by Claire Adams
"No more secrets?" My heart was leaping, but I put on an air of suspicion.
"You can ask me anything and I'll tell you the whole truth," he vowed, pleading with his eyes. "The lawsuit, my time in college, the years I was addicted to speed, how I developed my company. Nothing is off limits."
"Just dinner and talking; nothing more," I stipulated, even though my body was already aroused just being near him.
"Only if you want more."
I thought for a moment, enjoying the way my hesitation was making him squirm. Then, without saying a word, I smiled at him at climbed onto the back of his bike. It felt good to feel my arms wrapped around his strong chest with the wind blowing through my hair as we raced through the city streets. This was where I belonged. This was where I was meant to be.
Best of all, it felt good knowing that with just one call he was there for me in an instant, willing to do anything I asked just to be mine. We were riding into a new and more meaningful future together, and in that moment, my life was perfect. Too bad perfection doesn't last.
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Ethan
"You can't seriously be telling me this asshole has a real fucking case," I shouted angrily.
"I'm saying Judge Farrell ruled that there are sufficient grounds to move forward; so yes, he has a real case."
"This is complete bullshit. This junkie could potentially win half my fucking company that I've worked a lifetime to build, just because we were stoned together one night and he said Speed Motorcycles, and I eventually used that name for entirely different reasons?"
"I'm not the judge. I don't make the final ruling. I'm just your attorney, but if you don't want to risk the worst-case scenario, we could settle out of court. Why don't you just make him offer?"
"Buy him off? That's no different than paying him the blackmail money tried to demand from me."
"How much did he want?"
"A million bucks, but I'm sure he won't take that now. He's got the media in a frenzy. It's going to take double that to shut him and get him to drop the case after all this."
"I could call his attorney and offer two million in cash, see if he'll settle."
"Yeah, that's really easy for you to do with my money."
"I'll proceed however you want me to. If you want to take this thing all way to a jury, we will; but just know that's a gamble, no matter how ludicrous his claim is. I've seen crazier things happen. It's up to you, though.
"No, you're right. Offer the two million. I'll go as high as five, but if he won't settle for that, then we're going all way to court."
"You got it." My attorney shook my hand and left my office. No sooner was he through the door than Gary buzzed me on the intercom.
"Mr. Colson, there's a man here to see you with no appointment. He claims to be an old college friend. Should I call security?"
Shit. "Who is it?"
Gary started to answer, but a new voice cut him off. "You tell that son-of-bitch it's the beer pong champion of the world, and don't you forget it."
I recognized the voice of Victor Bruckheimer and broke into a grin. I opened the door to my office myself and greeted my long-time college friend with a hug.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I slapped him hard on the back and welcomed him inside. I shut the door for privacy and invited him to make himself comfortable on the sofa by the window.
"Well, I thought you'd probably like to know you still have at least one friend from the good ol' days who isn't trying to sue you."
"Fuck, ain't that the truth," I groaned, glad for his support during this stressful time in my life. Sales were down, stocks were plummeting, and Kayla wasn't responding to any of my texts or phone calls. I'd tried calling her again that morning and she'd sent it straight to voicemail, not even bothering to hang up on me this time.
"What do you say we go out tonight, get your mind off this shit-fest you're dealing with?"
"That sounds perfect." I grinned—it really did. Vick always knew just how to cheer me up. Then he his next words hit me like a punch to the gut.
"I'll bring Gwyneth and you can bring Kayla. It'll be a double-date, just like we used to do back in the day."
My face must have turned pale because Vick took one look at me and instantly looked apologetic. "Unless you're still hung up on Gwyneth. I thought you two had worked out your differences and become friends, but if it would be too awkward for you to have your ex talking to your new girlfriend, I totally get that. I guess I should have asked if you had a problem with me dating her."
"No, I'm not still hung up on Gwynn. Things were over between her and me long ago. I'm happy you two are together, honestly."
