by Jillian Dodd
“I am. Completely. I can’t wait for you to meet her. She’s funny, and cute, and sweet, and a little ornery.”
“Did you sleep with her?”
“No,” I say. She listens carefully as I animatedly tell her what all went down. Her connection to Keatyn. How we briefly met years ago. The question she asked me.
“So she told you she’d go away with you this weekend? Have you spoken to her since then? Do you have a plan? Is she meeting you there? You picking her up?”
“I haven’t spoken to her since. I want to surprise her. Maybe at her school. Like I want to show up, give her a shit ton of roses, whisk her away.”
“You’ve been friends with Keatyn for far too long. That sounds like something out of a freaking fairytale.”
“That’s exactly how I want it to be.”
“You go pack. I need a few minutes to think this through logistically.”
When I come back down thirty minutes later, she says, “Did you pack a tuxedo?”
“Of course.”
“Perfect,” she says, grabbing the carry-on bag she always keeps packed and shooing me out the door. “We’ve got to get to the airport.”
The whole way to the executive airport, she’s making phone calls and crossing things off a list. By the time we’re buckled up, she says, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
I don’t bother to reply. I know it’s right.
Vanessa’s Mansion - Holmby Hills
ARIELA
A sliver of light peeking through my curtains wakes me up mid-morning. I turn my face toward Riley and open my eyes. I told him last night when he brought me home that I shouldn’t let him spend the night. It was supposed to be our first date, after all—the first date of grown-up Riley and Ariela. Although breakfast was tense and awkward, the rest of the day went better. We rented rollerblades and skated down the boardwalk. We walked hand-in-hand at the Santa Monica pier, stopping in shops, eating junk food, playing games, and going on all the amusement park rides. We flirted and kissed. But I told him I wouldn’t sleep with him on the first date. He argued that if it is truly the date that never ends, he had to stay. So we made out and fell asleep in each other’s arms.
I rub my hand across his firm bicep and am immediately aroused. If I don’t get out of this bed, the rest of the date will involve a whole lot of sex. And as much as I want that to happen, I want to spend time with him in other ways more.
I try not to wake him as I slide out of bed, but he grabs my waist and pulls me back toward him. “Morning, kitty,” he murmurs into my hair.
“Morning,” I say, melting into him. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed a bit. Riley causes physical reactions in my body that no one else can, particularly as I can feel the pressure of his morning wood against my leg.
“We going to continue the date that never ends by spending all day in bed?” He has a smirk on his face, and his hair is messed up, which makes him really hard to resist.
“You know how I feel about that, Riley. Besides, we still have a lot to do.”
“I’m tired. We did a lot yesterday, and I ate way too much sugar.”
“I know, but I learned so much about you.”
“Like what?”
“Well, you have a personal trainer named Raul, who is your assistant Tyler’s partner. Your favorite color is still green, but you hate green ties, favoring purples and blues instead. You’ve developed a love for sushi, even though you wouldn’t touch the raw stuff in high school. You order Thai at least once a week. You’ve switched from cheap beer to craft. You have an obsession with designer shoes and watches. And you and Dallas still get high.”
“And I learned a few things about you, too,” he says, as his hand slides across my waist. “I learned your knees are still ticklish. That the color of your eyes has deepened. That you don’t blush as often when I make dirty comments. Your favorite color is still pink, but you haven’t worn it since we broke up. Your hair smells like lemons and cream instead of strawberries, and you can handle more than one glass of wine without getting tipsy.”
“That’s why I don’t want to spend all day in bed with you, Riley. We already know that’s still the same. And today is going to be unseasonably warm, so it’s the perfect day to spend at the beach.”
“You want to try to surf?”
“I never really got the hang of it, but I liked going out on the board and watching you. We can take a picnic. Watch the sun set. Have a bonfire.”
“Then I can chase you under the pier,” he says. “And you know what will happen when I catch you.”
Captive Films - Santa Monica
VANESSA
I’m in Keatyn’s office putting dates into a spreadsheet for the Daddy’s Angel marketing campaign when I realize something. I haven’t had my period for a while.
I check back over my calendar and realize I’m at least a week late. And since I can’t get pregnant, my missing period must mean something is wrong.
But, what?
I do a quick internet search and discover lots of reasons why I could be late. Except . . . I don’t have excessive weight loss or gain, nor do I suffer from an eating disorder.
I’m not ill.
I don’t have emotional stress. At all. I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life right now.
I’m not on the pill. No need.
I don’t use illegal drugs.
My heart drops.
That leaves ovarian cancer.
I suck in a big breath, trying to calm myself down. We’re supposed to find out today if the girls got into their school. We’ll find out when they start and when they will be moving into my newly redecorated home.
Where we’re supposed to be a family. The family I long for. I’m finally happy. Loved. Could life be so cruel to me?
I can’t have cancer.
But I know it’s the only logical reason. It’s been two years since I’ve had my yearly exam. And I know that’s really bad, but after what happened, I just couldn’t face my doctor again. I couldn’t go back to the place where it all ended for me.
