by S. Ann Cole
Tugging at his collar, as if he was everything hot men were made of, he asked, “So you sayin’ JK is eelite—ileeeter-um, what does that word mean?”
“Oh, Christ,” I mumbled, as everyone else tried and failed to stifle their laughter.
Lion turned his head and glanced out the window, hand hiding his mouth. “We should probably hit the red carpet.”
Jahleel was right, one needed patience with this fellow, and that’s something I didn’t have at the moment. “It means you’re a buffoon, a dunce.”
His face drooped in defeat as he muttered, “Oh,” and I instantly regretted my harsh, insensitive words.
As everyone filed out of the limo, I kept my hand on his as a sign for him to wait. When everyone was out, I took his hand in mine, and he let me. But at the faint sound of his sniffle, my heart plummeted.
“I don’t know who or what you want me to be, Ma,” he said softly, his face looking out the window. “I try so hard to be the best I can be, but you never seem to notice. A fool isn’t supposed to know he’s a fool…but this fool knows. I see it in the way people look at me and hide their laughs. It’s hard. I tried and failed to explain to JK, the one person who understands me, but he says he already knows how I feel. He explains it in a way I couldn’t.”
“What did he say?”
“He says it’s like when you’re out-of-control high and you know you’re high, doing stupid things and making an arse of yourself. And you can see people laughing at you, but you have no control over it, yeah? You try to walk and you fall over. You try to speak and nothing makes sense. Because you’re high, and being high is not like when you’re drunk and can stick your fingers down your throat, hurl, and feel better in five minutes. That high stays with you and screws with your head until you go blank. Except that my kind of high is per—perp—…shite, I can’t pronounce the word he used.” His face fell again.
“Perpetual?”
He turned to me look at me then. “Yes, yes, that’s the word.”
Squeezing his hand, I prayed to God he would forgive me. “I apologize for being mean just now, okay? You’re not illiterate.”
He nodded, looking unconvinced.
“You’re not, Ferbie,” I stressed urgently. “It’s just that, you have a heavy accent, and speaking like the hot pack just doesn’t fit. Don’t try to be like anyone else, just be yourself.”
“And you’ll still love me?” His voice sounded hopeful, and I wanted to kick myself a thousand times for making him think I didn’t.
“I’ll always love you, Ferbie.”
His good ole Ferbie grin returned and he hugged me hard. “I love you, too, Ma.”
Relieved, I pulled from the hug and grinned back at him, “Now, let’s go party like rock stars, as the Americans say it.”
Nth’s roof was on fire. Wickedly designed in futuristic aesthetics, the facility was a semi-circular three-level club, with no dance floor, but with booths big enough to fit at least twenty people each, circled all the way around the club, eight party booths per floor.
A huge, round glass bar stood in the middle of the first floor, and that bar had steel posts that supported a replica of the floor bar, which was suspended in the air for the second floor patrons. The second bar had steel posts that acted as a fulcrum for another bar for the third floor patrons. Almost sci-fi like, it resembled one big, round glass and steel tube zooming all the way up to the third floor, with sturdy glass paths leading to the bars. Amazing. It gave off the impression of being ten years into the future. Looking around, admiring, I could tell a lot of work and thought went into building the club.
Though I rarely enjoyed myself at parties, all of us were long past tipsy, as the opening turned out far more fun than we anticipated. Even Lion, who was more of watcher than doer at parties, was doing the ‘bump and grind’ with his girlfriend. Maybe something was in the drinks.
With the brilliant idea of booth partying, other celebrities didn’t feel obliged to walk around flashing fake smiles in people’s faces. It was set up so one could just raise their glass in an “I see ya” hail and continue on partying with their mates. Even so, Tiara had found her flawlessly beautiful arse in my booth and was clinging to me like a leech.
How do you tell someone who idolizes you to bugger off? Oh, right, you can’t.
I hadn’t seen Chad since I arrived, and I assume he was probably avoiding me, seeing that I was ‘fake’ and all.
