reputation

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  I watched her bright lips part, surprise and disbelief registering on her face. In slow motion, she and Taylor looked around, all of us silently praying that no one had heard the obnoxious announcement.

  Prayers don’t travel as fast as word of a superstar sighting.

  Taylor pushed her towards us. The guys and I stood, closing the distance around her, but it wasn’t enough. The whole bar drew in like parasitic months to a fruitful flame, asking for autographs, photos, and several obscene requests from the really drunk assholes. Normally, she gave into this shit and probably would have signed bar napkins until the sun came up or until they ran out. But this wasn’t a safe space for that.

  “You lookin’ for a new boytoy, Blake?” Some giant bald guy asked, trying to push through Taylor to get to her. “I’ll be your boyfriend for the weekend,” he continued to offer with a slur. “I don’t mind if you use me, sweets.”

  Red rage shot through my blood.

  Taylor stumbled to the side as he pushed right through her and reached for Blake. I shoved myself in front of the asshole, briefly catching the hurt and concern mingle over Blay’s face.

  “I think you need to take a step back, jackass,” I growled at him. Murder never seemed so possible until that moment.

  “Why?” he asked dumbly. “You her latest boyfriend or somethin’? Maybe she’d be interested in two at a time. Be able to move through them a lot faster that way.”

  I heard her gasp behind me—and that was before my hand shot out and wrapped around this drunk motherfucker’s throat.

  “Keep talking and the only thing that’s going to move a lot faster is my fist through your fucking face.” I squeezed for emphasis, enjoying how his face seemed to turn purple for a second. Throats were a lot softer than footballs.

  He choked and doubled over when I let go and then the crush of people clamoring to get closer pushed him away before I could do more damage.

  “I’ll be your next boyfriend, Blake. I’ll even let you dump me in the morning.”

  “Let’s get the paparazzi in here!”

  I watched the fear shudder of her face as the flashes of cell phones now began to distantly register. Fuck this shit. I hauled Blake against me and, gripping the back of Bobby’s collar to use him as a shield, I pushed us through the crowd and out the door.

  Everything had gone from fine to frenzy faster than you could say ‘fearless.’

  All those photos that had been posted in the last thirty seconds had done the trick. Once outside, we saw a different crowd—one leashed with professional cameras and heading directly towards us.

  “Is this what you were hoping for?” I growled at her like it would make the situation better.

  Unfortunately, all I could think that there was someone here who didn’t like her or her music, who didn’t know her but hated her, and decided that tonight was a good time to try to harm her. All I saw was her face as random arms tried to reach through us for her. I hated that she’d put herself in this position. I hated that she thought I could protect her. Mostly, I fucking hated that I would die to protect her but it still wouldn’t be enough.

  “W-we have to get back,” Taylor said with a shaky voice. “Let’s just call an Uber or something.”

  “No,” I shouted. “Keep moving.”

  I realized that my grip was biting into the soft skin of Blake’s arm. Good. I wanted to bite into her. I wanted to punish her for doing this.

  We rounded the next corner and I turned to Alex, “The hotel is only a few blocks away. They are going to catch up to us if we have to wait for a car. You guys take Taylor back. Stay on this road and they’ll all follow you. I’ll cut over another block with Blake and we’ll meet you back there.”

  I didn’t wait for any agreement. Reaching up, I yanked the hat off Blake’s head and handed it to Taylor, praying that it was enough to confuse the two of them in the dark.

  Track 06: Shame on Me

  “Fool me once, shame on you.

  I knew you were trouble yet twice I fell.

  So shame on me now,

  I knew you’d pretend not to see me drown.”

  I NEVER TOOK SHOTS. I’D taken two in the past thirty minutes. Brilliant.

  My head spun like a merry-go-round that was anything but merry as Zach pulled hard on my arm, tearing us away from the rest of the group.

  “Christ,” I heard him swear as I stumbled into the back of him.

  “You’re going too fast.”

