too bad. Last up is Lawyer Mike. He’s so sweet and I don’t think I’ll give him the brush off like I did the other two because we’ve managed to keep our relationship strictly platonic. Besides, we all need friends—even if they’re the opposite sex.