by L. D. Davis
Wringing my hands, I said the one word that would change the entire course of my life. I said, “Yes.”
Oh god, I realized right after I gave him my answer. I just agreed to spend nine weeks with the most pompous, oversexed man on the planet. How will I survive his ego?
How long will it take me to renege on my promise?
A tiny, tiny, TINY voice way, way back in my head whispered Hopefully, not long at all.
Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith
Even if it doesn’t end your way
No one will ever tell me I didn’t fucking try
“Try”
Friction
I had to wonder if Alden Breck ever slowed down, if he ever slept. After dinner, I was ready to wilt, but Mr. Rock Star wanted to go to Atlantic City for the night. I fought him on it for a half hour before I finally gave in. I made sure that the room he booked had two bedrooms before I packed an overnight bag.
Later, I sat beside Alden at a high stakes poker table. I wasn’t much of a poker player, but Alden was apparently damn good. He was up twenty-five grand, which felt like a staggering amount of money to have earned in a couple of hours, but then again, Alden makes money sleeping. Friction’s albums and songs stay in the top 50.
Women hung around close by, trying not so discretely to get Alden’s attention. Every time he won a hand, they’d clap and cheer him on, bounce their boobs around, and say things like “Nice job, Alden. My room number is 234,” or “Alden, can I show you my poker face – in my suite?”
Puh-lease.
The nice thing was that Alden didn’t pay them any mind, not really. He’d flash a smile, maybe say something a little flirty, but otherwise, he focused on the game, and on me. After every hand he had won, I got a chaste kiss on my cheek and – god help me – every now and then, he’d run his knuckles over my cheek and down my neck. I put on my own poker face and pretended that it didn’t matter, but it affected my unused sexy parts dramatically.
After a couple of hours of basically sitting in the same position, I was beginning to feel a little sore. I slid off my stool, and Alden reflexively wrapped his arm around me.
“I need to take a walk and stretch a little,” I said quietly to him.
He looked at me with concern. “I’ll wrap this up then.”
I waved him off. “Play on, player. I’ll be okay on my own for a little while. I’ll be upstairs.”
He was just dealt a hand and couldn’t focus on both the hand and me. So, the bastard folded. Just folded, and threw away I don’t know how many thousands of dollars.
“You’re a fool,” I said, astonished.
He gave a nonchalant shrug. “You are more important than the money, Little One.”
After Alden collected his winnings, we made our way up to our suite, which, of course, was on the top floor and the biggest they had available. It was ridiculous, because we were only staying for the night. We didn’t need such a huge space, but I guess when you have more money than you can count, you can do whatever you want with it.
“How’s your pain?” he asked after we stepped inside.
“Tolerable. It’s not the worst physical pain I’ve been in,” I said but then wished I hadn’t.
“What’s the worst?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
Damn. I opened this can of worms and now I had to find a way to close it back up before too many got loose.
“My arm was broken last year,” I said as I went to stand by the large windows.
“How did you break your arm?”
A ghost of a pain shot through my arm as if it could remember the incident that broke it. I wasn’t ready to talk about that, and I didn’t know if I’d ever be ready to talk about that with Alden.
I started to tell him I didn’t want to talk about it, but I didn’t have to. My cell phone started ringing, my brother’s ringtone, and I practically ran to my bag to get it.
“Hello?”
“Why didn’t you call me when you got home from California?” Warren demanded.
“I’m sorry,” I said meaningfully. “I got…distracted…” I glanced at Alden. “And I forgot.”
I sat down on the couch, propped my feet up on the glass and pewter coffee table, and gave my brother ten minutes of my time. I gave him a brief rundown of my visit to Kristy, sans the trampling tramps incident, and reassured him that I was fine and that I didn’t need anything. I knew I would have to tell him about Alden and the galas, but I wasn’t sure how he’d take it, and I wanted to be alone when I discussed it with him.
“Your brother?” Alden inquired after I ended the call. He had kept his distance from me throughout the call, but then he joined me on the couch.
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“He’s very protective of you. I was under the impression you weren’t close.”
“He tries,” I admitted with a shrug. “It’s really only been this past year that he’s kept dibs on me like this. He feels bad about…” I trailed off when I realized I was about to give up too much information about myself.
“What?” Alden asked softly. “What does he feel bad about?”
I looked at him, studied his face, searching for…what was I searching for? Some sign that I could give him this piece of me and it would be okay? Would it backfire? Would he use it against me later? Would I wake up one day and find my story in some gossip magazine?
I was going to spend a lot of time with the guy. I was going to have to learn to trust him.
“My mother didn’t want us, either,” I said softly. He looked confused, since he didn’t ask about my mom, but he said nothing and let me continue. “One of my earliest memories is from when I was about three or four. My mom couldn’t keep a job – she blamed my brother and me. Without a job and no way to pay the bills, our electricity had been shut off. We were at my grandmother’s for the night. I had an accident. When my mom took me into the bathroom to clean me up, she was so angry. She said, ‘Noa, this is all your fault. I wish you were never born. I should drown you in this toilet.’”
