Whiskey and Honey: Can a forbidden fling be real love? (The Empire Records Series Book 1)

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Whiskey and Honey: Can a forbidden fling be real love? (The Empire Records Series Book 1) Page 2

by Heather Lauren


  “I know, Wonder Woman; I can’t wait to see you,” Charlie says in a low, sad tone.

  “Me too, boo. I’ll call you when we land. I heard we are flying out of here at four p.m. but have no idea of an arrival time,” I say, looking at Marcus.

  “Around nine, but tell her my car is at the airport, so we don’t need a ride.”

  “I heard him, Lyla. No worries. I’ll bring breakfast by his place tomorrow. I love you both; please be safe.”

  “Okay. Love you. Bye,” I reply

  “Bye”

  As her call ends my phone’s screen goes back to home and shows I’ve missed exactly seventy-eight calls and over a hundred text messages. Time to get a new phone number, I think.

  “Eat up. We got shit to do, kid,” Marcus says, then stuffs his face with a bacon. A newspaper sits on the edge of the cart, and I grab it, mindlessly shoving my own breakfast in my mouth. It feels like days of my life have disappeared seeing the date. I left for work at ten forty-five a.m. Wednesday morning. That was three days ago, and now everything is different. I drop my fork to the table as soon as I see my own photo on the bottom of the front page.

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now,” I whisper to myself, but Marcus looks over with an arched brow and ketchup on his cheek. I laugh a little despite my rising worry over the Chicago Post. He grabs it from my hands before I can start to read the article.

  “You really don’t need to be reading that shit. Let’s talk about something totally different. Did you master that sauce you were perfecting?”

  “The caviar sauces. Yeah, I did. It was a hit. Not that it matters now,” I say with a wink. “I appreciate everything you’re trying to do, Marcus, really, but I don’t even know how to do small talk right now. I loved cooking but if that paper says anything at all about what’s going on right now, I’m ruined from ever being a high-profile chef again; hell, I may never be hired as a chef again. In any sense,” I say out loud, just now realizing how truly fucked I am.

  “I know but reading the hate won’t help either. You are an amazing chef. The best in the entire world, so I know you’ll get back the reputation that’s hurting right now and be better than ever. We just have to wait it out and start over.”

  I roll my eyes at his pep talk not ready to consider ever having that life back.

  “So how is Harmony doing?” I ask changing the subject.

  “Great. Little genius in her own right. Excelling in everything she sets her mind too but that’s no surprise with a mom like Grace.”

  “That’s true there’s no way she got any smarts from your dumb ass.”

  His face is comical as he looks at me in disbelief.

  “Okay, joking aside, I’m glad I could be here to bust you out of jail and bring you home. It’s not the same without you, and I know Charlie would agree. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling, but I know you’re stubborn as shit and you’ll get your game back. Now finish your damn burger so I can take you shopping ’cause until further notice, your ass ain't got no clothes. Graves said when he can, he’ll help arrange for some of your things to be shipped.”

  “Some of my things. Except anything of value. Yeah, he told me that too.” I say softly, looking at the ground so he can’t see how utterly embarrassed I am. “I’ll just jump in the shower and then follow your lead in all this. I’m so grateful, Marcus. This is super hard for me to accept, but I’m really lucky to have you.”

  “Hey, don’t make this mushy. You loaned me a substantial amount of money just last year. In which you have not allowed me to start paying back yet, so I see this is the perfect time to start.”

  I don’t look at him. The money I gave him was not an investment or a loan, and it doesn’t make this feel any better.

  “Come on, babe, it’ll be fun. You can torture me with all the girly shit you want.”

  I nod, then walk into his open arms for a hug and head for the shower.

  The hot water pelts my skin and I love it. It’s so hot it hurts but at least it’s a pain I can control. My emotions have been mostly anger. It’s hard to see Marcus and not feel like a failure. He had to come save me like some poor little helpless girl that I have fought my entire life not to be. I thought I had it all. Top of my food game, celebrities and socialites eating out of the palm of my hand…not literally but still awesome.

