by K. T. Castle
This time he looked at me with different eyes. I didn’t see myself broken in them anymore. “I’m insanely attracted to you,” Josh said. “So fucking attracted to you. Everything about you completely melts me. And I want more.” He gazed intently at me. “Those gorgeous blue eyes of yours,The caramel color of your soft, perfect skin.” He raised the back of his right hand to trail it down my cheek. Then he tenderly brushed my lips with the pad of his thumb. “These lips. God, I want these lips all the time. The words that come out of them, so intelligent…so completely you…always finding a way to say the truth without hurting people’s feelings.”
Josh sounded so sincere that I wanted nothing more but for his words to be true and for my attraction to him be reciprocated.
“And you’ve got the most perfect body I’ve ever seen,” he added, slipping a hand around my waist and pulling me toward him. Josh tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, then cupped my cheek and bent down to place his lips to my neck. I sighed and could hardly move while he covered my neck and collarbone with slow, hot kisses. His other hand slid down my waist to grab my ass, and his kisses turned from playful to charged with intensity.
He pulled back, stared in my eyes, and said, “You’re perfect. Fucking perfect.” Then he covered my mouth with his.
At that moment everything felt perfect—his hands all over my body, his gorgeous mouth moving from mine to every available inch of my skin again, the hardness of his body as it pressed against mine. We seemed to mold together.
It was too much.
My senses were in overload.
I needed to calm down before we had sex right here by the coatroom.
While I tried to get some oxygen into my brain, his wandering fingers made their way up my thigh to reach beneath my dress and delicately trace the black lace garter I wore. “This thing has been driving me crazy since I saw it,” he confessed. “I want to take it off with my teeth and—”
“Oh, God. Josh, stop.” I held his hands with mine and begged him again. “Please stop.” I tried to turn away, but he held me in place with his strong hands.
“What’s wrong, baby? Tell me what’s wrong.” For the first time, he sounded agitated. So was I. But his words and actions were tender; clearly he didn’t want me to leave.
To be honest I didn’t want to leave, either, but I had to remember the reason I stayed away from guys like him. I wanted to believe his words.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I said. “You’re saying all the right things, but it’s too much right now.”
Josh looked me in the eyes and asked, “You don’t want me?”
“I do want you, but….” How could I tell him that as much as I wanted him, I didn’t want to end up heartbroken? Not again. “I can’t do this right now.”
“Why the fuck not?” Josh leaned away from me and finally let go of my arms.
God, I didn’t want to be rude or hurt his feelings, but I couldn’t just lie to him. “I’ve seen you with girls. Lots of girls,” I said. “I don’t want to be played around with.”
“That’s what this is about?” he asked with a frown. “You think I’ll play with you?” His voice lowered when he said, “I want you and only you.”
“You’ve been seeing Mindy, too,” I replied, finally letting it out. “I know, so don’t try to deny it. She’s your date tonight.”
“Mindy? You’re jealous because of Mindy?” Josh was almost laughing, and his concern seemed to lift all of a sudden.
“I’m not jealous.”
“Mindy’s my P.A.” he explained. “She works for me. So, yeah, I’ve been seeing her, too. But not in the way I want to see you. Not at all.” He took a deep breath and calmly continued his explanations. “We had a meeting today. When I got your message, I left as soon as possible and left Mindy to take notes for me. After the meeting, she brought my clothes. I was supposed to change at the office, but I forgot my suit and she brought it for me. I thought it’d be rude to send her back after doing me those favors, so I asked her to stay and enjoy the party.” He looked like he found it particularly difficult not to burst out laughing. “I believe I saw her flirting with the bartender.”
I stood there and frowned at him, folding my arms and trying to find something to say. My assumption may have been a little embarrassing, but I’d seen him with so many other young, beautiful women in so many other bars, I still wasn’t completely convinced.
He seemed to read my thoughts before he combed his fingers through his hair, exhaled, and asked, “Kass, do you know what I do for a living?”
