Taming Blake (A New Adult Romance): The Complete Trilogy

by Eve, Charlotte

  The skinny guy on the door with two full sleeve tattoos and thick black glasses (was I really the only person my age without a tattoo in this city?) slowly and disdainfully checked over the long, three-page guest list, before finally locating my name and striking it through with a quick, dismissive motion. And as he did so, I noticed that there was a ‘+1’ next to my name, in case I’d decided to bring someone. Not that I had in the end.

  What would Blake have made of a place like this?

  I thanked the guy on the door, and then weaved my way into the venue. Wow. It was big, much bigger than the dive bars I’d seen Fallon play in before now. And it was actually busy too, already filling up with a painfully cool, carefully-dressed crowd of, yes, tattooed hipsters, all swigging nonchalantly from brown beer bottles. I felt a twinge of worry, in case I was a little over-dressed, but no — I’d pitched my outfit just right.

  I was making my way towards the bar, wondering if the venue stocked anything other than beer, when I heard a familiar friendly voice behind me.

  “Hey there, stranger!”

  I spun round and there was Fallon. I squealed when I saw her and we raced towards each other, hugging and spinning each other round, not caring if we weren’t playing it painfully cool like everyone else in this place.

  “Oh my god have I missed you,” I said, squeezing her so tight I worried I might hurt her.

  “I’ve missed you too,” she grinned, squeezing me right back.

  But at the same time, I knew from the little contact I’d had with her over the last week or so that she was obviously having an awesome time on tour, and I couldn’t wait to hear all about her adventures in far greater detail. After all, I was still somewhat used to almost hourly updates about her life via phone call, email and g-chat (not to mention in-person), but since she’d left for tour, I’d only got two (admittedly long) emails, sent during the few times she’d managed to grab a moment to herself.

  And I was about to fire a million and one questions at her, when her eyes moved to someone behind me and she began waving and calling to them.

  “No way! Josh! Over here! Come say hi!”

  I turned around to see who exactly she was waving so madly at, and when I stared into those big brown eyes once again, I felt my heart flip.

  No way.

  What are the chances!

  It was Josh, the guy from the Guggenheim, the one I’d made such an ass of myself in front of. I couldn’t quite believe it, but at the same time, I was really glad to get a second chance to be friends. And I guessed the feeling must have been mutual, because when he saw me his face lit right up in a bright, surprised smile.

  “Josh, this is Jessica,” Fallon began, still totally unaware that we knew each other. “And Jessica, this is Josh. He used to live in my building.”

  “Hey,” Josh said, his brown eyes so unbelievably big and warm behind the tortoiseshell frames of his glasses that they kind of took my breath away for a moment.

  “Hello … again,” I replied.

  “Again?” Fallon cut in. “Oh wow! I didn’t realize you two knew each other already.”

  “Yeah, we’ve kind of met before,” I explained sheepishly. “But only briefly …”

  “I gave Jessica my phone number ... and she never called,” Josh added with a cheeky, hard-to-resist smile.

  Wow, I can’t believe he just came out with that. Maybe not everyone in the world likes to play games ...

  At this Fallon laughed and shook her head. “Well, I’ll leave you to catch up and grab us some drinks from the bar. I’ve got some tickets! It’s only for beer, but hey, it’s free! You want?”

  “Thanks,” we both said.

  And with that, she was off, leaving me alone with Josh. He was even taller than I remembered, and I had to admit -- even more handsome, too.

  “I’m really sorry I didn’t ever call you,” I said, and I realized in that moment that I meant it. “If I’m honest, things have been pretty crazy lately. My head was all over the place.”

  “And how’s your head now?” he asked.

  “Clear as day,” I said.

  “So, how do you know Fallon? I used to live in the apartment below her. We used to jam sometimes. But the rest of the neighbors weren’t quite so keen on her drum kit ... I moved out last year, when I got this amazing live-work space. But I never saw you around before?”

