“All seems fine.” He handed me the keys.
Too easy. When I got in the elevator, my phone rang. It was Pete.
“What are you playing at?” he asked.
“I’m playing at making dinner. Have you seen Devon? He needs a good, home-cooked meal.”
Pete sighed. “Well, don’t snoop around or he’ll kill you. And if you do see anything that says where he’s gone, ring me.”
I agreed. Of course, I wouldn’t snoop around. Well, not noticeably.
Since I hadn’t actually planned to cook dinner. I hoped there would some food already in the apartment. I’d not been there before and was a bit overwhelmed when I walked in. Firstly, it was swanky but secondly, it was not exactly clean either. I guess Devon was too busy to clean.
I sat on the sofa. The place where Devon sat. And I put my lips to one of the glasses, the place where Devon had put his. I went to the toilet and… you get the idea.
After that, I figured I really should clean up. The fridge was pretty much bare. Just some wine and containers of undefinable muck. I threw all that out. We could order food in. That would be easier. Truth be told, I wasn’t much of a cook anyway.
I washed the dirty dishes and wiped everything down. Then I went into the bedroom. There were a few bedrooms but I found the one with Devon’s clothes in the wardrobe.
I stripped the sheets off his bed. It might’ve been creepy but I kind of balled those sheets up and took a deep whiff. I wanted to fill my nose up with the smell of Devon. Then I put them in the washing machine because they weren’t all that clean.
Then I went through the bedside table drawer. Some condoms — good, he was having safe sex, half a pack of cigarettes, a paperback book and a bunch of business cards. Boring. Even if Pete hadn’t told me not to snoop, there was nothing worth snooping at in this apartment. Under the mess, it was all like a hotel room, with no personal touches. He had a few guitars. Other than that, nothing. Surely, people had other things. Their precious things that they kept near them. I had all my FORSAKEN scrapbooks and t-shirts and other merchandise. Those were the things I liked to see when I woke up in the morning and the things I liked to see before I went to sleep.
I had no idea where he’d gone but soon he’d be home and he’d be so happy to see the difference I’d made to his messy apartment. I gathered up all his clothes from the floor and put them in the laundry hamper. I put the dishes littering the benches in the dishwasher. I dusted and scrubbed. I opened all the curtains to let the sunshine in. The place gleamed. He’d be so happy, coming home to this shiny, clean apartment, that he’d soon see what a wonderful non-fake girlfriend I’d make. Maybe I should cook something. The smell of freshly-baking food would make it even more homey.
I’d told Pete I’d post pics online but with no Devon, there were no pics to post. Maybe I could take photos of things around the apartment. What would fans want to see?
I went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Snap. They’d love to see that for sure.
Then I went into the bathroom and took a photo of his toiletries. I posted both of them.
I turned on the TV and got comfortable. A little while later, I checked my social media accounts. Holy hell, they’d gone nuts. I had a zillion likes on my photos.
“Take a photo of his underwear,” someone had posted. Then there were about 500 responses saying “yes!”, “yes!”, “boxers or jocks?”.
But he’d kill me. Surely he’d kill me.
Still, I was like the representative of his fans and those fans had a point. People did want to see Devon’s underwear. It wasn’t like I’d take a photo of the dirty stuff in the laundry hamper, just the clean ones in the drawer. He wouldn’t mind that, surely.
I opened the drawer. The man had some seriously expensive underwear by the looks of it. Damn, it was a pretty even mix of boxers and jocks. I guess that kept everyone happy.
I snapped my picture then posted it. The fans would love me for it.
Because I’d been working my heart out, I’d gotten a little sweaty. That’d be no way to greet my boyfriend when he returned from who knows where. I’d take a shower and clean myself off.
One day, all this would be mine. This swanky apartment and the fantastic view over the city and all the things. But even without it, all I needed was Devon. We could live in a hovel and I’d be happy.