  “Do you want to be mobbed by the paparazzi right now?” He sounded so angry. And annoyed. And like he needed to be kissed.

  Two drinks and ten years disappeared. I was fifteen again and he was the gorgeous boy who was treating me like a foolish little girl.

  And maybe I was.

  I shouldn’t have left the hotel without security, but I just wanted to water that seed. I just wanted one night where I was off-duty. That feeling was always the worst right after spending time at home and then being thrown back into the twenty-four-seven fame game.

  I’d walked off stage to learn that Zach and the band had gone out for pizza and celebratory drinks. Because they could. Because they didn’t have to worry about getting mobbed by the press or stalked by sincere and crazy fans alike.

  “Zach, I need a break,” I pleaded softly, my stomach rolling with the alcohol and the Big Mac—which was turning out to be more like a Big Mistake.

  “You can have a break when we get back to the hotel and you are safe,” he said roughly, pointing ahead of him to One Miami that was just a block away.

  There were no gray areas with him. All black and white. Harsh. Definite. Decisive.

  And reading into his protectiveness would have definitely been another mistake. A familiar and harsh one.

  Like drinking coffee that’s too hot. I got burned every time, but that still didn’t stop me from doing it and expecting a different result. Some would remind me that that is the definition of insanity.

  I wouldn’t disagree.

  I’d always been a little crazy when it came to Zach Parker.

  I tripped over crack in the sidewalk, stumbling again. “No! Stop!” I insisted, yanking my arm back out of his hand. I took an unsteady step backward and my vision wavered, his harshly handsome, albeit aggravated, face coming back into focus.

  And then I saw it.

  Heard it.

  The waves crashing in the darkness just beyond him. The beach was right there. Completely empty. All mine.

  This was what we’d left the hotel for. I’d bribed Taylor into my plan for burgers and then a stroll on the beach. For the past two days, all I wanted to do was put my toes in the ocean that I could see from my tower—even if it was for just a second.

  But being on tour is like driving a Ferrari—everyone loves to look at it all nice and shiny; everyone wishes they could go that fast. What they don’t realize is that it doesn’t stop to let you out to enjoy the sights that are flying by.

  My eyes stuck in his honeyed ones for a split second before I was off. Adrenaline was the only answer for how my feet carried me so surely and steadily across the boardwalk and down the stairs, Zach’s heavy footsteps just behind mine.

  “Blake!” he yelled hoarsely after me.

  I ran from him like my life depended on it. It didn’t. But my sanity did.

  The water was so close. I tore off my shirt, turning to throw it back in his face, hoping it would slow him down, only to realize he was right there.

  I’d have a better chance of outrunning an airplane than I would him. Or, you know… how much I wanted him.

  A strong arm locked around my waist, hauling me back against him—and even my long legs couldn’t touch my feet to the ground as he held me like I was nothing more than a ragdoll with my back to his chest.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Blake?” he demanded in my ear.

  I whimpered, “Please, Zach…” In a blurred blink, I’d gone from angry and defiant to sad and lonely, topped with inte
nse longing. “We snuck out so that I could come to the beach,” I admitted quietly in defeat. “I just wanted to go in the ocean… once… while we were here. Without the crowds and the people and the drama.”

  The last thing I needed was another beach trip invaded and then ruined by the press. When I was dating Xavier, we’d gone out to his house in the Hampton’s and had been photographed in the ocean. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t insisted on making a fashion statement, wearing an “I heart my #Blay” t-shirt. Of course, I thought it was cute at the time. I also thought he was cute at the time. And just like the shirt, he—and all his feelings for me—had just been for show.

  “Please, can I just touch the water…” I trailed off, no longer caring if he thought I sounded like a whiney, drunk baby. I just wanted to feel something real because everything around me—the show, the fans, the attention, Zach—they were all fake. “Just for one minute and then we can go…”

  He didn’t budge. My chest still heaved from the full-on sprint that I hadn’t done in years. Even though I couldn’t move, there was no slowing my racing heart—not with him pressed flush against me, his firm fingers gripping into my now-bare stomach locking my hips against his. In the stillness, I listened to the ocean, feeling the crash of each wave in the ragged, humid breaths that he exhaled against my neck.