  “We went to the same college,” I explained. “But I did Interior Design, not Print Making. And we certainly didn’t jam together. Fallon was definitely in a way cooler crowd than me. We bumped into each other again last year, and hit it off.”

  “Right, Interior Design. I remember,” he smiled.

  I blushed; it felt kind of nice that he’d remembered our conversation.

  “Anyway, you look pretty cool to me,” he said, jokingly. “I can’t believe you didn’t run with the cool kids.”

  “I’m undercover. In disguise. Don’t tell anyone” I whispered, unable to keep the smile off my face.

  He laughed and so did I.

  It was infectious. It seemed as if, like last time at the café, Josh exuded this crazy warmth and good humor, wherever he went. It wasn’t so much that he made me laugh, but that he made me feel like I could crack a joke, too.

  “So, if I invited you out for coffee again, would you run away this time?” he continued. “Or maybe we could have lunch some time next week? Or what about ... Wait, what’s wrong? Have I said the wrong thing? I’ve pushed it to far, haven’t I?! You’re clearly not a girl that lunches on the first date ...”

  I shook my head. There was only one thing in the world that could have pulled me out of my good-humored flirting with Josh. And sure enough, there he was, coming towards me. The last person I’d expected to see in a place like this.

  Blake.

  He looked so out of place, pushing his way awkwardly through the crowd in his tailored blue suit and cream raincoat, and from the snooty looks he was getting from the hipsters all around him, it was clear they found him just as puzzling as he found them.

  His icy grey eyes locked onto mine and he began striding purposefully towards me, just as Fallon returned with our beers.

  I stood rooted to the spot. There was no way this was going to turn out well. But what could I do? I couldn’t just run away now, could I?

  Sure enough, Blake gently took my arm trying to draw me into a private conversation. But I didn’t let him. I was still angry about our phone call earlier, and seeing him here, so out of place, I suddenly felt in charge.

  “Jessica, I’d like a word,” he said quietly but firmly, just to me, completely ignoring Fallon and Josh, who gave each other a ‘who’s this guy?’ glance.

  I could tell they were both wondering why I would know a slick businessman like Blake, and why in the hell he’d come here, to an indie rock show in his suit and Burberry raincoat.

  But if Blake was going to be rude enough to ignore the people I was obviously here with, then the only thing I could do was play it super-polite.

  “Oh, Fallon, Josh! Meet Blake!” I cooed, as if I hadn’t noticed just how awkward this whole thing was becoming.

  “Of course!” Fallon replied. “Good to finally meet you!” She shook his hand, forcing a smile onto her face as the penny dropped. It was obvious I wasn’t the only one pretending to be all sweetness and light; I’d known her long enough to tell that there was something guarded about the tone of her voice.

  She obviously doesn’t get a good vibe off him, and I’m not surprised.

  “Can I have a word with you? Alone?” Blake whispered, turning his cold grey eyes towards the exit.

  “I’m with my friends,” I replied, trying to keep my voice neutral and not show how pissed I was that he’d just turned up here, and was trying to boss me around once again.

  “Please, Jessica,” he urged, perhaps a hint of sadness in his eyes.

  I looked to Fallon, then to Josh, then back to Blake, and sighed with frustration.

  “Excus
e me for just a minute,” I told them, before taking his arm and heading out with him in silence, both of us weaving through the crowds of hipsters without speaking, a strange tension building between us with each fresh step we took.

  “What do you want?” I asked, as soon as we were out on the street.

  Now we were alone, I wanted him to see just how angry I was.

  “You, Jessica, I want you,” he said, taking an urgent step towards me, backing me right up against the cold wet brickwork of the club, his hands reaching for my ass.

  “I didn’t ask you here, Blake,” I replied, moving my face away to avoid his kiss, wriggling out from his grasp.

  He smiled. He obviously wasn’t taking me seriously.

  He thinks I’m just playing hard to get.

  When he took an eager step towards me again, once more reaching for my butt, I actually felt myself forcefully pushing him back off me. I hadn’t intended it to happen until I did it. And he looked genuinely confused, like no girl had ever told him ‘no’ before.

