Chronicles of a Hot Mess

by S. E. Rose

  “I’m sorry. I just...I mean...” He couldn’t say any more for a moment until he composed himself.

  It was only then that Lyla realized Nate had walked over to join her complete humiliation party.

  “Oh good, you found them,” he said.

  “I am going to kill you,” she said turning to him. “No, scratch that. Murder is too kind. First, I’m going to cut off your balls and stuff them in your ass. Then, I’m going to cut off the end of your dick and stick that down your throat. Then, I’m going to carve quotes from the celebrities you hate most all over your chest. Then, I’m going to dump your body in the middle of Dupont Circle on a Saturday night.”

  Nate held up his hands. “OK, OK. Sorry,” he said, drawing out the last word. “My bad. I just didn’t see you playing Ping-Pong with them in the restaurant. Otherwise, I’d have given them to you at home.”

  She closed her eyes because she needed a moment. It was as she pinched the bridge of her nose that she realized she was still holding the vibrating balls. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she peered up through her fingers to find Mr. Hottie staring down at her. His nose had stopped bleeding, but it would definitely be a bit swollen tomorrow. Her gaze met his and his eyes crinkled, but not in a mean way.

  “You alright there, Mrs. Bobbitt,” he asked her.

  She took in a deep breath. “Yeah. Other than me wanting to kill my best friend. I’m fine. Are you alright?” she asked, her hand reaching up to touch his cheek.

  He placed a hand over hers in what seemed like a very personal sign of affection. “I’ll survive.”

  “Good. Listen, I’m really sorry. I’m just so embarrassed,” she said shaking her head as she felt Nate standing close to her. She took the hand holding the vibrating balls and stuck them out to Nate. “Please put these away.”

  “Sure thing, killer,” he muttered. “I’m Nate by the way,” he offered as he shook hands with the two gentlemen. They introduced themselves as Amery Walsh and Kent Moore. Their names sounded so familiar to her. She seriously needed to do better with names. It was literally in one ear and out the other. But she had this sick feeling that she should know them.

  “You the ball giver?” Kent asked with a chuckle.

  “Guilty as charged,” he answered.

  “Nice. The gift that keeps on giving,” Kent said.

  “See, Ly, that’s was I was thinking,” Nate said, slapping her on the arm. She shook her head and glared at him. Could she be any more mortified? Nope, not possible. And of course, Amery and Kent had to be completely attractive to just really rub salt in the wound. “Alrighty then, I guess I’d better go back to the corner over there and lick my wounds. I concede to my lady,” he said in his best British knight impression. Kent and Amery laughed as Nate walked back over to the table and placed the balls back in the box. The adorable old couple smiled at him as though they could just imagine what a great boyfriend he was. Lyla hung her head.

  “Thank you for returning my book,” she whispered. She felt Amery’s finger under her chin as he pushed her head up to face him.

  “You’re welcome. You sure you’re OK?” he asked.

  “I suppose I will live. It won’t be the first or last time that I’ve nearly died from complete mortification,” she sighed. “Nate is a good friend, but sometimes he just doesn’t think things through.”

  “So, he’s not your boyfriend?” Amery asked.

  Lyla laughed at that notion. “Uh, no. So not my boyfriend.”

  Amery’s head tilted at this statement, as though he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

  “Am, you want to wrap this up and go ice that schnoz of yours?” Kent asked.

  “Yeah, probably a good idea, considering the day we have tomorrow,” he agreed. “Listen, Lyla, it was good to see you again. Maybe, we’ll run into each other some other time. Not literally though, I hope.”

  “Sure. And sorry again. I feel so bad,” she said to him.

  “No harm, no foul. I’ll survive,” he said as Kent stood, and they made their way to the front of the restaurant. He turned when they reached the door and Lyla gave him a small smile and tiny wave. He nodded and walked out the door.

  Lyla walked back over to Nate.

  “Listen, I’m really sorry,” Nate said before she could open her mouth. “I mean seriously. I feel really bad.” Somehow, he had already ordered them a second round of martinis. Lyla grabbed hers without saying a word and downed it in one gulp.

