I would miss Drew Kline.
We'd not really gotten to know each other well, we rarely said more than a few words - and they tended to be directions; faster, harder, there, and more - but somehow Drew had always seen through to the inside. Seen the truth I'd hidden behind the party-girl.
I'd thought he was sabotaging my dates, turning each night into his because he didn't want to share anymore.
I wondered now if that was the case at all.
If anyone was sabotaging anything, it was me sabotaging my life.
But I had to clear the decks, go solo, find myself. It would hurt. But I didn't know how else to redeem myself, how else to figure out the mess inside.
Black or red?
I wasn't red anymore.
I didn't want to be black.
What did that leave?
Grey, my mind offered, and I snorted a sound of disgust. As if. I was screwed up, romantic notions had no place in my head right now.
"I'm trying to make it to happy, Gen," I finally said.
"You'll make it," she replied softly from my side. "We'll make sure you make it." She flicked a glance at Dom. He nodded immediately, one short bob of his head.
"Thanks, guys. I guess I had better see Detective Pierce."
Dominic stood up and headed toward the door, then stopped, fingers wrapped around the handle.
"Um," he said, a very un-Dominic-like statement. He ran a hand behind his neck, rubbing. He looked awkward. "Drew Kline is also waiting to see you." He pierced me with his blue-blue eyes. "Is there a reason why one of my best friends is personally invested in seeing that you're all right?"
"Dominic!" Gen exclaimed.
I sighed. "Show the Detective in first, then I'll deal with Drew."
He hesitated, Gen glared. Then with a shrug of his shoulders he walked out the door.
Drew. Just what the hell was he up to now?
"Do you want me to go?" Gen asked, breaking into my musings.
I shook my head. "Nah. Stay while I talk to Pierce, but when I deal with Drew, it might be best if you go."
She bit her lip, contemplating something. Then, "Why is Drew waiting to see you?"
After everything that had happened, and everything that I'd just opened up about, admitting Drew was one of my stable seemed a small thing to do. This was Gen. My best friend. She'd proven how much she cared and how little she judged just now.
But I was going to end it with Drew. Probably today. She'd never have to know. Dominic would never have to hear about it. Drew and I could attend the same events and pretend we didn't know each other's body intimately. It would be simpler that way.
But when I opened my mouth to misdirect, to tell her he was offering me legal advice about something or other, the words wouldn't form. I'd kept Drew a secret for so long. Part of the thrill was sneaking around behind everyone's back. If I was honest with myself, that still excited me. So much so, that for a moment I wondered if I could keep him. Just him. If no one knew about us, then I could almost pretend I wasn't really doing anything illicit at all.
My mouth opened and then snapped closed. I sucked in a breath of air, thought how ridiculous I must look, and then Gen beat me to it.
"You look like a guppy," she said. "If you don't want to talk about Drew and whatever is going on, fine. Just say so. But consider this. If you want to start over, make yourself into someone else from scratch, then all you have to do is do it. Take the leap, grab it with both fists. Own it. Just because you're questioning your life right now, does not mean you aren't still Kelly Quayle. The Kelly Quayle I see behind the swinging hips and sexy smiles. You live life to the max, Kels. I know this has all gotten out of hand and scared the crap out of you, but please be careful what you cull from your life. Your attitude, your ability to have fun and let go. Your take no prisoners, say it how it is style. Talk about Drew. Don't talk about Drew. But pick one and own it. And please, don't start worrying about what people will think now. Who gives a fuck. This is your life, no one else's. Just make it the life you want to live."
Wow. For a Genevieve verbal diarrhoea moment that was quite insightful. I struggled to take everything I could from the words. But there were so many, and all of them had a point, and right now I was simply too raw to face the truth between the lines.
Luckily, or not, I was saved the effort when Ryan Pierce walked through the door.
"Kelly. Genevieve," he said, with a nod of his head. Getting right down to business.
There wasn't anywhere for him to sit, Gen's office wasn't that large, so he leaned his baulk back against the closed door, pulling a pad and pen from his jacket pocket.
"How are you?" he asked, directing the question to me.
"A little shocked," I admitted.
"Has he done anything like this in the past?"
"No."
"How long have you known him?"
"About eight months."
"What set him off, do you think?"
And so the questions went.
Ryan didn't exactly hound me, but he certainly managed to get a pretty solid idea of the situation by the time he left. Leaving me exhausted, embarrassed, and a little mad at the world right then. I didn't need this complication; filing a report, pressing charges against an ex-lover, knowing it would probably go to court and I'd have to make an appearance. If there was ever evidence to prove my lifestyle had taken a decidedly unhealthy turn, this was it.
I'd made an absolute fuck up of my world since Friday night, but if I was honest with myself, it hadn't really started then. I was beginning to understand the correlation between my past and my present. And I didn't like it one bit. But it had been my choice to become what I am; what I have been until today. I chose this path, it was all on me.
Well, no longer. It was time to face up to my history, acknowledge my mistakes, and maybe, maybe, try to find a healthy way to deal with what happened back then. I was thirteen when it all went to hell, such an impressionable age. My life changed, in ways I didn't know how to handle. I have been walking this path since. That's a long time to act a certain way. Could I change that easily?