  “What’s this all about, Jessica?”

  “You don’t own me,” I said. “You can’t just pick me up whenever you want and then drop me again, whenever the hell it suits you, Blake. I didn’t turn up to Milan and drag you out of whatever supermodel’s hotel room you probably slept in, did I? What gives you the right to turn up here like this? You think that just because you gave me a credit card, I’m yours? Well, you’re fucking wrong.”

  The words came flying from my mouth with way more venom than I’d intended, and I realized that they must have struck home because I watched something change in his face – a wince of pain, perhaps.

  And with that, I turned and headed back inside, leaving him shocked and silent on the sidewalk.

  I rejoined Fallon and Josh. Fallon handed me my beer bottle and I took a big hit, for once glad for the sharp, intense taste of the beer, as if it might somehow wash away the memory of what had just happened.

  “Who was that guy, anyway?” Josh asked, shaking his head, as if he couldn’t work out how I could possibly know a square like that.

  I looked to Fallon for a moment, then to him.

  “Just my boss.”

  §

  Circles were amazing – better than I’d ever seen them before. Fallon played it cool behind her drum kit, but in between songs, when everyone cheered, she couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. And the other two girls in the band, Clara and Evelyn, played and sang like their lives depended on it. The short time on tour had obviously done them good already. They were tight: totally in sync with each other.

  And I wasn’t the only one who seemed to think they were good, either; the whole crowd was into it, nodding along as they played, clapping and whooping wildly between songs.

  “They were awesome!” Josh shouted as their short set came to a close, leaving the whole room cheering and roaring, an electric charge running through the air.

  “I’m so proud of her!” I grinned back, glad to have Josh here, glad I wasn’t on my own after that horrible scene with Blake.

  Again and again, the thing that ran through my mind were his words on that last night in London: You do know I’m seeing other people ...

  And as I thought it, my attention – and my eyes – drifted occasionally to Josh. Because he was kind of cute, wasn’t he? And if Blake was allowed to ‘see other people’ then why wasn’t I, too?

  After all, we’d been flirting all evening. Maybe we could take things a little further ...

  Pretty soon, St. Vincent, the headline act came on. I guessed Fallon had things to do back stage, so Josh and I were left to ourselves to watch, and I found myself immediately transfixed by her amazing performance: she was so strong and cool and confident, not to mention fabulously dressed in a skintight white dress and knee-length matching boots, her bleached hair slicked back, her guitar-playing out of this world, and her vocal delivery pitch-perfect.

  Wow.

  If only I could be as cool and confident and in-control as that ...

  She danced, sang and played guitar all at once, all with an effortless calm and control. It was amazing.

  And as the drums pounded and the guitars wailed and the synths fizzed and swished, I found myself turning around, away from the stage to face Josh, who had positioned himself just behind me. I looked up at him and he looked back down at me, smiling a warm open honest smile, and before I could change my mind, I leaned in and kissed him.

  He pulled me closer, his soft lips brushing against my own, the sharp taste of beer on our tongues. I kissed him hard and hungrily, feeling my heart pounding in time to the beat of the drums, the whole room melting away for a moment, my nervous fingers slipping themselves down his chest and cupping the hot swelling bulge of his cock through his jeans for a delicious moment.

  And then ...

  All of a sudden it was as if the floodlights came up and I froze, realizing that I was kissing someone else, and I quickly pulled away again.

  “You okay?” Josh mouthed, trying his best to communicate over the intense roar of the music.

  But I couldn’t explain it, and not just because of the noise. All I could do was shake my head and mouth the words, “I’m sorry,” before quickly pushing my way out through the churning crowd, towards the neon green EXIT sign ...

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I lay on my bed, trying to filter out the noises coming from Gina’s room across the hall, all those super-loud groans and moans and sighs she was making, not to mention Julius’s occasional animal grunts, and, to top it all off, they were so loud, I could even hear them over The Best of Prince, which she’d had on repeat for the last three hours, too.