  Now I’m starting all over from scratch. Find a new passion. Ha, what a joke. I’ll now be settling for any job that will hire me and live out the rest of my lonely days with lots of cats. Fuck, I hate cats. Come to think of it, I’ll actually be less lonely with Marcus and Charlie around. As devastated as I am at the moment, I’m kind of excited to go back to Cali. Get a tan, maybe get a new hobby. Get laid. Bahahahaha the thought makes me laugh because I’ve never been the kind of girl to just go hook up with a stranger. The one time I let it happen was a low point in my life when I tried to say goodbye to my mom, and she wouldn’t meet me. I had felt lonely but hated every minute of being with the guy. It’s been longer than I would ever admit since I’ve action been with anyone, but I’ve been nonstop busy for the last six years, and the one date I did manage to go out on, the douchebag got so drunk he threw up all over my lap as he tried to lift my skirt in the back of the taxi he insisted we share so he could safely see me home. So yeah, not a fan of dating, but I really do not want to end up a hateful, lonely old hag who doesn’t even like cats.

  As we make our way to our seats on American Airlines, I glance out the window of my first-class seat and wait for Marcus to join me. Outside its almost pitch black, just a few red, blue and gold lights scattered across the hill and twinkling on the tarmac. Since we’re catching another red eye, we are both exhausted and not looking forward to the drive from Los Angeles to San Diego.

  “I’ll check in with Cole again when we’re almost home. Don’t worry he won’t bother you. He’s a great guy, we’ve become close over this last year, you’ll like him. His office is at our place but since he’s in real estate he’s always out on a job site. I’ll be in the studio all day every day and home late but feel free to come see us anytime. Charlie lives there in a small one bedroom which I would offer to you too if we weren’t currently still building more around hers.”

  “No worries. I’m grateful for everything Marcus.”

  But as simple as my answer is my mind drifts to Cole. A stranger I’ll have to live with. I know Marcus says he’s cool so I try to focus on that and not think of all the strange men my mother used to bring home. I’m a quiet person, always have been. I have very few friends, but I keep them close in a inner circle and have no plans of letting in anyone else.

  3

  Cole

  “Yeah, man, I hear ya,” I say to Marcus as he rattles off about their crazy flight. “I’m up. Yeah, I got everything you asked for and a few extra things just in case.”

  “Thanks, man. We’ll be home in twenty. I can’t fucking wait to sleep. I think I could sleep for a solid twenty-four hours the way I feel right now.”

  I hear a soft voice in the background but don’t understand what she says.

  “Alright, I’ll let you go. See you both soon. Looking forward to meeting Lyla,” I say, trying to sound as nice as possible because, in fact, I am not looking forward to meeting my new female roommate. Not a fan of the idea of sharing my space with a woman again. Not my bathroom, where she is sure to bitch about how dirty I leave the sink or don’t put down the toilet seat or how I leave my towel on the floor. I don’t even want to think about the kitchen and the rest of the house. It’s clean now, but I can almost hear the nagging and complaining.

  To say I’m nervous is an understatement, but I’m hoping to start out on the right foot at least. For the sake of Marcus anyway. I don’t know this chick and would be fine leaving it that way, but she needs help, so I’ll play nice. For now. It’s nine thirty when I hear the garage door open. I run my hands nervously down my beard and push back from my home office desk and close my laptop.

 
The front door opens, and I hear them laughing. Walking down the stairs, I freeze dead in my tracks. She’s fucking gorgeous. Tall and tan with long, straight black hair. She’s wearing a tight navy skirt that hits just below her knees and a white shirt that shows off her big perky tits. Damn it.

  “Hi. You must be Cole,” Lyla says, walking farther into the apartment and extending her right hand. I take it without realizing what I’m even doing. My body just wants to touch her.

  “That’s me. It’s nice to meet you, Lyla.”

  Her hand slips into mine, and it’s like a current rips from her fingers to mine. It flows straight to my cock; I kid you not. I can’t help but stare, but she can’t look away either. In our magnetic staring contest I notice that her eyes are green and have specks of gold, and they are boring into mine like I might be the best thing she’s ever looked at. It feels good. Hell, it feels fucking fantastic.

