by Ashlee Price
“We’re not going for a dip, are we?” I ask him. “Because I don’t have a change of clothes.”
“Maybe some other time,” he says.
We go around the kidney-shaped pool towards the tree at the other end of it. As I look up, I realize there’s a structure perched on the tree.
“A treehouse?”
“You bet.”
Kaleb leads me up the stairs winding around the tree and opens the door with a key that he takes out of his pocket.
“DirQ keeps this locked because a few months ago, some lousy drunk jumped off the balcony in the middle of a party and got hurt.”
He opens the door and turns on the lights.
I gasp. The place is a perfect combination of glass and wood, of elegance and comfort. Two red beanbags sit in the middle of the room atop sheepskin rugs facing the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony. In between them is a fire pit and in a corner, a canopied reading nook. A book shelf is built into one wall, with some sections occupied by brightly colored accent pillows and stylish candle holders instead of books.
I head out to the balcony and gaze at the pool below.
“Someone jumped?”
“Yup,” Kaleb answers, staying behind me. “And she landed in the water but she still got hurt.”
I glance at him. “She?”
“What? Women can’t be lousy drunks?”
I don’t answer and he doesn’t say more. I turn around, feeling confused when I don’t see him.
“Kaleb?”
He appears a moment later with a tub of ice cream and two spoons. “As promised.”
My eyes grow wide as I walk towards him. “You raided DirQ’s ref?”
“Hey, he does it to mine all the time.”
I sit on one of the bean bags and he hands me the tub and a spoon. “It isn’t Chunky Monkey, though. Just vanilla.”
“Vanilla’s fine,” I tell him.
He sits down, then stands up again. “Oh, wait. We need drinks.”
He disappears again, and when he reappears he has a bottle of red wine and two glasses.
“Drinks.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Red wine and vanilla ice cream?”
“Why not?” He sits on the other beanbag chair. “Who says dark stuff and light stuff can’t go together?”
I look at him, and the suggestive gleam in his eyes takes my breath away.
“Not me,” I answer without thinking.
“Good.”
He opens the bottle of wine and pours me a glass.
“I hope you’re not a lousy drunk,” he says as he hands it to me.
I take the glass and give him a playful grin. “I guess we’ll find out.”
Chapter Twelve
Kaleb
Dani’s drunk.
Across the fire pit, I can see her lying in the beanbag chair—yes, lying, not sitting. I can see the red tint on her cheeks that isn’t makeup. I can see how heavy her eyelids are, her eyes barely open. I can hear the slur in her voice as she speaks.
“Do you think corn flakes and licorice go well together?” she asks. “Or white chocolate and caviar? Or champagne and peanut butter?”
I chuckle.
At least she’s not a lousy drunk. More of a crazy, fun drunk.
I shrug. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Hmm.” She scratches her chin. “I wonder what they’d taste like.”
Now that the red wine and vanilla ice cream are both gone, the combination seemingly a hit, Dani’s thinking about other dark and light stuff that go together.
As for me, I can think of one right now—her body beneath mine.
Now that’s a perfect combination.
Just the thoughts of her pale breast trapped in my hand, of her quivering lips wrapped around my cock, of my cock disappearing inside her, are enough to send a jolt of heat down my spine and straight to my crotch where something strains against its cotton prison.
Fuck. If only I didn’t promise to behave.
I did, though, so I try to distract myself with other thoughts, like that cockroach-infested apartment in that last movie that we shot in Florida.
“Can I ask you a question?” Dani asks.
I lie back on the chair and place my hands behind my head. “Haven’t you been asking me questions?”
“Those books you’ve read, they all have meaningful stories, don’t they? Powerful stories, even?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you want to star in movies that have stories like those? I mean, they don’t have to be the movie adaptations of those exact books, but more serious movies, you know.”
I know exactly what she means.
“I’m sure you can do it. You know my favorite parts from the movies you’ve made? Not the parts where you’re kicking ass or trying to outrun the bad guy. My favorites are the parts where you’re not so tough or so hot, when you’re just human, you know.”
I sit up in surprise. No one’s ever said that to me before.
She turns her head towards me. “In those scenes, I can almost see the real you.”
As her half lidded brown eyes gaze into mine, a lump forms in my throat.
Strange. I’m pretty sure she can’t see straight right now, and yet it seems as if she can see right through me.
“Why don’t you show everyone the real you?” she adds.
That question puts me right back on guard. No. I can’t let anyone see the real Kaleb Wilson.
I scratch the back of my head. “You’re drunk. And by that I mean you’re not being a fun drunk anymore.”
Dani’s eyes narrow. “I’m a lousy drunk?”
“You’re a drunk who talks too much,” I tell her.
She laughs. “All drunks talk too much.”
“Well, you’re talking so much you’re not making any sense,” I lie.
The truth is she’s making too much sense.
She pouts. “Why? What did I say?”
“See. You don’t even remember what you’re saying anymore.” I stand up. “I should take you home.”