  I still hadn’t talked to her, or anyone, about what had gone down last night with Blake. Or with Josh.

  Oh God, what a stupid horrible mess ...

  I needed a just little longer to get my head together and work out what I really wanted.

  Because now you’ve got two guys to decide between. That is if Josh ever wants anything to do with you, after you run away from him for a second time ...

  Just then, my cell buzzed into life, alerting me to a new text message. I picked it up.

  Hey, I got your no from F. Hope that’s okay? I really enjoyed spending time with you last night. I’d like to see you again. Wanna meet tonight? Josh x

  And then, as if that wasn’t enough, my cell actually started ringing, too, this time saying ‘Unknown Caller’ on the screen’s ID.

  I know I’m making it sound like my phone was just constantly ringing off the hook, but the truth of it was, I’d given myself a duvet day, and I’d spent the past eight hours or so hiding in my room, without so much as a single peep from my cell.

  I paused for a moment then picked up, answering rather cautiously. “Hello?”

  “Ah, Jessica! Alex Wiltshire here,” the voice said with a warm purr. “I said I’d be in touch, didn’t I?”

  “Oh hi,” I replied, a little taken aback, but at the same time excited that he’d finally called to arrange a meeting, even if right now was a little late in the evening to be calling people about business matters.

  “Well, I was just wondering if you were free this evening — I thought we might talk things over at my place. What do you say?”

  I hesitated, thinking about Josh: the kind of fun we might have if I texted him back right now.

  Then I thought about my future: the kind of business contacts a meeting with Alex might lead to.

  Once more in my life, I seemed to be at a crossroads. I couldn’t stay in bed all day. I had to make a decision.

  I paused before I answered.

  §

  I took a deep breath then rang the buzzer. And after a moment’s silence, I heard movement within the apartment, steps heading towards the door. This place was very different to Blake’s pad. There was no doorman in the lobby, or attendant in the elevator. Everything was actually a bit run down, and I wondered if perhaps he had another more expensive apartment som
ewhere else too, and just used this place for business meetings ...

  Just then the door swung open, interrupting my thoughts, and there stood Alex Wiltshire, dressed not in his usual formal attire, but in casual cream chinos and a loose-fitting Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned rather too far at the collar, revealing a spray of bright white hair on his tanned leathery chest.

  “So! You made it!” he said, stepping aside to invite me in. “How lovely!”

  I smiled and nodded politely, taking a tentative step into the rather dimly-lit apartment. I followed him down a small corridor and through to a large, open-plan living room and kitchen, straight away noticing the somewhat out-of-date decor. Almost all the furniture in the room was leather-covered and the whole place smelled overpoweringly of cigars, turning my stomach a little. A huge record player stood in one corner, pumping out some kind of sleazy-sounding jazz. And I don’t know what it was exactly, but I started to get a bad feeling about this whole meeting. Something about it just felt kind of ... shady.

  “Can I fix you a drink of something, honey?” Alex said, moving over to the mini bar and pouring himself an extra-large whiskey on the rocks. “Vodka? Gin, perhaps? And of course, I’ve got some champagne on ice, too ...”

  “No, I’m fine thanks,” I said rather curtly. I just wanted to get this over with. And my feeling of unease was growing. After all, what kind of meeting was it where you drank champagne? “So, about this work you wanted me to do for you …”

  “Hey, hey, hey. Let’s not rush things,” Alex interrupted. “That’s not how I operate. I always find that business works best when two people get to know each other a little better first. What do you say?”

  “The thing is,” I stammered, “of course I agree with you about the importance of business relationships, and I’d really love to stay and talk, but I’m actually meeting a friend very soon, so perhaps we should reschedule … How about brunch?”

  “Of course, I know all about you busy young New York women. Always on the go! But don’t you think you should take a moment to appreciate the finer things in life? Come now, sit down,” he insisted, patting the shiny brown leather of the couch, right next to where he had placed himself. “Even if you are in a hurry, you’re not going to stand there for the whole meeting, are you?”