  “Do. Not. Ever. Get. Me. Sex. Toys. Again,” she said, gritting her teeth.

  “Noted,” he said as he sipped his martini. “So, who the hell were those two hotties?”

  Lyla shrugged. “Just some guy I met on my flight and his friend.”

  “They look really familiar,” Nate said.

  “Yeah, that other guy especially looks familiar, but maybe I’ve seen him here before?” she suggested.

  “Could be,” he agreed.

  She shook her head. “I cannot believe that just happened. I want to die from embarrassment!”

  Nate laughed. “You have to admit, that was the funniest shit that’s happened in a long time.”

  She shook her head. “Just remember, karma is a bitch!”

  Nate nodded, and they finished their meal sans any more Kegel ball catastrophes.

  Chapter 3

  Amery

  He looked at his reflection in the mirror and groaned. Derek was going to be pissed. His nose wasn’t as swollen as it had been the night before, but it was discolored. Maybe he should call in sick? He groaned. He was fucked either way. Today’s photo shoot was going to be a total shit show.

  He couldn’t help smiling though when he remembered Lyla’s mortification over the Kegel balls. She was so fucking adorable. He wished he’d had the common sense to get her number last night, but the headbutt and the whole Kegel ball catastrophe must have had him off his game. He’d have to go back to that restaurant again. Perhaps, he’d run into her or her friend. He pondered this as he tossed his gym shorts in the laundry basket.

  He showered and dressed and headed into work. He had bought the place out in Howard County to get away from everything, but the commute killed him so much that most days he ended up at the small apartment near the stadium. However, last night Kent had called to have drinks, so he had crashed at home afterward. Kent didn’t live far from him. He was a local and his whole family was nearby, so naturally, they had coerced him into buying property that was less than ten minutes from each of his four siblings and his parents.

  His phone rang and announced Kent was calling. He sighed and told his car to answer the phone.

  “Good morning, pretty boy,” Kent said with a laugh. “How’s the face?”

  “Fuck off, Kent,” he groaned.

  “That good, eh?”

  “I’ll survive, but Derek is going to be pissed,” he said.

  “Well, I’m sure they can Photoshop it or something,” Kent said.

  “We’ll see. I’m almost there. You here yet?” he asked.

  “Yep, just pulled in. I’ll see you inside,” Kent said as they disconnected.

  Amery walked toward the locker rooms. He had been instructed that hair and makeup would be done here and then there would be a few shots out on the field since it was a nice early fall day. He walked into a flurry of activity. Kent was sitting in a chair while a lady with blue hair powdered his nose. Meanwhile, Derek sat on another chair talking on the phone and a bunch of people ran around them, holding various camera equipment.

  A buffet of food was against one wall. He walked over and grabbed a muffin and some coffee. As he turned around, Derek made eye contact with him and from the look on Derek’s face, he wasn’t pleased. He disconnected his call immediately and walked over.

  “What the fuck is this?” he asked, motioning to Amery’s face.

  “Sorry, yeah, I accidentally bumped heads with someone yesterday. Fortunately, it’s not broken, so we’re good. A little powder and we should be fi
ne,” he explained.

  “Jesus Christ, Am, seriously?” Derek grumbled.

  Amery really didn’t want to deal with it, so he scooted around Derek, and walked over to Kent and the crazy-looking makeup lady.

  “Excuse me, but who’s in charge. I’m up next after Kent here,” he said.

  “Oh, uh, shit, I forget her name. She’s prepping for Kevin, who’s outside setting up his cameras,” the woman said. “Uh, wait, there she is. Hey!” Kent and Amery turned toward where the woman was waving, and Amery couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that broke across his face at the sight before him.

  Lyla Perkins walked through the locker room carrying bags, a travel coffee mug, a pizza of all things, where she’d gotten that at this hour he had no idea, and a pair of shoes. Her head snapped up just in time to see them turn toward her and she lost her footing and went flying. Amery launched himself forward to grab her, but he didn’t reach her in time before her head made contact with a bench.

  Amery looked down at the now unconscious Lyla in his arms. She really was fucking adorable.