“Your home or mine?”
I pause. For a moment, I’m tempted to say mine, to seize the opportunity she’s presenting me with. I remember my promise, though. Besides, I’ve decided I don’t want her like this. When I take her, I want her to want it without reservation and to enjoy it thoroughly.
Ha. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way for any woman before.
“Yours,” I answer. “Your sister will kill me if I don’t bring you home.”
“No, she won’t. She was practically shoving me out the door, remember?”
“Because she thought it would do you some good.” I stand in front of her. “Why were you upset, anyway? You never told me.”
“Nothing. Just some jerk whose name I don’t remember anymore.”
Something tells me that’s not true, but I decide not to press further. I offer her my hand instead.
“Come on. I’ll take you home.”
“How kind, good sir.” She takes my hand and wobbles to her feet. “How? On your noble steed?”
I wrap an arm around her to keep her from falling. “You know, maybe next time you shouldn’t drink so much.”
Dani frowns. “Now you sound like my sister.”
“Well, I am older than you.”
“Are you?” She turns towards me, her face just an inch from mine.
Too close. I smell the alcohol on her breath and frown.
“Enough talking and more walking.”
She gives a sound between a snort and a chuckle. “Yes, sir.”
~
By the time we get back to Dani’s house, though, she can no longer walk. In fact, she can’t even get up. She nearly falls out the door when I open it. She’s fast asleep, complete with the snoring and drooling.
I guess this is the real her.
It seems I have no choice but to carry her, so I do that. I scoop her up in my arms and carry her up the path to the front door. I’m about t
o ring the bell, but suddenly Dani stirs and opens her eyes.
She looks around. “Where are we?”
“At your house,” I inform her.
She stares at the door. After a few seconds, she finally recognizes it and leaps out of my arms.
She wobbles, so I place a hand on her back. “Careful.”
She places her hand on her shoulder. “Where’s my purse?”
“Here.” I slide the strap of the purse off my own shoulder and hand it to her.
She grabs the purse and after a few seconds of fumbling around, takes her keys out—only to drop them.
I quickly pick them up. “Which one?”
“That one.” She points to the golden one.
I slip it into the lock and the door opens.
She steps inside. “Thanks. And sorry for being a lousy drunk.”
I take the key out and give the whole bunch to her. “Well, if you know you’re being a lousy drunk, you can’t be that drunk.”
Dani grins.
I pat her shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’re not lousy. Just drunk.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Ben and Jerry’s.”
She chuckles.
“Good night,” I bid her with a smile.
“Good night.”
She grabs the doorknob and takes a step backward but stumbles one more time. I step forward without thinking, catching her in my arms.
She looks up at me, our noses almost touching. Those warm brown eyes bore into mine.
The self-control that I’ve been clinging to all evening slips. I bring my face lower, my lips brushing against hers.
She presses them against me and I push back. As I part her lips, our tongues meet and a shiver goes down my spine.
I taste the wine, but I don’t mind. There’s something else about her that’s even more intoxicating. It takes all my will to pull away from her, in fact, but I manage.
I pull away, placing my hands on her arms to steady her.
“Good night, Dani.”
“Good night,” she says.
Finally, the door shuts in my face. I’ve never been more relieved.
Now all I have to do is turn around and walk back to the car and I’ll have kept my promise.
As I do that, a smile forms on my lips. Sure, I slipped up, but at least Dani didn’t slap me this time. She even kissed me back.
Whether or not she’ll remember it tomorrow is another question, one for which only time has the answer. As for me, I know I will.
I run a finger across my lower lip.
In fact, I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.
~
“Have you forgotten who you are and what we’re trying to do about your image?” Tom asks me with a wrinkled forehead and arms crossed over his chest as he stands over my bed.
Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I don’t answer.
I don’t know what time it is, but it’s too early for me to be roused from sleep and it’s definitely too early for me to be getting a lecture from Tom.
“Well?” Tom taps his foot on the floor as he taps his fingers on his arm impatiently.
I pull myself into a sitting position against the headboard. “If this is about me going to DirQ’s party without telling you, you can stop getting your panties in a twist. There wasn’t anyone from the media there.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’ve known DirQ for years,” I tell him as I stretch my arms. “He hates the press.”
“Okay. I believe you, but that doesn’t mean you escaped the press.” Tom starts pacing the room. “Where were you before the party?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Why do you need to know?”
“Answer the question, please.”
“At Dani’s house,” I confess.
He’ll find out sooner or later anyway.
“You mean Danielle Hoffman, the woman I hired to be your yoga instructor?”
“Yes.”
“The same woman you kissed and the same woman you made out with in the library?”
“I did not make out with her in the library,” I correct. “And just to be clear, I did not make out with her at the party either.”
“And what about at her house, hmm?”
“No.” I swing my legs out of bed. “I know you worry about my fascination with women, Tom, but while I admit that I am fascinated with Dani, I can assure you that she isn’t like any of the women I’ve been with.”