  His body realized just where he had me as his length grew harder against the curve of my ass. Biting my lip, I held back my retraction; I didn’t want to go in the ocean anymore. I wanted to stay right here where the desire crashing over us was all too real.

  A groan ripped from his chest before I was practically shoved forward.

  “Two minutes,” came his gruff reply, yanking my shirt from my hand.

  If I couldn’t drown in him, the ocean was the next best thing.

  My shorts dropped into the sand and then with a delirious smile that I could only attribute to the intoxication of freedom, I ran towards the dark, glistening water.

  So cold.

  Freezing.

  Freedom.

  I let out a yelp, but didn’t stop until the water was up to my chest, the tiny waves cresting just over my shoulders.

  That was the thing about the cold—it always brought you back to reality. It made every cell—every molecule—in your body contract with the reminder of life. More and more, I began to feel like I was trapped in my own world and reality orbited around me. I was a fixture in space as the real world—real people and real feelings—circled just out of my reach.

  It was beautiful up there. It was breathtaking. It was awe-inspiring to feel like the center of the universe.

  But it was lonely.

  And sometimes, I didn’t want my breath to be taken away. Sometimes, I just wanted to breathe. I wanted to inhale emotions—good, bad, and ugly.

  Sometimes, I wanted to feel the sting of the cold, real world.

  “Blake!”

  My eyes jerked open at Zach’s voice. If anyone could break through to give me that sting, it was him.

  “Come in!” I shot back, knowing I was going to be turned down.

  I was surprised his disapproving glare didn’t part the seas, demanding my exit, as he stood at the edge of the water, holding my discarded clothes.

  Goosebumps ran down over my body, chasing the water from my skin. My nipples poked out against my bikini top, the wet fabric clinging to their upturned peaks. It was even colder getting out of the water, but my body’s reaction had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with him.

  Who needed the sun when those eyes were staring at me like that?

  I felt the cold evaporate off of me under the heat of his gaze. He was drunk and hungry. Ok, maybe not drunk like me, but his guard was momentarily not sky-high.

  I stopped, still standing in the water that was mid-calf.

  “Remember the one time you and Ash had a mud fight outside your house?” I asked, the memory suddenly vivid in my mind.

  “Blake, we need to go,” he said, holding my clothes up.

  “Do you remember?”

  “Yes, of course I remember. Mud fight. We were boys. We played in dirt,” he ground out in annoyance. “Let’s go.”

  His eyes told a different story. Pure longing. For me—all length, legs, and pale limbs. He stared at me like I was a nymph or a siren that had just appeared out of the depths of the ocean to draw him to his doom.

  And maybe tonight, I would.

  “I watched you guys the whole time. You wouldn’t let me play because Ash said that mom was going to yell at me if I got any of my clothes dirty.”

  His jaw ticked as I let out a small laugh—a laugh that was cut short when he spoke again, “So, you went inside, put on your best Sunday dress and then came back out, picked up a huge handful of mud, and to our horror, slathered it all over your front.”

  I bit my lip, taking another few steps closer to him, but it didn’t do anything to stop the smile that spread over my face.

  “Then you had no choice but to let me play. I was already a mess,” I said triumphantly, reliving that moment of success as though it were yesterday. “In fact, I think you were the first one to tackle me and make sure I got exactly what I was asking for.”

  “What kind of girl wants to be covered in mud?” he growled. “We. Need. To. Go.”

  The kind of girl that just wanted to play with you.

  I bristled at his tone, my next move decided in those last words.

  “What kind of boy doesn’t want to go in the ocean?” I returned just before I stepped completely out of the water and launched myself at him.

  “Blake! What the—” His words cut off with an ‘oomph,’ my weight knocking the wind from him as we fell into the sand.