Amanda got up from where she was sitting on the other side of Tiara—who was sitting between us—and came to sit on my other side, effectively putting me in the middle.
“Bloody hell,” Amanda grumbled, “that twat just won’t shut up about how much of a cheating ‘douche’ her so-called ‘boyfriend’ is. Seems he bonked another one of the G2Ks’. They’re at war over who he wants more. That’s why she’s here and not in their booth. Jesus Christ, my ears hurt with that bloke’s name. I wish someone would just shoot him dead already.”
“And I don’t want to hear about him,” I whispered back. “So get your arse back over there.”
“Nuh uh.”
“Maybe I should tell her that I, too, am trying to get into her boyfriend’s pants then, yeah?”
“Do what you must to get rid of the chatterbox,” Amanda said with a careless shrug. “Don’t care.”
What the true status of Jahleel and Tiara’s relationship was, no one knew. She called him her boyfriend, he acted single. He did whatever he wanted, she bitched about it. Maybe she was as delusional as me? Well, no, because she was actually with him. All I’ve had so far were fantasies.
“Shite,” Amanda all but breathed into my ear.
Following her gaze, my sight landed on Chad, standing at the end of the booth partition, talking in Lion’s ear.
Shite was right.
Chad looked scrumptiously delicious and was a sight to behold, as he put his casual appearance aside for tonight and opted for sleek.
In a well-tailored suit, all black with a white jacket fitted neat and close to boast his slim waist, he was impeccable. Men in suits didn’t usually appeal to me, but when it was done like that, closely fitted to outline every devastating inch of his frame, well, what’s not to admire?
Chad was lean, slender some. He didn’t have hard, prominent, well-developed brawns like Jahleel, but for his body type, lean was correct. The black shirt under his white jacket was unbuttoned far enough to display the dash of hair on his chest as it caressed the white-gold cross pendant nestled there. His hair wasn’t messy this time, but slicked back, sharpening every hard feature of his arrestingly handsome face.
Wow.
Once Lion and Chad finished talking about whatever, Lion moved back to sit with Twana, while Chad unhooked the partition and entered the booth.
Our booth was a riot with both Lion’s team and mine jammed in it, so when I saw Chad stop and frowned, I knew he was trying to figure out the best way to get to who he wanted without disrupting anyone.
Leaning down, he said something to Amanda, who then nodded and leaned over to me. “Brace back a bit. He wants to get to Tiara.”
Why her? Ugh! This poor girl was inadvertently making me hate her more and more.
Begrudgingly, I pressed back into the seat, and Chad stretched across Amanda and me so he could talk to Tiara.
Hearing Jahleel’s name in the whispered exchange, I probably should’ve been eavesdropping, but my head was swimming with Chad’s scent. His cologne wasn’t loud, just subtle enough to blend with his natural masculine scent.
YUM!
While he was still engaged in his conversation with Tiara, I moved forward a little bit to sniff in more of his amazing scent.
“You are such a creep,” Amanda giggled from beside me.
I ignored her, thinking that I wanted this man more than I’d initially thought. Or maybe I was drunk and feeling neglected because I haven’t heard a word from Jahleel in days, yet he could send messages to Tiara. To hell with him!
; Chad moved back from Tiara, and as he was passing by me, I involuntarily gripped his arm, stopping him.
As if he’d been hoping to get in and out without having to acknowledge me, he sighed deeply and audibly as he, in slow motion, turned his face to mine. Our lips were less than an inch apart, our noses practically touching, our eyes staring into the other’s, grey to black.
He said nothing, neither did I.
It was just him breathing into my mouth, me breathing into his, the noise of the club and the people in it fading into quiescence. When his stare dropped to my lips, I moved in, closing the tiny gap between us, and touched my lips to his.
We remained like that for a moment, lips together, no one making the first move. He was hesitant, maybe he was thinking, had doubts. But I wanted him…I think.