  “Knock that shit off right now. Both of you. Stop eye fucking. There will be no fucking of any kind between you two, ya hear me?” Marcus says as he closes the front door and locks it. I drop her hand reluctantly and the trance we were in is broken.

  “Listen to your boy. It’s for the best. No one wants a ride on this hot mess express,” she says with a sarcastic laugh, but I notice her smile doesn’t reach her eyes this time. I watch her as she starts to look around the room taking in the bachelor pad. I’m still speechless. I just watch as she takes in the open kitchen with black carboards and simple living room furnished in mostly black leather furniture with a matching coffee table. The house is all old brick inside and out and I left the old brick exposed when I renovated the place. As I stare at her I can’t help but wonder what she thinks of it. It was remodeled from a shoe factory originally built in the 1940s. The ceilings are twelve feet which is a plus for me, at over six feet tall, but the room itself is pretty small.

  “Cole set up a bedroom for you upstairs, I think,” Marcus tells her.

  “Yeah, I did,” I say with far too much enthusiasm. “The last one to the left when you head up the stairs, which you can find straight down that hall.” I point to the dark hallway behind me.

  “Cool, thank you. I’m going to go to bed for the rest of my life. It was nice to meet you, though, Cole,” she says with a wink and walks around me and down the hall.

  “Stop it,” Marcus whispers beside me. I’m still unable to unglue my eyes from her amazing ass as she fades into the dark hallway. The staircase light comes on, and she climbs them, and I finally let out a huge breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

  “That can’t happen. You are the last thing she needs right now. Please promise me you won’t.” He says thinking I didn’t hear him the first time.

  “Marcus, buddy, pal, brother, you did not tell me you were best friends with the sexiest woman ever known to man. You held out on me. I feel like it’s my job as her roommate to show her a good time. Make her forget all about her troubles…and her name,” I say with a tilt to my head and a cocky smirk on my face. Marcus is not smiling. My smile drops and my eyebrows shoot to the ceiling. “What?” I say defensively.

  “Keep your fucking hands off her, Cole, or so help me I will beat your ass into the ground.”

  “What the hell, Marcus? Since when?” I ask, shocked that he would have a real problem with me on this matter.

  “Since it’s Lyla.” He glares at me, not even a friendly smile on his dark face. “I mean it, Cole. She just had her world flipped, and the last thing she needs is a guy like you trying to get in her pants. Just leave her alone, man. She’s my sister in any real way that matters, and I’m asking you man to man not to touch her.” He walks over and sits on the sofa and rubs his hands down his face as he exhales.

  “I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but I’m so stressed right now and to have this happen to her just kills me. She doesn’t deserve this. She’ll act like nothing’s wrong, like she’s got it all under control and nothing affects her, but it does, and I don’t know how to help her this time.” Marcus’ worried face sends guilt straight to my gut. I need to chill out, even if it’s the last thing my body wants to do.

  “I want to be offended, but this clearly isn’t the time. I’m sorry, man. I’ll behave and I’ll help with anything I can.”

  “Thank you. It’s not like you stood a chance anyway,” he says as a slow smile creeps across his face.

  “Oh, very fucking funny. I don’t know where you were a minute ago, but your girl was drooling all over me, but I understand, you obviously got friend-zoned and you’re feeling a little jealous now that she’s seen a real man. I bet that stings.” I say with a little wink, relieved when he laughs.

  “Night.” I say and walk back down the hall and upstairs to my room. After the door closed, I take a deep breath and sigh. I was fully prepared to hate this chick. It’s a lot harder knowing she’s a raven-haired goddess and I can’t fuck her. I can’t even touch her and that’s all my body wants to do. I know Marcus is right. It’s not like I would date her. Or even wine and dine her. I would happily fuck her for hours, but then I would be done and shit around here would be awkward. I better not complicate things for her or make shit weird around the house for everyone. Especially since I work from home more often than not. I’ll just leave her alone. Help where I can and just keep to myself. Easy enough. A damn shame but I’m a disciplined man; I can keep it in my pants. As I close my eyes, my mind wanders, and I remember the way she looked me up and down like I was dinner. Fuck, I’m in trouble.