There was no trace of any of his women in the bathroom, or the rest of the apartment. I guess he didn’t bring them here. But I was different. I was his girlfriend. His steady girlfriend. Not just a one-night stand.
I found some bath products in the back of the cupboard. The container hadn’t been opened. It looked like a present that he’d never used. I started to strip off. I’d get all clean and nice, in Devon’s shower where he stood around naked, then Devon would be home and we’d have a lovely dinner together. Maybe he’d want to go out but I thought dinner at home would be much better. Just the two of us, without fans interrupting. We’d have time to talk and really get to know each other.
I was about to get in the shower, when a door slammed.
I waited, not sure if it was in this apartment.
“What the fuck is going on here?” a voice bellowed.
Oops. He did not sound happy.
Chapter 12.Devon
I drove the whole way home, just craving my own space. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts of Julie. I wanted to lay them all out and try to put them in some kind of order. That’d never worked before but maybe this time, I’d sort it all out. Just me and a bottle of scotch, we should be able to solve something.
As soon as I opened the door to my apartment, I knew something was wrong. The smell. It didn’t smell like my apartment. I checked the number on the door and yeah, it was mine.
I walked in and the place had been destroyed. My things, all my things, had been in order. Now they were gone. I’d been robbed!
The television set was still in place, the laptop and anything else worth stealing. Only my dirty dishes and other crap I had spread around the place were gone?
I yelled out. Hollering through the apartment. Fucking Pete. It had to be him. He’d sent a cleaner over or something. I got out my phone to give him a blast but, before I could punch in his number, an apparition came running out of the bathroom. She saw me, then shrieked and hid in the kitchen.
“I don’t have chicks in my apartment. Get out!”
She pouted, stepping out of the kitchen with a towel wrapped tightly around her. “I’m not a chick. I’m your girlfriend.”
Fucking hell. I’d forgotten all about that stupid deal that Pete set up. I’d kill him.
“You aren’t my girlfriend. You’re my fake girlfriend. Although, why anyone with any self-respect would agree to that is beyond me. I have no idea how you got into my apartment and I have no idea why, but get dressed and leave.”
That made her pout more. Hell, I had a pouting marshmallow in the middle of my apartment when all I wanted was booze and misery.
She was a fan, I got that, but this was definitely crossing over that line. I loved my fans but I had to protect myself from the weirdos. And, after the day I’d had, dealing with a weirdo was far more than I could cope with.
A bag of clothes sat on the sofa. I threw them at her. “I said, get dressed and leave.”
The bag broke and the clothes tumbled onto the floor. There were two t-shirts. I could see one said, “Devon *hearts* Daisy”. I picked it up.
“What the hell is this?” I thrust the t-shirt at her. “Devon hearts no one. Get it? No one, and definitely not some marshmallow. I agreed to this stupid deal but do NOT ever overstep the line.”
With that, I went out on the balcony and lit up a cigarette. I’d give her five minutes to get dressed and leave. This was the last thing I needed in my life. I could hear her sob but I ignored it. If I softened with her now, I’d never get rid of her. This was the best thing for her. She’d see that eventually. It’d do her no good to hang around with someone like
me.
I turned and could see her inside. She’d opened the curtains. I never opened them. I hated the sun. All that shiny stuff, getting in my eyes and annoying me. Darkness was my friend.
She sat on the sofa, crying. Making no move to leave. I’d give her some more time. Surely she’d want to never see me again after that. I didn’t want her to see me watching her so I moved to the side of the window. She didn’t move. She just sat there, crying. Heaving with huge sobs.
Shit, I was mean.
No, she just wanted me to think like that so I’d weaken. She’d get sick of crying when she realised it had no effect on me, and then she’d leave. The towel barely covered her and her marshmallow legs stuck out. To be honest, they weren’t that marshmallowy. She had good legs, I’d give her that. I turned away and leaned on the balcony railing. She kept sobbing.
Screw it. I went back inside.
“What’s wrong? You know this is a fake relationship, right? You can’t just come into my apartment and clean.”
