“Of course I do.”
“Then can the old McKenzie come back please? Please?”
I wrapped my arms around my bare waist and crossed my legs feeling super exposed. Sensing my uncomfortableness, he handed me my dress, and on wobbly legs, I stood, attempting to slip my dress back on. He helped me steady myself as I stepped into it. The zip was slow as he fastened me back in.
I finally sat back down and watched the ocean waves, being careful with my words. I didn’t want to be careless.
“The truth is, I’ve been fighting how I’ve been feeling. But my personality isn’t like yours. I’m more analytical, and as much as I want to deny that, it’s what will make me a great surgeon one day. I can’t deny the facts that you’ve lived in this whole other world without me for a decade. A decade of which you say not to Google. You want me to trust you, yet you have secrets.”
“They aren’t secrets. They’re lies!”
He looked hurt.
“I’m sorry, Kyle. This is just how I feel.”
“A relationship has to be built on trust.”
“Is that what this is? And were you planning on making me your girlfriend after all of this?”
He looked down at his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Look, this is a complicated subject for me for many reasons.”
He looked like a deflated balloon.
“That’s what I thought. I can’t be someone’s play-toy. I just can’t.”
“That’s not what you are!”
“I’m sorry, Kyle. I can’t do this anymore.”
“Don’t you know it’s not about the sex with us? It’s more than that.”
It has everything to do with the sex.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I cried half the plane ride home. It was just the pilot and two attendants and me. A driver took me home. I arrived to an empty apartment, and it was past 2am. I really needed Shelly but I wouldn’t spoil any fun she was having on account of me being a Debbie Downer
The time delay worked to my advantage, and I’d make my classes in the morning. As I poured the bathwater and soaked into rose salts, I immediately regretted the decision for using the scent. Roses, from now on, would always and forever remind me of that night at the club when and where I met him.
It would always remind me of a life of luxury, a life of precarious moments. A life of throwing caution to the wind. It was now time to get my old self back and get back to what I could control. What I’m good at. What my own dreams are.
Medical school.
Go to sleep. Go to sleep!
I let out an annoyed sigh. I just wanted to sleep, to slip away and forget about my thoughts. Forget about him.
It was 3:37am. How much longer was I going to toss and turn?
It was midnight in Maui. I wonder what he’s doing....
Stop thinking!
I threw off my blanket and made my way into the living room. Might as well study. I made some coffee, lit our fire place, and changed into cozy leggings, socks, and a sweatshirt. I read a couple pages of notes from last week’s lecture but my mind kept replaying the memories of hours earlier. Just hours earlier!
“Stop thinking!” I shouted at myself to an empty room.
The door swung open, and it was Shelly with hazy eyes, obviously tipsy. She screamed in fright when she saw me which caused me to shriek in fright as well.
“What!?”
“Why are you here!? And not there!?” She placed her bag down on the table before furiously pacing in front of me, all the while shouting at me as if I were her daughter and I disappointed her. “What the FUCK is wrong with you, McKenzie! What the FUCK!?”’ Yet I couldn’t even bring myself to give her an answer. All I could do was keep my head in my hands, shaking it back and forth. I couldn’t even bring myself to tears. There was no emotion.
Zilch.
Nada.
It was as if that last sexual moment with him out on the terrace by the sea not only birthed the most crazy emotional experience I’d ever felt, but something else was released.
Something I wasn’t sure what was.
And it scared me to hell.
“What...happened?”
I continued rolling my head in my hands, unable to form words. I felt brain dead. There were absolutely NO thoughts. No feeling.
I was frozen.
“Hellllooooooo???? Earth to McKenzie?”
“I don’t know,” I managed to mumble.
“What’s that?”
“I don’t know!” I shouted louder.
“Hey, you don’t have to shout at me.”
“You’re shouting! I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be shouting at you. It’s just, you’re shouting at me like you’re so disappointed in me. And, I can’t bear to think that. I can’t take that right now. I can’t—”
And then the tears poured.
The tears ran for their dear lives, and as if on speed, they evaporated immediately and made their way back to the pools in my eyes for rinse and repeat. Push, pause, play.
“Oh, honey...come here. I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arms around me and held me tight before wrapping a cozy blanket around me.
“I’m sorry, Kenze. I guess I was projecting a bit on to you. And I’m sorry. It’s just from the outsider looking in, he seemed perfect. Looked perfect. And he’s a—”
“Look. I get all that. I do. I just...” I looked into the crackling fire, watching the lights dance and change colors. The truth was, I didn’t know.
“You know what you need?”
“No.” I said through my sniffles.
“Some coffee with Kahlua.”
I looked at the giant French country clock that hung on our brick wall. It was nearing 4am.
“But, I have class in the morning.”
“Honey, you may have to call in sick. This is MAJ.”
“I don’t know.”
“Honey, how on earth are you going to focus on your studies if you don’t even know what you’re thinking? You should see yourself right now. It’s like you’re suffering majorly from post traumatic stress syndrome. What happened over there?”
What happened?
Ummmm how do I even begin to explain. Any of it. What happened is there’s a man that I met in a sex club who made me feel such intense emotion when we made love, who bid for me, which means I was at sex club to offer sex to pay for medical school. Who does that!? And not only that, but we shared amazing sexual experiences in some location in the middle of California somewhere. But then he whisked me away to freaking Maui. And he had an entire compound that was his.
All his!
Who dressed me in the most perfect designer gowns.
Who took such careful care in making love to me, kissing my shoulders, caressing my cheeks, pressing me into him.
I couldn’t help but think about that whicker chair when I was having a freak out moment and he pulled me into him, wrapping my legs around him. And all I could see was the sky blue and the water behind me before he carried me naked into the water.