The question took me off guard. I had no idea what he did, and at the moment, I had no idea what that could possibly have to do with this conversation. “No.”
“Well, that’s our first problem, babe.” He stepped a little closer. The tension in his limbs appeared to be loosening. He’d been clearly worked up but he still tried to get through to me anyways. “I work for a modeling agency. So, yeah, every weekend I go out to trendy places to scout new models. That doesn’t mean I fuck around with them.”
It felt the color drain from face. Apparently, there actually was a reasonable explanation for his lifestyle. Words completely failed me.
“I won’t lie and tell you that I never have,” he added, “but I’ve learned that scouting plus sex is not always a pretty equation.”
I had no idea how I felt about any of this; I couldn’t think straight. While I was ashamed of and embarrassed by my own assumptions, he seemed a little upset about them under his attempt to keep it lighthearted.
“I don’t know if I have anything to say,” I told him. Apparently, that wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear, and I saw the anger flash behind his eyes.
“It’s not like you’ve been saving yourself, Kass,” he said, sounding way more upset than I’d expected. “We met in the first place because you were at all the same bars, doing all the same things I did. Looking for someone to take home with you. None of that has made me think any less of you, and I don’t see why you should think any less of me for it, either. I suggest you figure out how to look past whatever it is you’ve thought of me before, because I think I’ve made it pretty obvious that I actually want a relationship with you, not just a fuck.”
I was speechless again, feeling like I’d just been run over by a train.
Josh stared at me for a few seconds, then gave me a pained frown. “Still have nothing to say?”
I literally could not find my voice.
“Goddammit!” he said through clenched teeth, then turned around and walked away from me.
I was astounded by his reaction, but I only had myself to blame. Everything he’d done had been in reaction to how I’d handled things. And I’d pushed him too far.
Chapter 12
Without telling anyone, I left the party; there was nothing keeping me there. When I got to my apartment, I sent a message to my friends, telling them that I felt sick and asking them to excuse my sudden departure.
Laura called me the next day. After quickly asking me how I felt, she told me how wonderful her party had been and how much everyone had enjoyed it. I was happy for her, really. She was my best friend, after all.
I realized I needed to find a way to let her know that I’d had a relationship with her husband-to-be while I’d lived in Boston, but I had no idea how to do it. After several minutes, her conversation gave an unexpected twist. She claimed to be concerned about me, that she’d seen the stress getting to me, and she confessed it might have been because of all her wedding preparations. Then she informed me that Denise had stepped up after I left the reception, saying she thought it would be great if we both worked together to prepare the rest of the events.
Wow. I was speechless.
I hadn’t asked for anything more than my friends’ help since this whole feat started. Only one of them had helped, and that had been Natalie despite her morning sickness and dizzy spells. Now, apparently they were commenting on my seeming inability to do it myself and had decided that Denis
e should help me out.
It was great, really, not because I couldn’t do everything on my own, but because I was definitely relieved to have some of the burden lifted from my shoulders.
So preparations for the bachelorette party started.
Most of it included Natalie, Denise, and me; Marisol seldom showed up.
Laura decided we all needed to have a chat to be in constant communication for the rest of her wedding preparations She called the chat: ‘Eddie + Laura = Love.’ For real. The group’s picture profile was a selfie of Edward and her in a passionate kiss—she looking sexily at the camera, of course.
How more high school could we get?
We really didn’t use the chat very much at all. At the beginning, Laura shared with us pictures of Bora Bora and the resort where the wedding would be held. After the first few days, she stopped commenting. Denise continued Laura’s trend of sharing pictures, but in this case they were mostly sex toy pictures in preparation for the upcoming bachelorette party. Her ideas for the party we were throwing in Vegas were funny and a bit wild; I kinda liked them. It surprised me that Laura agreed to have all of these things going on, but, then again, she and Denise had also been in constant contact. I guessed she wanted something Vegas worthy.
Besides Edward’s and Laura’s infrequent posts—Laura actually just sent messages under Eddie’s name “for him”—the best man posted ‘hello’ once, and that was it.