"All right, good. Meet us at Andresen's. Eight o'clock tonight. Last one there has to buy the first round. We'll talk and laugh and you can show off your dance moves to that hot, model girlfriend of yours."
"You got it." I slapped Vick on the shoulder and we hugged like brothers.
"All right, I gotta go," he said and I watched him leave. Shit. Why hadn't I told him that Kayla and I were no longer dating? How the hell was I supposed to get her to Andresen's by eight, when I couldn't even get her to pick up the phone?
I texted her several times throughout the day, but there was never any response from her. She hated me, and I couldn't blame her. I'd asked her to expose her vulnerabilities to me when we played BDSM games and then refused to answer a single question she had about my past. Now, it was splashed all over the news and half the country knew I used to take speed. Why hadn't I just told her the truth instead of hiding behind my fears? If I had, then I wouldn't have lost her.
I came to the bitter conclusion that I would just have to confess to Vick and Gwyneth that Kayla had dumped me. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but something I was going to have to do. I walked slowly out of my office at the end of the day, no longer looking forward to my dinner with friends. I decided to take my favorite motorcycle as a way to lift my spirits.
As I revved the engine to life, I felt a strange vibration in the seat of my pants. It took me moment to realize it was my cell phone ringing in my back pocket.
I saw at once that it was Kayla, and I nearly dropped the phone with surprise. My fat fingers could hardly press the answer button, they were shaking so hard, but I was surprised to hear the sound of a male voice as I brought the phone to my ear. He was threatening to rape her.
Then Kayla's voice could be heard, fighting him off with her quick wit. She needed me. My heart was racing. Tell me where you are, I thought fiercely, and then as if in answer to my prayer, she said to her attacker "He knows I'm here at the R.E.B. Corporate Studio on Ninth Street..."
That's all I needed to know. It was a short ride from my corporate headquarters and even shorter if I ignored all speed limits and took the back alley reserved for delivery trucks.
"I'm coming for you, Kayla," I whispered into the phone, not sure if she could hear me or not. My pulse was racing even faster than my tires as I squealed to a stop in front of the R.E.B. building just moments later.
I saw Jay Wendt open the door, looking nervous as hell. I wanted to beat his face in. Then I saw Kayla appear, looking wary but confident, and my heart soared. Thank God she was okay.
"Is everything all right?" I asked, looking hard at Jay. I wanted that son-of-bitch to know I was ready to kick his ass for threatening her.
"Yeah, everything is fine." Kayla held her hand up to me, making it clear she didn't want me to hurt him. Too bad; it would have been fun. Jay was lucky Kayla was such a good-hearted person or I'd have made sure he walked with a limp for the rest of his life.
Jay mumbled an apology to Kayla and then took off. It took all my restraint not to follow him and beat the shit out of him, but I had more pressing matters to deal with. Looking longingly at Kayla, I asked her softly, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. You didn't need to come here. I'll take a cab home," she said, rebuffing me.
"Get on, I'll take you." I indicated the back of my bike,
but she just shook her head at me.
"No, thanks." Jesus, she could be stubborn. I spun around on my bike, spitting gravel and dust in a cloud in the air, and cut off her retreat. I'd had enough of her bullshit. She'd refused all the roses and gifts of jewelry I'd sent her, refused all my calls, and left all my texts unanswered, but when the shit was coming down, I was the one she called on for help. I was the one she knew she could turn to in a moment of crisis. She needed me as much as I needed her.
It was time to make things right between us, and knew there was only one way to do that. I just had to be honest and open my heart to her. "I've really missed you. Please, have dinner with me tonight. I'll tell you everything you want to know."
"No more secrets?" Her eyes were large with hope and longing.
"You can ask me anything and I'll tell you the whole truth. The lawsuit, my time in college, the years I was addicted to speed, how I developed my company. Nothing is off limits," I swore, and I meant it.