And now, I’m going to pay for it.
I’ll die.
The girls will once again be motherless, and I’ll never get to hold a baby in my arms.
Dawson flings the door open, startling me. “I just got the call! Their first day of school will be November the third. Less than two weeks! I’m so excited to tell them.” He studies me. “What’s wrong?”
“I have something in my eye,” I say brusquely, feeling crushed. I prayed every day that the girls would love the school and want to move here. I even promised them both they could adopt a pony. Now I’m scared.
“Oh, okay,” he says. “Anyway, just thought you’d want to know.”
“Um, actually, Dawson, I’m right in the middle of this. Can we talk later?”
“Uh, sure. Want to have dinner tonight and celebrate?”
“I have plans tonight, sorry,” I lie, causing him to leave my office looking disappointed.
But I can’t do it to his girls. I can’t become a mother-figure to them if I have cancer. I can’t and I won’t put them through something like that when they’ve been through so much all ready.
And that includes Dawson.
Wednesday, October 22nd
PRIVATE SCHOOL - CINCINNATI
KATIE
“Those of you who are done with the test need to be reading quietly until the bell rings,” I announce to my class. The kids are all hyped up because when they get out of school today they get a five-day break. I glance at the clock. Only twenty more minutes. Then I’m supposed to go to dinner with Kevin before we have to be back for parent-teacher conferences tonight. Not that many of the parents will be here. They just don’t seem to come once their children go to middle school and have multiple teachers.
I’m not sure what to do about Kevin. He’s cute and damn good in bed—actually better than most of the guys I’ve dated that are his age—but after my encounter wi
th Foxy Knoxy, I just haven’t been as attracted to him. I can’t even bring myself to kiss him.
Damn Knox Daniels and his stupid hot kiss. What the hell has he done to me?
I glance at my phone for the millionth time, hoping to find a text from him. Was he drunk? Was he not serious about seeing me this weekend? It’s Wednesday. I told him I’m off on Friday. That means if it’s going to happen, there should be some planning going on. Right?
Maybe I should act like a grownup and just text him. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.
Me: Hey, um, were you serious about maybe getting together this weekend?
Ten minutes later.
No reply.
Okay. That’s my answer then. It was just a stupid kiss.
Except, it wasn’t.
It was the hottest, most passionate kiss of my life. It was a soul-searing, earth-shattering, ridiculously incredible moment. It was more than just a kiss. It felt like . . . something I’ve never experienced before. Like I was finally home. That all the boys I have kissed in the past had only kissed me so I would understand Knox’s perfection and what it meant.
I open my top desk drawer and look at the tabloids I bought at the airport on the way home from the wedding. One that Knox and Keatyn happen to be on the cover of. God, he’s so fucking beautiful. And those damn dimples.
“Miss Katie,” the school secretary says, peeking her head into my classroom. “Principal Martin would like a quick word with you in her office.”
My class goes, “Oohh,” like I’m in trouble.
“Can’t it wait? Class will be over in a few minutes.”
She shakes her head furiously. “No! It absolutely can not wait. No. It can’t wait. You must go now.”
“I can’t just leave my class.”
“Oh,” she says. “I will take care of them. You go.” She shoos me out the door.
I look back at her, thinking she’s acting very strange as I make my way to the office. I’m not even to the door when Principle Martin pulls me inside.
“There you are!” She grabs my hand, drags me into her office, and practically man-handles me into a chair. Then her eyes get big, and she rushes over to her window and shuts the blinds.
“What’s so important that you pulled me out of class right before the bell?” I ask.
She wrings her hands together, acting nervous. Oh, shit. Does she know about me and Kevin hooking up?
“Look, before you say anything, I’m going to end it with him.” Her eyes get huge, like I just told her I was having an alien baby. “Kevin is sweet and all but—”
She lets out a big rush of air as she drops to her chair. “I didn’t bring you here to talk about Kevin. We, um, we have a bit of a situation. Uh, with the parent-teacher conferences. There is a parent coming in who, uh—” She stops speaking as the bell rings, ending the school day. “Anyway, as I was saying, there is a parent coming in who wants to talk to you about their child.”
“That’s what parent-teacher conferences are for,” I say in a smart-ass tone. “You know, so parents and teachers can talk.”
She glances at her phone, looks annoyed at it, and continues. “Yes, yes, well, of course, but this is a more sensitive subject, so I’m thinking maybe when the, uh, parent comes in that possibly we should have the school counselor involved.”
“Which student is it about?”
“Oh, well, I’m not exactly sure,” she stutters out. “The parent didn’t give me their identity. Just told me of the situation.”
“What situation?”
“Well, the one with the child, of course,” she says.
“And what situation is that?”
Her phone buzzes and she looks down. “Oh, time to go,” she says, getting up.
“But, we didn’t finish.”
“No time, now. You need to get out of here, go get some dinner, so, uh, you can be back here in time for the conference.”