Alden’s gaze darkened as he frowned. His hands on his knees balled up into fists, but still, he remained silent.
“There were periods when things were okay, or seemed okay,” I continued quietly. “I guess they were never okay. Warren stopped giving a shit after a certain age, but I was always trying to please my mom, to prove to her that I was worth more to her than being drowned in a toilet.” I gave a small shrug. “It was all for naught. Warren is four years older than me. He moved out when he was sixteen, leaving me with my mom. He blames himself now, but I never blamed him. He did what he needed to do to survive.”
“Blames himself for what?” Alden asked again, his voice rough and tight.
Maybe I had revealed too much. I could have given him a short and sweet answer, but I had told him things that no one else knew. Not even Warren knew what my mom had said to me in our grandparents’ bathroom that night.
Alden’s face softened and he put his hand over my twisting hands in my lap as he said my name with compassion. “Noa…”
“He…he blames himself for…for the things that happened to me after he left.”
His fingers caressed mine. “Like what?”
“There are some things I’ll never speak about, Alden,” I managed in a whisper. “My mom died when I was sixteen, but I had already left her and her string of boyfriends by that time.” Again, I gave away too much information. Alden cringed when I mentioned the string of boyfriends. I hurried on before he could say anything. “By the time I got into college, I was all fucked up. I dated all of the wrong guys, did too many drugs, and drank way too much. After I was arrested for possession and lewd conduct, I straightened myself out, with a lot of help from a friend. About a year later, I ended up in a bad relationship for three years. Warren blames himself for that, too,” I said, frowning deeply. “But none of it’s his fault – not my mom, not Larson. But he’s trying to make up for it all anyway.”
Alden’s
awesome hazel eyes bored into me.
“You went through a lot of shit,” he said quietly. “I’m guessing that the string of boyfriends added to your problems.” When I shifted uncomfortably, he rushed on. “I won’t push you on that one, but my point is…you endured a lot of shit, but none of that broke you. Larson was the one who finally broke you.”
I had this amazingly large lump in my throat. I put my hand to my neck as I nodded. “You could say he was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
“He broke your arm,” Alden concluded.
I gave a quick nod. Alden closed his eyes for a beat. I watched him anxiously. I had never revealed so much about myself at once to anyone, and I suddenly felt very stupid for doing it.
“Okay, we need…” He looked at me with a thoughtful expression and then jumped up. He went to the phone on the counter of the kitchenette and dialed. “I want one enormous hot fudge sundae with two spoons. I don’t really care if the kitchen is closed. Get someone to make it.”
He hung up the phone and turned back to me grinning. “We need ice cream.”
I managed to smile back at him as I got to my feet. I couldn’t help the wince that followed, though, as my hand shot to my aching ribs. Alden was immediately at my side.
“You’ve done way too much today,” he said, frowning. “That’s my fault. I’ll make an icepack for you. Go in your room and get comfortable.”
“It’s okay,” I said, though I was still wincing. “I’ll be fine. Besides, you need someone to help you eat that ice cream.”
Alden carefully turned me around with his hands on my shoulders. “To your room, Little Noa,” he said and then smacked my ass! “I will bring the ice and we will eat ice cream in your bed.”
“You’re a bully,” I said over my shoulder with my bottom lip poked out.
“Thanks,” he beamed.
I went into my room and closed the door behind me. I stepped out of my heels and peeled off my jeans before pulling my shirt up and over my head. That part hurt the most. I was going to change into a pair of pajama bottoms and a T-shirt, but I stopped in front of the mirror to assess the bruising on my torso. I seriously looked like I had the shit beaten out of me. I would know what that looks like…
I had just decided to move away from the mirror and get dressed when my door swung open.
“I have your…holy shit,” Alden cursed softly as he stopped in his tracks and openly gawked at me.
My face must have turned a million shades of red, but I tried to play it off. It wasn’t my first time semi-naked in front of a man. It was just my first time semi-naked in front of someone like Alden.
“You have seen Victoria’s Secret before, haven’t you?” I teased and extended my hand for the icepack.
He took a few steps toward me until he was close, too close. With his eyes locked on mine, he placed his hand over my heart where my tattoo was. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t have to. I understood the significance of that moment immediately. I had told him that he’d never see it, and he was up-close and personal with it.
“Fuck,” he said and took a step back. He ran a hand over his face and put the icepack in my hand. “I can’t bring ice cream in here with you dressed – or undressed like this. You’ll fucking melt it, Little One.”
“Don’t worry,” I said, turning my back on him to show how nervous I really was. “I’m about to put clothes on. The ice cream will be saved.”
“Shit. You know, it’s a good thing that I promised not to fuck you. You’d be a lost cause right now, girl.”
I pulled a T-shirt over my head. “Yeah, because my bruised ribs are so sexy,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“You have a beautiful shape under those bruises, but I wasn’t looking at your ribs, sweetheart,” he said with a heart-stopping smile.
“You’re a pig.”
“I’m a man.”
“Same difference,” I said with a snort.
I gave up on the pajama bottoms because I just wanted to lie down. Alden rearranged the pillows on the bed and held the blankets up for me. I slid into the bed and made some minor adjustments until I was comfortable.