  In most other worlds, he would have been too big, too strong, and too determined to fall under my sloppy attack. But this—tonight—was a rare world. A unique reality where stars walked on Earth and the only thing that made them shine was the electricity in the air between us.

  Wonderland.

  “Why the hell did you do that?” he grunted, coughing to catch his breath.

  I was surprised at the lack of anger in his tone. Maybe because he was in too much pain. Belated guilt washed over me. Those shots weren’t using training wheels when they took my inhibitions for a ride.

  “Payback,” I answered with a breathless grin, tacking on, “And I wanted you to come in…” My heart was now racing again. I couldn’t look away.

  My breasts were small, but even they felt squished in the lack of space between us. I lay sprawled on top of him, one of my hands buried in the sand, the other in his chest. His arms both lay out at his sides and one of his legs rested between my thighs.

  “I said I didn’t want to,” he growled, the vibration I felt all the way down to my core. “And then I said that we needed to go.”

  It was all well-intentioned—the tone of his voice, the way his free hand slid from the sand, tiny clinging particles pressing into the skin of my waist as he gripped my hip to push me up. But good intentions don’t stand a chance against demanding desire. Even as he spoke, his eyes drifted down to my mouth, parted and breathing heavily. His hand stilled, his skin just as hot as my own.

  I didn’t move, taking in every granite-hard and Miami-hot inch of him that lay taut underneath me. Our breaths in sync, I wished he was wearing as little as I was. From the water and my little stunt, my swimsuit had bunched and shifted, revealing far more side-boob and ass than originally advertised. But it was the growing hardness against the top of my left thigh that seared off any last vestige of cold or water from my skin.

  I swallowed a small moan as moisture seeped between my thighs. There was no way my bottoms were going to dry anytime soon.

  It would be so easy to just slip them…

  I bit hard into my lip as my hips unconsciously flexed, rubbing my aching sex against his leg. I gasped—the slight movement causing an avalanche of tension inside of me. Everything was in the extremes
tonight.

  “Blake,” he rasped, his eyelids heavy. “What are you doing?”

  “You should have come in,” I mumbled. “It might have helped alleviate this.” My leg pressed ever so slightly against his arousal and I felt it jerk against his shorts.

  The next thing I knew I was pinned beneath him. I’d have sand in my hair for days after this. His hips slid and landed right between my legs—right where I needed him.

  “Doesn’t work that way. Not for you,” he admitted with a tortured voice.

  My breath tripped and fell out of my lungs like a drunken college girl leaving a frat party would.

  I watched regret for his words war with his desire. And that was his seed, I realized. His desire for me. Always drowned out by that unwavering obligation. His fingers flexed into my side and I felt it coming—the shutdown, the push-back.

  “We need to go, Baby Blake,” he repeated and I wasn’t sure for whose benefit. Even the nickname didn’t have the usual petulance to it—like he tried, but just couldn’t find the feeling to back them up. “Please. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

  “Doesn’t work that way,” I whispered raggedly, “Not tonight.”

  My fingers speared sand through his hair as I pulled my lips up to his—or maybe I pulled his lips down to mine. Either way, it was awkward and clumsy and a little off-center, but eagerness made up for the imperfect execution; I needed to kiss him before he forced me away.

  His body jolted against mine like I’d just tased him. I felt him pull back for a split second, but I held on, darting my tongue out along the seam of his lips.

  I’d always heard that the tongue is the strongest muscle in the body, but tonight, I believed it because the strength needed to get past Zach’s defenses was something I wasn’t sure that I possessed. And with just that one touch, all of those stone-cold defenses began to crumble.

  The growl that erupted from him seemed inhuman, but I didn’t have time to dwell as his mouth claimed mine. Scolding me was typical from his mouth, scolding me with his mouth wasn’t—but that’s what he did.

  Angling his lips, his tongue speared inside searching for mine, seeking to punish it for pushing him over the edge.