When I said it like that, it didn’t sound so bad. Getting angry with someone for cleaning was weird but why would anyone do that? I didn’t like my stuff moved. I had things in order. A chaotic order, but an order nonetheless.
“I wanted to help you.”
I sat down on the sofa opposite her. Mascara streaked her face. I picked up a box of tissues and handed them to her. She blew her nose, then sat up.
“I’ll go then, if that’s what you really want.”
“You could get some clothes on first.” She was still wearing the towel wrapped around her. “Is that some sexy come-on thing?”
“I was having a shower after I finished cleaning.”
Aha, that made so much more sense. This girl, Daisy, didn’t seem like the “getting naked in your apartment” type. That was more a seasoned groupie trick.
She pulled the towel tighter around herself and stood up.
“Did you have your shower or did I interrupt you?”
She shook her head. “I never had it.”
“Well, at least shower. And maybe fix up your makeup.” I gave her a grin. Now she’d stopped crying, she seemed more reasonable.
“Oh,” she said. “Ring your manager. He’s worried about you.”
I sighed but she disappeared into the bathroom without saying more. I rang Pete and he, of course, blasted me. I didn’t want to go into the whole Julie thing. I never discussed her with Pete or anyone else much. I’d rather look like an irresponsible dick than go into all that.
“Yeah, I understand. Don’t pee your pants over it. I’m back now. No harm done.”
Then Pete laughed. It took me a minute to register what he’d said. She’d posted what on the Internet? I’d kill her.
I’d not expected to be hungry after today but I was starving. There was nothing cooking in the oven, not even any food in the fridge. If someone was going to break into your house and do the cleaning, they’d surely make a casserole or something at least.
I opened the fridge door again, just in case I’d missed something the first time.
“Hungry?”
Hell, that was the quickest shower ever. She was dressed at least.
“You posted my underwear on the Internet!”
She grinned. “The fans wanted to see it.”
I folded my arms and glared at her but the glare didn’t sink in. “There are a lot of things the fans want to see but that doesn’t mean they get to see them. You have to understand that there’s a line. The fans are on one side, and I’m on the other. I love them, but from a distance.”
She gave me the finger guns. I wasn’t sure if that was an adequate expression of understanding but then she wouldn’t be getting into my apartment alone again.
“Soz, I got a bit carried away.”
If I hadn’t been so hungry, I’d have kicked her out then and there but that would just delay the food-getting process.
“I’m starving. You didn’t cook anything when you were playing girlfriend in my apartment?”
“I was going to make dinner but I’m an awful cook. And you had no edible food.”
“So, what was your plan?”
She just stared back, not replying.
“Come on, you must’ve had some idea built up in your head of how this evening would go. I mean the food part, not the kissing part.”
She blushed. It was incredible. I’d not met a woman in years who was capable of blushing. None of them even had the concept of shame. Not that shame was a good thing, not one bit, but obviously Daisy had some fantasy of me in her head and was embarrassed to be caught out.
I liked the blushing. I moved closer to her just so she’d blush more. She smelt like sweetness. “What was your plan, Daisy?” I said, leaning in closer.
I was flirting with her. Why was I flirting with her? She had to go, and I’d never get rid of her like this.
“I thought we could order something in.”
Now she was not only blushing but her voice had gone all husky. I wasn’t even touching her and she was ready to go. Hell, if I got any closer to her, I’d unleash a fury of desire. I’d have her whimpering and moaning with just a look. She was way too naive for me.
Even as I thought that, I realised my cock had other ideas. The hard length of it pressed against the fabric of my jeans, throbbing hard for her.
“Maybe you should stay for dinner,” I said, before I could stop myself.
Chapter 13.Daisy
I’d thought everything was ruined until Devon asked me to stay for dinner. I knew sometimes I could put people off with my over-enthusiasm but I’d only wanted to do the best for him. I hadn’t meant to cry. I despised myself for crying but it had just seemed like I’d been promised the world. I held the glittering prize in my hands only to have it snatched off me.