Making the decision for him, I moved my lips against his, coaxing, and he obliged, kissing me back. Not hard, not hungry, just savouring.
Abruptly, he broke the kiss and narrowed his eyes in thought. Bringing his lips around to my ear, he whispered, “Fifteen minutes. My office. Third floor, left turn before the bar path. “
Then he drew back and left without a backward glance.
The silence receded and the noise of the club came back full volume. I became aware of more around me than just Chad’s scent, lips and mesmerizing dark eyes. I also could feel all eyes on me.
All eyes except Lion’s. His attention was directed out to the club, a sign that I had an angry manager to deal with later.
“What in the world was that?” Tiara asked, mouth agape.
“You’ve never seen two human beings kiss before?”
“But-But,” she stuttered. “I didn’t know you two were dating!”
“We’re not dating. There’s a huge difference between dating and fucking, you know?” Hell, yeah, that was a jab at her.
“So you’re fucking him?” she queried excitedly.
The hell was she excited about? I’m in love with your boyfriend, sweetheart.
“No, I’m not.” I waved her off. “By the way, what was that about just now?”
Tiara slumped back in the seat, looking apprehensive. “JK’s pissed as shit at me.”
Now this sounds juicy! “Aww, what happened, babe?”
She wrung her hands in her lap like a teenager in trouble. “I-I kind of named him as my beau in a magazine interview when asked about my relationship status.”
“So what? Isn’t he your beau?”
“The truth?” She sighed dejectedly. “No. He was explicit about what he couldn’t offer and what he could—which is nothing but casual sex. Great casual sex, I might add. But it isn’t enough and I want more because he’s so amazing and I was tired of getting just bits and pieces of him. So I figured, well, maybe if I started doing all the things he was afraid of doing, like commit, maybe he’d go along with it, you know. But all that has been counterproductive so far.” Letting out another long sigh, she asked, “How do you make yourself stop loving an unapologetic asshole?”
Here was my opportunity to throw her off him. “What kind of car does he drive?”
“Jeep,” she answered. “One with no roof or doors. He also rides a bike.”
“Hmm,” I considered in an ominous tone, pretending to be in deep thought. “That’s not good, hun.”
“What do you mean?”
“See, you can tell a lot about a man by the clothes he wears and his mode of transportation,” I rambled, making crap up. “I’ve seen how JK dresses. He doesn’t care. Now you say he drives an open Jeep and rides a bike, right?”
“Right.”
“What do you get from that, hmm? A vehicle with no doors or roof, a bike with even less.”
Take the bait. Take the bait.
Tiara twisted her lips thoughtfully, then her eyes widened, “He doesn’t like to be confined or caged in. He needs room to breathe. He needs multiple exits so he can get out quick. Which translates to no-commitment.”
Look at that. The wench actually drafted something sensible from the load of bullocks I dumped at her feet. “Exactly.”
“So, you think I’m just wasting my time?”
Patting her thigh, I told her, “If you want my honest opinion: yes. You can do so much better.”
Amanda was tugging on my other arm, so I turned to her, “What, woman?”
“What did he say?” she demanded with eager eyes.
“He wants me to meet him in his office in fifteen minutes.”
“To shag?”
I shrugged. “I dunno.”
“Would you shag him?”
“Well…he smells bloody awesome.”
“Looks awesome, too.” She grinned in agreement. “So?”
“So, what?” I played dumb.
“Are you going?!” she snapped, seeing through my game.
“I dunno!”
Except, I did know.
Fifteen minutes later, I turned the knob on Chad’s office door. He was waiting for me, perched at the edge of his desk in the centre of his disorganized office. Opened boxes of knickknacks were piled about. Seemed he hadn’t gotten around to sorting out this part of the club yet.
Closing the door, I leaned back against it, hands still grasping the knob.
The heat and intensity Chad exuded was all-encompassing in his stance with his arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankles, eyes hard on me.
Keeping a distance, I waited for him to speak first.
“I don’t do public displays,” he broke the intense silence, an edge to his tone.