  4

  Lyla

  So, this is it. My new room, my new city—well, old city—my new life starts today. Sitting up in bed and looking around, I feel less optimistic the more my eyes wander. The room has nothing on the walls, no suitcase by the door, no furniture other than the incredibly comfortable California king bed which was heaven for the past twelve hours I’ve been in it. I know I need to get up and do something. I’m not sure what, but when I told Cole I was going to bed for the rest of my life, I didn’t really mean it. It’s a great idea, but I can’t actually do that, as easy as that would be.

  Cole. My mind rushes to remember his face. His dark-brown eyes and long sandy-brown hair. He looks like all the clique surfers here except he is bigger, broader, and was wearing plaid, which is so unlike anyone here in San Diego. I can’t help the stupid smile I know is on my face as I think about the sexy way he watched me walk in. He stayed a good ten feet away with wide eyes and a boyish grin.

  There was an unmistakable spark when his huge hand engulfed mine in the warmest way. I wonder if he felt it too. Holy shit, my panties are dampening just thinking about him.

  Nope, not going to happen. Not only do I not date, but hooking up with my new roommate is definitely a bad idea. Marcus said so himself. He also told me Cole is more of a player and doesn’t do girlfriends. This was to let me know I wouldn’t have to deal with any “dumb bitches in my new kitchen” or so Marcus explained. I guess he didn’t think I would be interested in Cole myself ’cause the dad voice didn’t come out until Cole was shaking my hand and looking at me like he wanted to eat me. Mmmmm. No one has ever looked at me like that. I wonder what it would be like to be devoured by a man like Cole. So tall and beefy and apparently experienced. A man like that might break me.

  A soft knock on the door jars me out of my fantasy. With burning red cheeks, I’m so thankful whoever it is can’t see me.

  “Yeah?”

  “Hey, Lyla, it’s Cole. I just wanted to let you know I have to run across town for work, and Marcus left for the studio early this morning. I left my cell number and an extra key on the table by the front door. If you need anything at all, just text me.”

  I jump out of bed and rush for the door. “Um, okay, thank you. You don’t have to do anything for me or report your whereabouts to me either, you know?” I say with a raised brow as the door creaks open so I can see his amazing dark eyes. He’s even sexier in the dark hallway. He has his hands tucked into dark jeans, and he’s wearing a
nother plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up just to his elbow, a shy grin on his face I can barely see.

  “I also have clothes on, so you don’t have to stare at the ground.”

  I laugh, and so does he.

  “Yeah, of course. I’m just trying to be helpful,” he says with a shrug, looking up at me now. Our eyes meet and lock, just like last night. “I know you don’t know me, Lyla, but if you need me to pick anything up for you or something, I’m happy to help out. It sucks that all that happened to you. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not the guy that’s going to say how it’s all going to be okay and offers you his shoulder to cry on ’cause that’s not me, but if you want Danny’s Burritos for dinner or ice cream from Sally’s or some shit, I can do that.” He shrugs again.

  “Okay, cool. For the record, I don’t cry so don’t sweat it. That’s not me. That shit’s for pansies.” I shrug, giving him back his same words. He’s still staring, and I know I can’t stop, but I don’t know what else to say. I lick my bottom lip, and his eyes follow the movement. This makes me laugh. His eyes quickly meet mine again, and he starts to take a step backwards.

  “So, number’s downstairs. I’ll see ya around.” He says it like he can’t get away fast enough.

  “See ya,” I practically yell down the stairs after him. Damn, I wonder how bad my bedhead is right now. Or my morning breath. Oh well, I shrug it off. It’s for the best, I remind myself. If I can’t eat the carrot, I really should try to stop thinking about it. Even though I bet he tastes like maple syrup. I laugh and roll my eyes at myself. Walking back to my bed, I grab my phone from the charger and see it’s almost noon. I swipe to unlock it and find Charlie's name and type out a text.

  Lyla: “Hey, boo, where are you?”

  Charlie: “Why, work, of course. Where are you?”

 

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