I wasn’t willing to admit it, but I did miss Josh. I missed his showing up at my place with coffee and doughnuts and his insight while planning all the wedding preparations. Now that more of my friends were involved, it was easier for me to push him out of my mind and concentrate on Laura’s nuptial needs.
Thanksgiving and Christmas passed. I couldn’t believe how quickly time flew. I also couldn’t believe that it was New Year's Eve and I didn’t have a date. I didn’t want to think much about it, but the last time I’d had a ‘date’ was the day Laura called me to tell me she was getting married. I wouldn’t do the math, but I knew it was a long time.
Regardless of me being dateless, I had my pick in parties to attend. Several of my clients invited me to their business’ New Year’s events. There was one in a really nice, trendy location, so I picked that one.
Without thinking much, I got ready for the celebration, deciding to wear a simple, black, sleeveless palazzo jumpsuit. I didn’t accessorize much—delicate platinum-and-diamonds hoops and a thin silver belt to emphasize my waist. My pumps were black and nine inches tall, of course. And to finish my ensemble, I chose a white blazer with a heavy, silver, embroidered detail on its rectangular-shaped lapels. The sleeves were only three-quarter-length, and they too were adorned with the lapel’s detail on the cuffs. I left my hair down in a curly, messy look, giving my attire a bit of a rock-and-roll effect. I decided to add that to my makeup. It was New Year’s, so why not be a little dramatic? I felt good, and I was pretty sure I could manage to get to know someone a little bit and finally put an end to my dry spell.
~*~
The new year party held by my client was a total blast. People had so much fun, drinking and dancing all over the place. Moet was offered in every corner, followed by any other cocktail and beverage for those who wanted a different poison. All around, everyone laughed and enjoyed themselves. Everyone but me.
After I arrived, I went straight to my client, Mr. Spencer. He was a twenty-three-year-old entrepreneur with an excellent eye for economics. We talked for a long time, and the conversation was actually rather interesting. Even if his eyes weren’t light in color, his hair was. He reminded me too much of the type of man I’d set for myself, but we were having fun. Then he got a little too touchy-feely. Right then, I decided it was best I excused myself and roamed about the party instead. Getting too comfortable with Spencer wasn’t going to be good for our business relationship.
Thirty minutes later, I decided I’d leave. It was almost eleven and still early, but I was done with the party and the whole single-girl situation. Guys were hitting on me, all right, only I wasn’t interested. I’d rather be at one of my friend’s houses than at a party full of people I didn’t care about at all. I might try Natalie’s house. She was hosting a party in her place with both her and her husband’s families. I knew I was welcome there; she had invited me, after all.
I went to my car, unlocked it, and turned on the engine. I definitely felt a little relief after getting out of that place. Why didn’t that scene appeal to me anymore? Was I getting too old for it?
I didn’t have the chance to get too deep into my feelings and thoughts because I almost lost control of my car when one of my tires went flat. Unfortunately, I was closer to downtown L.A. than to Natalie’s house, so it was time for those expensive extra car services I paid for to do their job and get my butt out of this mess. I totally hadn’t counted on all lines being busy, and I gave up after ten minutes of being on hold. Apparently, a lot of people were using such services tonight.
So I did the only thing I could think of—I sent a message to my friends to see who could come to my rescue. I decided to use the wedding chat, since they were all on there—killing more than two birds with one stone.
Me: Hey, guys. Sorry to be a burden. I got a flat tire and I’m in the middle of Hollywood Fwy close to exit 11B. Can someone come help me out?
Sadly, as expected, no one answered my S.O.S. They were all probably busy with their different engagements, enjoying their night.
I kept trying to get in touch with my road support, completely unsuccessful. I seriously considered calling a cab and getting myself home. The highway felt peculiarly lonely, most likely because it was New Year’s Eve and just before midnight. Then my cell phone beeped out its text message alarm.
This message didn’t come from the group chat.
Josh: Did you get anyone to help you out?