"Just dinner and talking—nothing more?" she asked me. Of course, I wanted more, but I realized now that even if we never had sex again, I loved being with Kayla. I missed her smile, the sound of her laugh, and the way I felt when she leaned her head on my shoulder. I missed hearing about her day, listening to her stories about her childhood, and answering her questions about mine. If she needed to put sex aside in order to gain the intimacy with she needed to freely give her body to me, then I was more than willing.
Taking her hand in mine, I said softly, "Only if you want more."
She thought about if for an eternity before her perfect, rosy lips turned up into that radiant smile I loved so much. She climbed onto the back of my bike and wrapped her hands around me. No words needed to be said. I just put the bike into gear and turned up the gas.
Kayla was mine again, and I was going to make this a magical evening that she would never forget—but first, we had a pit stop to make.
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Kayla
"What are we doing here?" I asked, as Ethan parked his bike in front of Andresen's. It was the hottest new restaurant in town, guaranteed to be bustling with socialites seeking wealthy boyfriends and movie stars seeking the spotlight. It wasn't the kind of dinner date I had in mind and the least accommodating place to try and have an intimate conversation.
"We just need to pop in for a few minutes I promised my old friend Vick that we would have a drink."
"You also promised me we would finally get to talk," I reminded him.
"I know, and we will. We'll just be in and out. I'm afraid if I don't show, Vick will get worried and check in on me. I'd rather get this out of the way and be able to be alone together without interruption."
"Okay," I acquiesced, even though my instincts told me this was a mistake.
The maître d’ escorted us to our table, where I recognized Ethan's college buddy Vick, looking even more handsome than the last time in a black blazer and blue silk shirt. Next to him was the unmistakable Gwyneth Manzranni, looking incredible in a little black dress that hugged her voluptuous body like it had been poured onto her bare flesh, accented by a diamond, collar necklace and matching earrings. I suddenly felt dowdy and completely underdressed in the simple, pink summer dress I'd slipped into after work. My blonde hair had been wet when I finished showering after the shoot and I'd pulled it back into a simple braid, giving me a wholesome look that was far outshined by her glamour.
"Welcome. We're so glad you two could make it." Gwyneth hugged me like we were best friends. I nearly choked to death on her excessive perfume. We settled into our seats in the cramped booth and Vick ordered us all a round of Vodka tonics.
"To old friends and to new," he toasted, giving me a little wink to ease my discomfort.
We all drank down the burning liquid, then Ethan started to stand, and said, "Thanks so much for the drink, but I forgot Kayla and I had plans for dinner tonight, so we must be going."
"Whatever plans you have, just change them. Have your dinner here," Vick insisted boisterously as the waiter brought another round of drinks.
"I can't. I promised Kayla we could go someplace quiet to talk."
"To talk? Is that what you two sex addicts are calling it these days?" Gwyneth teased, making me blush.
"No, to actually talk," Ethan defended my honor. "This whole thing with Charles Dorsey has dredged up a lot of questions about my past, and I promised Kayla that tonight I would answer any and all questions she had about my days right after college when I was first starting the business and still hanging out with you morons."
Gwyneth smirked knowingly and said, "Oh, so you want to talk about a different kind of addiction all together. Ethan's only been hooked on two things: first speed, and then sex."
"You mean the adrenaline rush he gets from riding fast?" I asked naively, hoping I had just misunderstood her innuendo.
"No, I mean uppers, cocaine, crystal meth. You name it, he took it. It started as a way to study all night for his finals, but before long, he was completely addicted. When he got out of college, he kept taking them at work, and when he quit Krueger and branched out on his own, he took even more."
Vick nodded in agreement, and said, "He was convinced working non-stop without sleep was the only way to get his company going, and taking speed was the way to make it happen. We could see how much it was changing him and tried to intervene, but he was addicted and found a way no matter what you did."
"Don't you think this is my story to tell?" Ethan glared at two friends, but they refused to let the subject drop.