“With the unknown parent who has something sensitive to discuss with me?”
“Exactly,” she says, brightening and linking her elbow in mine. “Come. I’ll walk you out.”
Principal Mary Martin is actually a good friend of mine. We do a girls’ night out at least once a week. She is acting very strangely. But I know she’s having trouble with her ex-husband, and conferences always stress her out. Maybe that’s all it is. Or maybe there’s something more going on with this parent she was talking about.
“Why don’t you come to dinner with me? You seem like you could use a drink,” I suggest as we make our way down the hall to the main entrance, which is unusually empty. Guess the kids couldn’t wait to get out of here.
“Me? Oh, no. I’m perfectly fine, besides,” she says, slinging me out the front door. “You’re going to be busy. Look!”
And look I do.
What I see is like something out of a movie. The front lawn is filled with students who cheer as the doors open. Each one of them is holding a single red rose. Even some of the parents are out there. All of them with roses.
“What’s going on?” I ask as a sudden horror fills me. This looks like a proposal. A school-type proposal. Is Kevin going to propose? Is that what has Mary so excited? She must be in on it. No, it must be something else. Surely, Kevin is not going to propose. We’ve only been hooking up for about a month. He’s never mentioned the word wedding, not even when we went to Keatyn’s.
“What the hell is this?” I whisper out of the side of my mouth.
She throws her hand in the air dramatically and everyone yells out, “Will you accept this rose?”
Then the crowd parts, and at the end of the sidewalk stands Knox fucking Daniels. In a tuxedo.
I stand frozen wondering if I fell asleep during class and am dreaming. If I am, I sure as hell don’t want to wake up.
Knox smiles, flashing those dimples, and walks toward me. He has one hand behind his back and actually looks a little shy.
“You owe me a big explanation,” Mary says, elbowing me, “as to why you didn’t tell me you met and—God can only hope, what else you did—with Knox Daniels.”
I try to swallow, but my throat is too dry. My heart is beating frantically in my chest. But I’m smiling back at him. He’s here. I think it’s possible that he’s really freaking here. But I still don’t move.
He takes the steps two at a time, and before I know it, he’s standing directly in front of me. “So, will you accept this rose,” he asks, pulling a single long-stemmed red rose from behind his back.
I try to say yes, but no words come out, so I just nod.
“Kiss!” the crowd yells.
That I can fucking do, I think, as I throw my arms around his neck and crash into him.
His tongue flits across my lips, and as I start to open my mouth, I remember where I am. Who is watching.
As I pull away, he says, “Sorry, I came too soon. I couldn’t wait until the weekend.”
I whisper naughtily in his ear. “When we get back to my place, that better not happen.”
“What better not happen?”
“Coming too soon.”
“Aw, sugar. What am I going to do with you?” he chuckles.
“I can think of a few things,” I tell him, my eyes wide with unabashed desire.
“Be careful, teacher,” he says. “Lots of little eyes and ears here.”
All I can think about is getting him back to my place as soon as possible. But then I remember that I have conferences. “Um, it’s great that you’re here and all and this is amazing, but I have to work tonight.”
“Actually, you don’t,” Mary says, handing me my bag. “We’re all covering for you. Now, you two go have some fun! I don’t want to see you back here for a while.”
“It’s conferences. You said no one could miss them. Not even if we were sick.”
“Well, that’s before Knox Daniels showed up, dear. You take all the time off you need. I’ll teach your class myself if I have to.”
“Thank you,” I reply g
ratefully, giving her a hug.
She whispers. “He literally bought every rose in the city. For you.”
Knox takes my hand and leads me toward a waiting stretch limo. On the way there, the students all start giving me their roses, and by the time we get in the car, a large bouquet fills my arms.
PRIVATE SCHOOL - CINCINNATI
KNOX
The second we get inside the limo and the door is shut behind us, our lips collide, the roses tossed aside. Her tongue slides into my mouth, taunting me with wickedness yet to come. She makes quick work of my tie, pulling it off me.
And as much as I want all this to happen, I need more. I must fucking be in love with this girl.
“Slow down there, sugar lips,” I say, ending our kiss and leaning back.
“Sugar lips not just sugar?” she pouts, making me wonder if I said something wrong.
I rub the pad of my thumb across her lush lower lip, wanting nothing but another taste. “I called you sugar lips because your lips taste like a delectable mix of honey and candy.”
This causes her to grin. She pats the bouquet of roses lying strewn across the seat. “So what’s with all the Bachelor references? And who told you, Maggie or Keatyn?”
“Keatyn.”
“You talked to her on her honeymoon?”
I raise an eyebrow in her direction. “Well, some things can’t wait.”
“You know, I don’t get you. You were all flirty at the wedding. Seemed disappointed I went back to my date. Told me we were going away this weekend then nothing. No texts. No calls. Nothing. I assumed we weren’t . . .”
I take her hand in mine and gently caress it. “I had a few things I needed to wrap my head around first.”
“That’s such a guy answer,” she laughs. “What does that even mean?”