I was scared that I couldn't. I looked over at Gen, who was watching me silently, and wished I was as strong as she'd become. Sure, she'd had her moments. Brett Elliott, her loser ex, was not one of her finer choices. But she'd grown so much since then. A real woman, with a beautiful life ahead of her. Part of me wanted that too. Part of me wasn't sure I deserved it. And another part, just thought I would never change, never overcome the need for adventure, for pushing my limits, for excitement and the thrill of the next hit.
How the hell was I going to do this? Cold turkey seemed the only way.
A knock sounded out on the door and before either of us answered Drew walked in. His soft grey eyes landing on me. He must have known Gen was there, but he didn't act as though he did. He just looked at me, sucking all air from the room like Dominic does. It must have been a lawyer thing. He was dressed in a charcoal suit and silver tie, which only made those fucking eyes stand out even more. He looked concerned, genuinely worried. But he hid it well, Gen probably couldn't even see those small lines that bracketed his mouth and eyes and let me know he was on edge.
He cleared his throat, and finally acknowledged Gen with a smile and nod of his head.
"Do you mind if I have a word with Kelly?" he asked.
"Of course not," she replied, standing up and coming directly over to me. She leaned down and hugged me fiercely, then whispered in my ear, "Just call. I'll be outside. I'm here for you, remember that." Then she squeezed my hand in hers and slipped past Drew out the door.
We stared at each other, his jaw flexing as he ground his teeth. A bit like at the Sky Tower when I was sure he wanted to say something, but he chickened out in the end.
I had to make this quick. Get this over with. The more emotion he showed towards me, the harder it was going to be to cut him loose.
I'd thought he'd be the last I would let go. Spike then him
. Holding on to something I couldn't even name, let alone recognise, for as long as I could. But it was now or never. Delaying this would be monumentally bad.
"Drew," I started, but he held up a hand, palm up, for me to stop.
For some reason I obeyed the motion, my heart beating a little faster in my throat.
"I know there's one more in your group of men you haven't scraped off yet," he said, surprising the fuck out of me. "Phone him now and do it."
What? I stared at him. He held my incredulous gaze with a calm and steady one of his own.
"Why I should I do that?" I demanded, and to hell with the fact that I had already planned to get in touch with Spike this evening. Today had been fucking awful, one more conversation letting one more of my guys down wouldn't make it any worse than it already was.
But I was doubting that now.
"Because I have a proposition for you," he explained, which didn't clarify anything.
"So?" Petulant I could be.
He offered a crooked smirk, my stupid heart increased in speed.
"So," he said slowly, drawing the one syllable word out. "I won't make it, unless you're free from all your previous commitments."
"What if I'm not interested," I argued, giving a flick of my hair in signature don't-push-me Kelly Quayle style.
His smirk turned into an appreciative grin.
He took a seductive step towards me. I stopped breathing. From no more than a foot away he spread his jacket and placed his hands in his trouser pockets. A typical Drew Kline stance that I'd seen a hundred times before now. But for some reason it was impossible not to look there. Not to see if he was hard. Hungry. Like I realised I was for him.
Ah, fuck it. Good intentions meant nothing when faced with a Drew erection in front of my eyes.
I was a lost cause. I needed to end things with him, and here I was contemplating if we could have a quickie before anyone knocked on the blasted door.
"Kelly," he said, his voice lower than before. "Make the call."
Still, I pushed back. I couldn't help it. It's just me.
"Why?"
He could have said any number of things. Sexy, raunchy, or debauched. Challenging, confrontational, or provocative. I would have responded to any of those. He was familiar with them, we'd bantered enough for him to know what pushed my buttons and how.
But he didn't choose that route. He said, instead, "Because I'm going to help you."
What the fuck?
He leaned down, placed his hands on either side of my body on the couch, caging me in, and said, "Because if I don't, I'm afraid you may be lost forever. And that would be a crying fucking shame."
What the fuck?
Chapter 8
I Tended To Agree, Strangely Enough
A stand off existed between us. For several moments neither of us willing to give an inch. Silence reigned in that little office, thick and heavy, weighted in more than just the challenge he'd set or the surprise he'd just delivered.
Finally I muttered, "I'm not fucking phoning him in front of you."
And where the hell had that come from? Was I really considering doing this? I mean, I had made the decision to phone Spike and not make a personal appearance. Enough already with the face to face breaking up. I'd had my fill and most of it had been horrendous. So the phone was definitely the way to go.
But to say it aloud right now, in the middle of a battle with Drew, was tantamount to conversational suicide.
He rocked back on his heels, letting his smug smile have full rein.
"I'm not leaving until it's done," he countered, hands still in his trouser pockets, package still discernible through the fabric of his pants.
I almost asked him to put it away, not that it was out or anything, but that would have given him too much to smugly smile about.
"Well then, enjoy the wait," I offered coolly, settling back into my seat.