Alden opened his mouth to speak again, but someone knocked on the door. Reluctantly, he left to answer it. He returned a couple of minutes later with the biggest sundae I had ever seen in my life.
“We’ll never finish that!” I laughed.
“Maybe not, but we can damn well try,” Alden said and settled down on the bed beside me.
We ate ice cream and talked about books, movies, and art. Alden didn’t ask me any more awkward questions or go on about my looks. We just talked like normal people, not ridiculously famous Alden Breck and the mousy N.H. Eddington.
I only had a few days to find my first dress. I was surprised when Alden said he’d take me shopping himself, and insisted on paying for everything I’d need. We argued about it for almost two days, mostly in text messages because we were each busy with our own things. Eventually, I gave in because I got tired of arguing about it.
When I got into the limo early Thursday morning, I expected a trip into Philly to one of the boutiques. What I could not have even dreamed up on my own was being ushered into a helicopter not far from my apartment.
I was so nervous. So fucking nervous. Flying on an airliner was one thing. Flying in a little metal cage was another entirely. Alden strapped me into my seat, chatting loudly about getting to New York faster. When he finally looked up at my face, he frowned and held my face in his hands.
“Are you afraid, Little One?” he asked.
“Terrified,” I admitted. I recalled an interview he did on the radio the previous week where he said he wasn’t afraid of flying, but he was afraid of falling. “I thought you had a big fear of falling? Helicopters fall. A lot.”
“I can’t not live my life because I fear something, baby,” he said. “But that’s just me. You have a choice. We can get off this thing right now and just drive up. Anything you want, Little One.”
First of all, he called me baby. Wow. Second of all, he was willing to throw all of his plans out the window for me.
I sighed and said, “No, I’ll be okay.”
“You sure?” he asked, ignoring the guys telling him he had to sit down.
I nodded. Alden did the most remarkable thing. He gently planted a kiss square on my lips and then took his seat beside me. After he was all strapped in, he put a pair of those headphone things on my head and put on his own. He held my hand in both of his and we were off. Or…up.
***
I spun around in a slow circle, feeling utterly ridiculous as Alden lounged in a chair, letting his eyes roam over me. I was in a beautiful emerald green dress that reminded me of something Scarlett O’Hara would wear. Even though she was my most favorite fictional female character ever, I couldn’t pull off her look.
“No.” Alden shook his head. He had kicked the sales lady out a long time ago. She wouldn’t focus on her task at hand, only on Alden. “I’ll go get you a few more. Try on the red one.”
“You’re really picky,” I said and turned around so that he could unzip me. Every time he zipped me up or unzipped me, his knuckles would trail slowly along my back. I shivered every time. I knew the bastard just enjoyed watching my body tremble.
“I’m not picky. You look great in anything you wear, Little One, but this is too much dress for you.”
“You should take a part-time position on the Style Network,” I said, walking back to the curtained off section of our little room.
While he was gone, I added the green dress to the four previous. Alden had only liked one dress, a white one with a scoop neck and an open back. It was really long, but with a pair of heels, I was able to manage. I just hoped I wouldn’t trip in it, or hell, spill anything on it. I slipped into a nude colored dress next. I gasped when I saw myself in it. It hugged curves I wasn’t really aware that I had. Though I had a substantial amount of breasts, this dress made them look far better than I c
ould ever recall them looking in anything. It had spaghetti straps, but the neckline plunged down between my boobs and ended just above my belly button. It covered enough so that no one could really see the bruises on my torso. My ass looked amazing, and for the first time ever, I appreciated the little extra ba-donk-a-donk.
“Need to be zipped up, Little One?” Alden’s voice sounded as he walked into the room.
I shoved the curtain aside and rushed out to meet him, my eyes aglow. He stopped walking, the dresses in his hands held high as if he were going to hang them up, but he was frozen. The only thing moving on him was his head and eyes as he looked at me from head to toe, and back up again.
“This one is a keeper,” I said excitedly.
“My god,” he whispered.
“I know, right?” I asked, moving over to the three-way mirrors. “I think this is the first time in my life that I’ve ever thought I looked hot.”
Alden hung the dresses up and walked over to me.
“Every dude at the gala is going to fuck you with their eyes,” Alden said, scowling. “You can’t have this dress.”
“What?” I put a hand on my hip as I glared at his reflection “You’re kidding me, right? I look great!”
“You look more than great,” he said. “You look like a fucking goddess and I don’t know if I want to see other dickheads worshiping at your feet!”
He let out a growl of frustration and then…I don’t know why I was so surprised…but then he actually reached into his jeans and adjusted his sea serpent. There was the compassionate, sweet Alden of the other night, and then there was this Alden, the one I wanted to kick in the face.
“Shit,” he growled.
“I finally look hot and you want me not to ?” I gasped and spun around to look at him. “You bastard – you’ve only been choosing dresses that don’t…I don’t know…flatter me.”
“Yes! Okay? Yes!” he put both hands in his already naturally messy hair. “Because after only four days, I already consider you to be mine and I don’t want anyone else to even think about going near you!”