Even though I wanted to walk out the door, keeping my pride firmly in place, all the disappointment welled up from the pits of my belly. I’d gulped and clenched my hands, willing myself to just leave. Then that belly gunk overwhelmed me.
Devon had been disgusted. I could read that in his face before he walked out. That just made it worse. The more I tried to control myself, the worse the sobs became. I thought he’d stay out on the balcony until I’d left but then he’d walked back inside. I’d braced myself for even more disappointment but he’d asked me to stay.
I followed him into the kitchen.
“What do you pick?” he asked, pulling some delivery menus from a drawer.
I began salivating and not just from the thought of food.
“You’re drooling,” he said. He pursed his lips as he looked at me but his eyes sparkled. He was amused.
“Am not.”
“Oh, you totally are. And I find it offensive when a woman drools over something that’s not me.”
I laughed. I’d drool over him plenty. Now we would have dinner together and everything would be perfect. My skin prickled with his closeness and my body was on hyper-alert. Having his gaze locked on me was a fantasy come true. I wanted to freeze this moment, maybe put it in one of those snow globes. Just Devon and I so close that our bodies almost touched in his now-clean kitchen. I wondered if he’d kiss me.
“Do you want to fuck me?” he said, his words a challenge and the look in his eyes enough to make me break out into a cold sweat.
“Um… ah… no!”
“You lie.”
Of course I was lying but I couldn’t blatantly say to him that I wanted nothing more than for him to throw me onto my back and rip my panties off me. That would be the best possible outcome right now because my panties were getting wetter every minute. Was he thinking about fucking me? Was that why he asked? I should say yes. Embrace this opportunity, and Devon, with both hands. My whole body burnt. I couldn’t breathe.
“Good,” he said, before I could answer him. “Because this arrangement is just business.”
The tears threatened again. What a prick thing to say. Of course I wanted to fuck him. Every woman
wanted him. That was his job, making himself completely and utterly fuckable. Why’d he even asked? To humiliate me?
If he wanted it just business, why did he stand so close? Because it was impossible to think when his skin almost brushed against mine. As he reached over to get one of the pizza menus, the slight fuzz of hair on his arm did brush against me, all tickling and nice. Darts of lust shot through my body, from my arms to my feet and back to my heart. I tried to clear my head but my head wasn’t clearing.
I snatched the menus and took them back into the living room, flopping onto the sofa. All thoughts of dinner had left my head though and I didn’t care one iota about food. I waited for Devon to follow me out but he stayed in the kitchen. Even though the kitchen was open to the living area, I sat so my back was to him. I couldn’t turn around now. I’d not give him the satisfaction.
Maybe he just decided to stay in the kitchen to avoid me. This night was not working out at all like I expected. I flipped through the menus again. Pizza would be good. But what about Devon? He obviously ate pizza or he wouldn’t have the menu. But I wanted to look like a classy chick. I checked the menus again. There was one for a fancy place but the prices were insane. Hell, who paid that kind of money for food? It was almost my weekly wage. And I didn’t understand what half the food was on there. What if I ordered something disgusting and it’d cost so much that I had to eat it?
Finally, Devon came out of the kitchen. He held two glasses of wine in his hands.
“This is the expensive stuff so don’t spill it,” he said.
As if I would. God, now I’d just be thinking about not spilling it and be extra anxious.
“Have you decided?”
“I’ve been thinking about…” I tried to pronounce the name but I had no idea.
“No, you haven’t. You think that’s what you should order but you really want pizza. Just say you want pizza if that’s what you want.”
Was he a mind reader?
“Okay, I want pizza.”
“Good, me too. Pepperoni?”
I nodded. That sounded good. I picked up the wine glass, very carefully while Devon phoned in our order. It was amazing wine. So much better than the stuff I normally drank. But then, the wine I normally drank was house wine.
Bad for You (Fallen Star Book 4) Page 6