He stared at me, those spellbinding grey eyes just watching. Something was working behind them, though. I was betting it was his next scheme to get me to comply. Drew liked a challenge. He liked butting up against me. He constantly pushed for a reaction when we were together, entangled and on the edge. Oh, he liked being in charge, evidenced by his haughty command I phone Spike in front of him right now. But Drew got something out of me fighting back. I could see it in his respirations, in the fluttering of his pulse at the base of his neck.
When I resisted, when I offered him a fight, Drew got turned on.
Finally he said, "What do you want out of life, Kelly?"
The question surprised me so much I answered.
"Fun. I want fun." And then I forced myself not to cringe at the admission, one that was firmly within the old Kelly Quayle's world, not mine.
"Is that all you want? Think about it for a second. Really think. What is it you want most in your life right now?"
I wanted this conversation to be over. I wanted him to leave me alone to lick my wounds. I wanted to bury my head in the sand a little longer. Pretend that my life wasn't so screwed up.
And then, I wanted to be normal. To not need that adrenaline rush so much. To be like Genevieve, and have a future. To be happy.
I wanted to be happy.
"I want to be happy," I whispered, unsure why I was answering him.
Maybe it was the way he asked. Maybe lawyers just have a knack for getting you to open up.
Or maybe it was just him.
"Good," he said, as though I'd accomplished a miraculous thing. "How do you envisage being happy?"
What a question. I had no idea how to be happy. Other than lose myself in the moment, in the body of the man I was currently with. But that was a false happiness, wasn't it? Because afterwards I'd feel... empty, disappointed, sad.
"I don't know," I murmured.
"Yes you do," he pushed, and I crossed my arms over my chest and offered him a glare. He laughed, the bastard. "Do you think I haven't seen what's been happening? What you've been doing?" he admitted, voice soft and careful now.
"What do you mean?" I asked, dreading the answer, but strangely being drawn to it. What had Drew Kline observed?
"You're cleaning house. Wiping the slate clear. Starting over. Someone only does that if they're unhappy with what they've got, who they are. If they're trying to find a new path. But there's a danger," he whispered, making me lean forward to catch his next words. Or maybe I was just mesmerised by his voice, or the story he was about to tell. The secret to all my problems.
Come on, Drew. Save me.
I held my breath. Partly because of the tension, mainly because I'd just realised I wanted his help.
"You lose yourself completely," he continued, in that same soft, enchanting voice. "You get rid of some of the good along with the bad."
He suddenly moved the last of the distance between us, standing over me for a split second and then lowering himself to his knees in front of mine.
My breath rushed out of me in one quick push.
"There are parts of you that are miraculous, Kelly Quayle. Parts of you that truly shine. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I saw it. A unique and dazzling ability to live life." He said 'live' like it meant more than the word actually should. "You've gotten a little lost along the way, mistaken some of that intensity you inherently have for something entirely else. And now you're floundering. Decided it all needs to go. But it would be a regrettable shame if I let that happen. If I let you disappear along with the rest. Just because your life needs a clean up, doesn't mean that you have to forget who you are. You're irrepressible. Unquenchable. A take no prisoners, liver of life."
Take no prisoners. Isn't that what Gen had also said?
"You do know how to be happy," he added, his hands somehow massaging the sides of my legs on the couch. I hadn't realised he'd gotten that close. I'd been blind-sided by all of his words. "You just don't know how to do it in a safe and secure way."
He paused, I got the impression it was on purpose, to lend weight to his
next words.
"I can show you how, while keeping you protected from harm. Help you find yourself, find that happiness, and get out of this with some of that spectacular I see, still inside."
Holy fuck. He was good at this, wasn't he? He must really wow them in court.
"Now phone your last man," he said, steadily, almost challengingly, "and take the first step on your new path, knowing I'll keep you safe throughout."
I just stared at him. He stared back. Not a single word passed between us, but I swear I had never felt more connected to someone before in my life.
I'd always thought Drew had seen inside of me, seen past the fluff and sparkles, seen a little of what was inside. I had never, in a million different imaginings, considered he'd seen all of that.
Was any of it true? Gen had asked me to be careful of what I culled. She'd inferred there was good in me, even though right now I felt like it was all black. And now Drew, almost the same words, in fact the 'take no prisoners' were the very same words Gen had used. There was something about me they liked, despite the lifestyle I'd chosen to live. Something they felt the need to protect in some small way. Gen by pleading with me to be careful how I reinvent myself. Drew by taking on the responsibility to help me get to the other side still intact.
"I don't understand what's in it for you?" I asked, staring hard into those dove-grey eyes.
He blinked, sucked in an almost imperceptible breath of air, then flexed his jaw. It was his tell. I was beginning to see. When he was reluctant to admit something, or ask something that was on his mind. In this case, he wasn't sure how much to show me of him.
"I've already said," he finally answered. "It would be a regrettable shame if I let you disappear along with the rest."
"So, this is your good Samaritan moment for the year?" I asked, incredulously.
His lips quirked, one side higher than the other.
"Oh, don't get me wrong, Kelly. I intend to enjoy myself while I help you find your way to the other side. With the knowledge that I don't have to stand in line behind another four men. So, phone your last one, cut him loose. Then, for the duration in which I help you find a happy medium in all of this, you will be just mine."
Sweet Seduction Sabotage Page 8