  “Oh wow, is she alright?” the blue-haired woman asked. Kent stepped forward and they all stared down at her.

  Lyla’s eyes fluttered open. She looked confused for a few seconds.

  “Hey there, killer,” he said as he mindlessly stroked her cheek. “You OK? You took quite a spill there. Kent, can you grab Mitch?”

  She looked up at the three faces peering down at her and blinked a few times. Amery held her head in one hand and felt the back of her head with his other hand. She winced.

  “Ouch,” she finally whispered and reached behind her head, her fingers intertwining with his over a small lump that had formed there. “Shit,” she muttered.

  “And get me some ice,” he added to Kent, who nodded and walked away.

  “Let’s see if you can sit up,” Amery said as he helped her to slowly sit. She wobbled slightly but managed to sit up and look at him.

  “How many fingers am I holding up?” he asked her.

  She blinked again. “Two.”

  “Good. Follow my finger,” he said.

  She did, but she moved her head.

  “Just with your eyes, Tinkerbell,” he said, letting his first impression of her slip from his lips. She followed his command.

  “Are you a doctor?” she asked him.

  “Nope, but I’ve had my fair share of concussions and you my friend have a mild one,” he announced.

  “Shit,” she muttered. “I can’t have a concussion.” Her eyes suddenly filled with tears.

  “Hey, it’s alright. You’ll be fine,” he assured her.

  “No, you don’t understand. I have to help Kevin,” she said as a tear slipped down her cheek and her lip trembled.

  “I’m sure we can find someone else to help Kevin,” he said, and he wiped the tear away before it reached her chin.

  She shook her head. “I’m his assistant,” she explained.

  “I see,” he said. Kent came walking up to them along with another man and knelt down with a packet of ice.

  “Here you go. This is our team doc, Dr. Mitch Finnigan,” he said to her and she placed the ice on the back of her head, wincing as she did so. Dr. Finnigan gave her a once-over and confirmed what Amery had already said. He told her to watch out for any signs of it worsening, but that she should be just fine. He handed her his card and told her not to hesitate to call him if she felt worse. She thanked him and looked up at Amery, who gave her a reassuring smile. Amery lifted her up and placed her on a chair before she could protest. A young man ran in and looked wildly around.

  “Oh, Lyla, Kevin is ready for Kent. Can you send him out?” the pimply faced kid said and then looked around in confusion.

  “I’m coming,” Kent said before looking back at Lyla. “You sure you’re OK. That was quite a spill. Impressive.”

  “Yeah, I’ll make it,” she said before turning to the kid. “Tell Kevin—”

  “That Lyla is helping sort me out and she’ll be out in a minute,” Amery said, cutting her off.

  The kid nodded. “Yes, Ms. Perkins.” And he ran back out the door with Kent walking slowly behind him.

  “You need to sit for a minute. Keep me company while I get my hair and makeup done,” he demanded.

  She sighed. “Fine,” she mumbled. He grinned and turned her chair to face him, while he sat down and let the blue-haired lady fix his hair and powder his face.

  “So, you work for Look and See?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “Yeah,” she said, her gaze not meeting his.

  “Don’t like it?” he prodded.

  “No, I mean, yes. It’s fine.”

  “Didn’t expect to see me again, huh?” he acknowledged.

  She shrugged and shook her head. “I suppose not,” she admitted.

  He leaned forward and placed a hand on her knee and her eyes shot up to meet his.

  “Don’t be embarrassed,” he whispered, his face much too close to hers. Her cheeks reddened, and he found her to be the most endearing creature he’d come across in quite a long time. “For what it’s worth, killer. I’m glad we crossed paths again.”

  She gave him a small smile and then the blue-haired lady yanked him back in his seat as she fussed with his unruly hair.

  Lyla

  She was pretty sure that embarrassment was a cause of death. Yes, it had to be. She sat in the chair opposite Amery Walsh with the ice pack on her head and watched as Nina got his hair under control and the shine off his skin. And now she knew why the name Amery Walsh had been so familiar. She had literally spent an hour staring at his name yesterday and completely forgot it by the time she went for drinks.