Gwyneth continued, "He'd do anything to get more speed: lie, steal, betray his closest friends. I hated watching what it was doing to him, so I gave him an ultimatum. Check into Garden Hope Center or it was over between us."
"His mistake was my gain." Vick kissed her passionately, and she giggled like a schoolgirl. I could see Ethan was growing really uncomfortable. I couldn't help but wonder if he was jealous of the two of them. Did he still have feelings for his ex-girlfriend?
"Why can't everyone just leave the past where it fucking belongs?" he shouted out angrily, and suddenly, he got up and stormed away from the table.
While Vick and Gwyneth gaped in surprise, I followed after him.
"Ethan, I understand what's wrong," I called after him. His long legs were capable of big strides and I had to practically run to catch up to him. I rounded the corner just in time to see him step into the men's room. Taking a deep breath for courage I followed him in.
"Can't a guy keep anything private?" Ethan glared at me as I stepped into the restroom. Several men gasped, zipped up their flies, and left abruptly, giving us the room to ourselves.
"Sorry, but I think we need to finish talking this out," I explained, refusing to go.
"Haven't you heard enough? I wanted to tell you what happened my way, but those two wouldn't quit blabbing."
"Why? So you could filter the past and just tell me the parts you wanted me to hear?" I wanted to say, “Like how you never stopped loving Gwyneth when she dumped you or how jealous you are that she's with Vick now?” But I kept those thoughts to myself.
“It's my story to tell and I should get to be the one who shares it. I want you to know the whole truth, even as ugly as it was, but I didn't want you to hear it like some gossip story told by two drunks who didn't really experience it.
“They don't know what it was like to be me, to feel the pressures to succeed, and to never have had anyone to count on but myself. I had to work all night long, and taking speed to do it seemed like a reasonable thing to do at the time. Of course I know better now, but back then, I was just a scared kid doing what I thought was right. I'm not a monster, just a fool."
"It must have been hard for you," I sympathized. Then I looked at him carefully, and continued, "Especially when you lost Gwyneth."
"It was at the time, but she means nothing to me now. I thought taking speed was the greatest high there was, and I thought being with Gwynn was the greatest love there was; b
ut now I know just how wrong I was. Speeding on my bike, building my own business, becoming the success I am now are all far greater highs than I ever got from drugs."
He pulled me into his arms, caressed my cheek, and gazed lovingly into my eyes. With a voice that was thick was lust, he said, "And being with you is a million times better than Gwyn had ever been. When I was a young kid, I thought I loved her; but now I'm a man and I know that what I have with you is far richer, far greater, and far more meaningful."
Ethan reached back with one hand and locked the door to the men's room, and before he was even finished, I flung myself at him, wrapping my body around him as we kissed passionately. He hadn't said the words, but in his own way, he had told me he loved me. I knew I loved him, too.
"Fuck me," I said, and my voice was throaty with desire. Ethan fulfilled my needs that night, not just emotionally, but physically. We were one in every way, and I was happy.
Chapter Thirty: Ethan
I never talked about my past. I didn't need to talk about it with the people who had been there at the time because they already knew the hell I'd been through, and I never talked about it with anyone else because it was none of their business. I'd learned from my mistakes and now those mistakes were dead and buried. I wanted to keep them that way, and ignoring them and never bringing them up seemed like the best plan to keep it that way. Until Kayla came along.
I trusted her in ways I never trusted anyone: not even Gwyneth or my father. She was so natural and authentic, I felt safe to be my real self with her. No pretenses, cover-ups, or lies. I had always intended to tell her everything at my own pace, when the time felt right; but then this bullshit lawsuit with Dorsey happened and I had to push my timetable way up.
Fine. I could deal with it, especially if the alternative meant losing Kayla. Only, I wanted to tell her privately in my own words. Then, Vick and Gwyneth had ruin that by running their drunken mouths too much. Shit. Wasn't anything personal anymore? It was more than I could take and I had to get the hell out of there before I lost my temper and did or said something I regretted.