Tom falls silent as he scratches his chin.
I stand up. “What’s all this about, Tom?”
“This.” He tosses me his phone.
I look at the screen. On it, there’s a picture of me and Dani kissing on the front steps of her house.
“Shit.” I sit on the edge of the bed.
“I had the same reaction but with more frustration.” Tom sits beside me.
I frown, but shrug my disappointment off. “So what? There have been many pictures of me with women before.”
“Exactly.” Tom taps his fingers on his lap. “Kaleb, do you remember why I hired Dani?”
“To teach me yoga.”
“Yes. To teach you yoga so that you can improve your image and show the world that you are becoming a better man, one who’s more mature and responsible and caring.” He stands up with his hands in his pockets. “Now, tell me, do you think people will still think you have become a better man once they see a picture of you sharing a passionate smooch with your yoga instructor, who, may I remind you, is younger than you are, and was just reported as Reilly Evans’s girlfriend the other day?”
My eyebrows bunch up. “Dani is Reilly Evans’s girlfriend?”
“No. I made a few phone calls and apparently that’s not true, but the media did report it as such.”
“Is she going out with him?”
“She’s his yoga instructor, same as she is yours,” Tom informs me.
“Oh.” I frown as jealousy spikes in my chest.
Somehow, I failed to consider that Dani had other clients. I thought she was exclusively mine.
I slap my forehead.
Of course she’s not. Every yoga instructor has a number of clients.
I wonder how many other clients Dani has and how many of them are male.
“Anyway, let’s go back to the point, shall we?” Tom tells me. “You have just destroyed everything we’ve been working for so far. Tell me, Kaleb, are you really serious about your career, if not your life, or not?”
“I am,” I tell him.
At least, I want to be. Dani has made me realize as much.
“Good to know. So now, all we have to do is fix this… situation.”
I throw him a puzzled look. “I’m sorry?”
“This situation is a problem. Therefore, we must fix it.” Tom starts pacing the room again. “And I think I’ve just found the perfect solution.”
“Which is?”
“That you have a relationship with Dani,” Tom continues. “A serious one.”
“You want me to go out with Dani?”
“I want you and Dani to appear engaged,” Tom explains. “That way, people will think you’re not just playing around this time, that you’re done playing around. After all, you said it yourself. Dani isn’t like any of the women you’ve been with.”
“So you’ll say Dani and I are engaged?”
“Yes. I’ll come up with some story of how you met, how you fell in love with her and how you’re trying to be a better man because of her and for her.”
I touch my chin.
“I’ll say you’re serious about her,” Tom adds. “And that way, they’ll think you’re finally serious about your life and the powers that be in the movie industry might start offering you serious roles.”
“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
“When have I ever been not serious about you?”
Valid point.
“It’s not a bad idea,” I tell him. “But what if they find out it’
s not true?”
“They won’t,” Tom assures me.
“Won’t they find out from Dani?”
“No.” Tom shakes his head. “Because we’ll have Dani play along.”
My eyebrows go up. “We will?”
“That’s the only way this plan will succeed, my boy.”
“And if she says no?”
Tom strokes his chin. “Oh, I’m quite sure she can be persuaded to say yes.”
Chapter Thirteen
Dani
I should have said no, I think as I stare at the beige ceiling of my bedroom with my blanket pulled up all the way to my chin.
I shouldn’t have let Cora persuade me to go out with Kaleb when I was upset.
Because I did, I ended up drinking, and in the end, I only added insult to injury.
Once again, I made a fool of myself and landed on social media, as well as the front page of a few entertainment websites. Why, I was even on TMZ.
Wow. I sure have gotten famous fast.
Or should I say infamous?
Now people will think I’m the yoga instructor who sleeps with her clients or sidelines as an escort service for Hollywood actors.
Cringing in embarrassment, I pull the blanket over my head.
What am I going to do? My reputation is ruined.
No, my whole life is ruined. After all, being a yoga instructor is all I have. What will become of me now?
My phone rings. I toss away the blanket and reach for it, hoping that it’s Cora and that she has the right things to say to make me feel better. After all, she’s probably heard the news by now.
One look at the screen and I frown.
It’s not Cora. It’s Reilly, though his name still appears as Reed on my phone.
Yeah, I forgot to change that, mainly because I never thought he’d call.
Why on earth is he calling now?
I answer the call and hold the phone to my ear. “What do you want?”
“It seems like you’ve found yourself a boyfriend,” Reilly says on the other end of the line. “Is that why you wouldn’t even think about my offer? Because you had your hopes pinned on someone more famous?”
I roll my eyes. Unbelievable.
If it wasn’t for his attitude and that stupid offer of his, I wouldn’t even be in this trouble in the first place.
“First of all, Kaleb Wilson isn’t my boyfriend,” I answer. “You should know better than to believe everything you read, Reilly. Second, your offer wasn’t worth thinking about.”