  Amery Walsh was, as Nate would say, H-O-T. This only made her more flustered. Also, she had been sent bios for all the individuals they were photographing this week. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t recognize Kent and Amery from their bio headshots. Was she that clueless? She felt like a total idiot, scratch that, she was a total idiot, ugh.

  “So, how’s the head?” Amery asked as he got up from the chair and reached for her head. His hand cradled her skull and he pressed lightly against the egg that had formed at the back of her head. She winced. “Keep ice on that, alright?”

  She nodded.

  “Why don’t you stay here for a few minutes?” he suggested.

  “No,” she whispered because she couldn’t speak. “I need to get back out there.”

  “Fine, but keep the ice pack on it,” he commanded.

  She rolled her eyes and slid out of the chair, wobbling slightly as she did so. Amery wrapped an arm around her.

  “Steady there, killer,” he said softly. He linked her arm in his and walked them out to the dugout.

  She squinted in the sunlight as she watched Kevin finish a few shots of Kent. Kent was also super attractive. Where Kent Moore was all dark-and-brooding type of handsome, Amery was the exact opposite. His crystal blue eyes seemed to draw her in and she had a hard time looking away.

  He looked down at her and she quickly looked away, embarrassed to have been caught ogling him. Embarrassed, yep, that pretty much summed up her entire existence around this man.

  “OK, Kent, I think I got it,” Kevin said as the two walked over to a computer that was tethered to his Nikon. The screen was filled with the shots he had just taken. They studied the photographs as Amery and Lyla walked up to meet them. Kevin had turned out to be a pretty alright guy in Lyla’s book. He wasn’t overly bossy. He took her opinions seriously and even had requested, Stewie, the intern, come to handle the more menial stuff.

  “Hey, what happened?” Kevin asked as he turned to see Lyla holding the ice pack to her head.

  “Tripped,” she mumbled.

  “You OK?” he asked, looking truly concerned.

  “I’ll survive,” she said, giving him a meager smile.

  “Alright,” he said slowly as though he wasn’t sure if he agreed with her.

  “Just a bump on her
head, Kev. She’ll make it,” Amery said to him as he turned back to her and gave her a wink. She really wanted to die. Could she not just get struck by lightning right now? She looked up at the sky, shit, not even a cloud.

  “Why don’t you sit here and mark the ones you think look the best?” Kevin suggested.

  She nodded and sat down. Kent sat down too and together they started going through the photos. Kent, as it turned out, was a comedian.

  “Let’s use this one,” he said, nudging her arm.

  She looked over at the monitor and rolled her eyes. “Yes, Kent, let’s use the one with your eyes closed and you facing away from the camera, brilliant idea!” she said, her voice laced with sarcasm.

  “No? You don’t think so, because I think that’s the money shot. I mean, come on, everyone is going to expect the classy headshot where I’m looking at the camera, but who would expect that?” he said, laughing at himself.

  “Right, yeah, Kent, this is exactly what we are looking for. I mean, heck, if this whole baseball thing doesn’t work out for you, I think you have a future in photography for sure. Clearly, you have an eye for the perfect shot,” she said, poking his arm. Damn, his arm was made of titanium or steel or something. Why the hell was it so hard? She pulled her finger away and looked up at him in awe, and he started laughing and flexed his bicep.

  “Jesus, what do you bench-press, the fans for your workout?” she asked him, her eyes widening at his bulging muscles.

  He kissed his bicep and smiled at her. “Well, I’m pretty sure I could bench-press you, squirt,” he chuckled.

  She rolled her eyes yet again. She got that a lot. She couldn’t help that she was small. She kind of hated it. Just because she was little didn’t mean she shouldn’t be taken seriously.

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to insult you,” Kent said, suddenly serious.

  “Oh, it’s alright. No harm, no foul,” she said and gave him a grin. He lightly punched her arm and then shook his hand like it hurt.

  “Damn, girl, you think I have guns, but what are you packing under that shirt? You might be able to bench-press me,” he said with a grin. She laughed and then shrugged.

  “I might be known to do some martial arts training on occasion,” she said smiling shyly.