Me: No. Guess they’re all busy. I’ve given up on waiting for road support and I’m calling a cab to get myself home. Thanks, anyway.
Josh: Hold on a sec. I’m close. Be there in 5.
Me: That’s all right. No biggie. I don’t want to impose. I’ll be fine.
Josh: OMW. Stay put. 2 min away.
Me: Ok, Thanks. I’ll wait.
Before I could think of anything else, a red Challenger parked behind my car. A dark silhouette exited the fancy sports car, and I easily recognized Josh. As he approached, I got out of my car and took a moment to breathe him in. He looked gorgeous.
He wore a very interesting mustard coat which covered his dark outfit underneath—a black and gray scarf tied up in European style around his neck and a dark fedora hat, making him look movie-star striking.
“Vixen can’t change a tire?” he asked, followed by, “Afraid you might break a nail?” I looked into his deep gray eyes. Something I couldn’t place boiled inside them. “Want me to google a ‘how to’ video and send it to you so you can learn?”
To be honest, I didn’t know why he was being so vicious with me. I clearly remembered how well things hadn’t ended between us the last time we’d seen each other; but, had it been enough of a reason to make him behave this way?
When he stepped closer to me, he gave me a shy smile, changing my perception. Maybe he wasn’t being heartless with me; maybe it was just his sarcasm. I knew him well enough now to know he had a dark kind of humor, and realizing this reminded me how bad I felt for the way things had turned out at Edward and Laura’s engagement party.
“Vixen knows how to change a tire. Vixen doesn’t have a jack,” was the response I gave, just to lighten the mood.
What was he thinking? I was a single woman living in L.A. Of course I knew how to change a tire. Regretfully, I’d lent my jack to one of my dates around six months ago and never saw it again. Couldn’t really complain, though, because I never saw that man again, either.
“Well, Vixen’s lucky. I have a jack she can borrow,” Josh told me as I looked in his eyes again, trying to decipher his mood. He leaned
against my BMW Coupe before he asked, “Now the question is, is Vixen changing the tire?”
“I don’t really care.” I didn’t mind doing the job on my own, but the new nickname he’d given me had started to get on my nerves. “But can you please go back to using my name?”
“Sure, Kassandra.”
Well, it wasn’t Kass or babe, as he used to call me, but it was better than vixen.
“Thanks,” I said as I leaned next to him alongside my vehicle. “I don’t mind changing the tire on my own if you lend me your jack. If you have to go back to whatever party you were at, it’s okay.” He tilted his head and looked at me, probably deciding if I was bluffing or not. “Can I borrow it, please?”
“Don’t be silly, Kassandra. I can help you out.” He turned and walked the short length to his classic American muscle car. I followed him to get the tool, completely unable to gauge how he felt. I myself felt uncomfortable, tense. It wasn’t right. I’d always felt so at ease with him around and I wanted to mend things between us. I didn’t want that invisible distance to be a barrier in our relationship. Even if it was only supposed to be friendly.
Josh looked around in his trunk to find the much-needed device. I reached for his hand and stopped him. “Wait,” I said.
He looked back at me. I was sure I saw doubt behind his eyes, like he wondered why I stopped him instead of getting the deed done so I could leave. “I don’t like this,” I told him honestly. The uneasiness around him drove me crazy.
“I don’t understand,” Josh pointed out as he crossed his arms.
“This. How we are,” I tried to explain, apparently without much success. After a second of silence, I tried again. “We need to talk first.”
Josh just looked at me. I reached for one of his hands, getting him to uncross his arms so I could get some strength from his warm touch. I breathed in and finally said what I needed to say. “I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t enough. Even if his stance was a little more relaxed and I felt like a huge weight lifted from my body, I needed to apologize correctly. “I…I’d assumed things about you with the little information I knew about your life, because I’m afraid to have more than a fling with anyone. I’ve told you this. That fear just got worse when I found out you and Edward are friends, and I turned you into everything he represents in my past. I wasn’t fair. I’m really sorry.”