“Me neither. Sorry about that,” I apologized, not sorry in the least. “You mad?”
“Yes.” His shoulders jerked up in a shrug. “But I’ll get over it.” Then he added so quietly I almost didn’t hear him, “You tasted so good…”
“You too.” Lame, much? Grow a pair, Kia!
“Why’d you do it?”
“Because you smell amazing?”
“I take daily showers,” he deadpanned. “Twice a day, actually.”
“You’re being a jerk.”
Sighing, Chad uncrossed his hands and pressed them palms-down on his wooden desk. “Saskia, I’m feeling you, on a serious level. And I think I’ve been pretty damn obvious about it too. But you must know, JK’s my brother. I love him, respect him, honour him. So I would never do anything to fuck him over.”
Releasing the door handle, I flung a frustrated hand up in the air. “The bloody hell does JK have to do with anything?”
“Everything,” he acknowledged, and there was this edge to his voice again. “Because you want him, and you want me. That won’t work, Saskia.”
“Right. Except, he doesn’t want me, so what’s the point of this conversation?”
I was far beyond tired of hearing Jahleel’s name now, to be honest. Who would’ve thought, right? But Jahleel didn’t want me and there was nothing I could do to change that.
Chad smelled amazing, looked amazing, and I wanted to shag him. Not a relationship, no. Just a fuck. That’s all. So, how the hell did Jahleel fit into this again?
“Listen,” Chad pushed off of his desk and smoothed out his already straightened jacket. “I’m not touching you again unless you promise me you won’t go chasing after JK. If you’re mine, you’re mine and you’re marked. I don’t share my women. Not even if it’s casual.”
As he made his declaration, he strode over to me, and now he hovered over me—tall, hot and downright beautiful.
I curled my fingers into girl fists and kept them stiff at my sides to restrain myself from grabbing his face and bringing his lips down to mine. I stopped myself because I wasn’t sure if I could do what he required.
See, there were times when I hated Jahleel and wanted nothing to do with him or even hearing about him. Then, there were times when I couldn’t function at all until I found myself asking someone, anyone, about him.
At the moment, yes, I hated him. But I knew without a doubt in a day or two, I would be singing a diff
erent song.
Even though he swore not to touch me again, Chad raised his right hand to my face and gently traced his forefinger around my nostrils that were no doubt flaring. “So?” he prompted.
“Huh?” I stalled, my breath picking up at his touch.
“Tell me, Saskia. Please.” The timbre of his voice deepened as he husked out, “I’m dying to taste you again.”
My chest rose as I inhaled to speak but before I could, my cellphone pinged. Of course, I didn’t have to check it right now, but it was an excuse to not answer Chad right away.
With a frustrated sigh, he took a step back when I retrieved my cellphone from my pocket. There was a text message from none other than Jahleel on the screen.
It’s not working…
“Just go,” Chad ordered in a quiet, though strained voice.
Did it make sense refusing to leave when I knew I couldn’t give him what he exacted? No. So I turned to leave his office, my mind immediately off him and his amazing scent, and instantly fixated on Jahleel.
After an entire week, he messaged me. Just like that, it felt as if it had been only last night since I’d fallen asleep to the rapid staccatos of his heart. Nothing mattered anymore but him, because he messaged me. He was letting me know the platonic Saskia fix he made the visit for last Tuesday wasn’t working.
I was still on his mind.
Meandering down the walkway with a silly grin, I tapped out a text.
Sorry 4 being such a pain in the head.
__Ping__
Like a bad migraine that no amount of aspirin can drive away.
Sucks.
——
Gud thoughts or bad?
__Ping__
Always good ;)
——
How so? We created no memories.
__Ping__
That’s what daydreams & fantasies r 4.
Wanna call 2 hear ur voice but am in a club.
——
Me 2.
Wish u were here.
__Ping__
Wish I was there.
——
I want u, JK.
More than what u r giving.
__Ping__
U need 2 get outta my head.