Just like that.
Free as a bird.
Free to feel.
But who really lives like that?
Who?
Shelly handed me my spiked coffee, and I took a sip, letting it warm my chilled body.
“Mmmmm....”
“Told you.”
“Who lives like that?”
“Like what?”
“No, that’s just it. I was thinking out loud about the way he was, felt—”
“Mmmm...I’m dying to know how he was. I mean a rich handsome billionaire like that. Was he all kinky like Fifty Shades?”
Ignoring her, I went on.
“And I realized, that’s what my issue was. It got so intense, so pleasurable, that I felt if I felt any more goodness, happiness—that it would all be taken away. The higher I would climb, the harder the fall would be. And I was afraid to climb any higher. I am afraid to climb any higher.” I took another sip of my drink.
“You’re afraid?”
I nodded slowly.
“I’m...afraid.”
“Well, what does that do to anyone? Fear?”
“Well, I was just afraid that it was too good to be true. I mean, what happens when he’s tired of me?”
“I don’t know. He seemed pretty into you.” I just sat there, unmoved, off in another dimension. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Her soft hand trailed along my face, carefully smoothing my sweaty locks.
“It’s....”
I couldn’t tell her about the club. I was sworn to secrecy, and I never wanted to put her in danger.
“Listen...I was thinking, why don’t you just call him right now? Just call him. Explain what you’re feeling. Explain that you’re just overwhelmed by his wealthy status and you’ve never met a guy like him before and you’re afraid of getting your heart broken. It’s as simple as that.”
A dramatic sigh escaped my tight pondering lips.
“If only it were that simple.”
“It is that simple, girl.”
I shook my head no.
“It isn’t? Then...I’m confused. Do you just...not like him?”
“It’s...the opposite.”
“What? Come on. Get it out. Don’t let it block your thoughts and emotions. You need all the brainpower you have for med school.”
“I can’t help but to think about all the other girls...I mean, women he’s been with.”
Her face softened as if she understood where I was coming from.
“You know, I mean, I’m sure he’s had hundreds....”
Shelly let out a motherly sigh and curled up next to me, “Ohhh...sweetie...I understand. A powerful guy like that...I mean, it’s like rock star syndrome, you know? It’s the natural King syndrome who gets women left and right. But the important thing is...did you connect with him? Did he express his interest in you? Or was this merely play and you couldn’t take it?”
Play?
I thought about the hip necklace...the things he showed me. The hike in Maui...his talks of confessing who he was and his twin brother and his father...feeling like he knew me. The sexual fantasies he opened me up to. And then that device on the terrace out in the open windy air.
Other women.
I felt sick to my stomach thinking about it.
Just don’t Google me.
I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before!
“And he said not to Google him. What if he’s this horrible person and I’m just saving myself from more hurt?”
“But why does there have to be any saving? What if this was...is genuine?”
I placed my mug down on the distressed coffee table and reached for my laptop.
“Oh, you’re not checking your assignments!”
“I’m not. I’m going to Google him.”
There we sat, sipping our drinks loading the search engine for Kyle McMaster.
And there right before our eyes were the very sites he didn’t want me to see, the sites that I knew very well that once I clicked them, my view and opinion of him of being perfect would drift away, and I’d be left in even more confusion.
Kyle McMaster, a murderer.
Money talks, Murder doesn’t.
Billionaire gets away from manslaughter.
“What the...I may need something stronger to open this.”
I felt scared to click the link.
“There has to be an explanation.”
In my shock, Shelly clicked away.
19 year old actress, Charolette Nichole Danes found dead in the home of billionaire Kyle McMaster.
“Oh my gosh, I remember her from that one show on CW. Wait, what? He’s a billionaire?!”
“Oh. My. God...” Panic, heat, electricity filled my veins. I remember her too! I was only a teenager but it was the hottest show. I knew she died, but this is crazy—she died-at-his-home!
“Click on that link....”
Full of life, full of hope, full of a promising career, rising actress and star of New Light on the CW, has been found dead at billionaire Kyle McMaster’s home in Brentwood LA.
“He lives here. In LA?” I was breathless, hands shaking.
“You didn’t know where he lived?”
“No.”
“Well, this was from like eight years ago. And—”
“He’s a murderer! He’s a freaking murderer....” I walked away from the couch and began pacing. Shaking. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“You don’t know that, you know? You really don’t. Anything could have happened. It could have been a party. She could have slipped and fell. I mean, there’s a lot of things that could have happened.”
“This is pretty heavy.”
“McKenzie, don’t write him off. If he was off, he was off. Not guilty.”
“But didn’t you see the press? Money talks.” I spun away.
“Yeah, but not all the time. People can be prejudice towards money, you know.”
If anyone knew, she did. I knew that.
But yet I couldn’t shake what I was feeling. There was no way. I stormed into my bedroom and retrieved my jogging leggings, sports bra, and sweatshirt and laced up my sneakers.
“It’s 4 in the morning!” Shelly cried out in panic and disbelief.
“I can’t sleep. I can’t think. I need to run. This is freaking insane. I can’t handle any of this. I’m on the verge of a breakdown! Seriously!”
Yet I couldn’t even clear my head even as I ran my favorite path along the ocean. It was dark and it was just me, the waves, and the stars in the sky, but even with blasting music in my ears, it wouldn’t suffice.
I came back to my apartment and took a shower. It was 6:30am. I would sleep just for a REM cycle and make it to my class.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I couldn’t shake it. I was so freaked, but this provided the perfect ammunition to move on from him and to turn a blind eye to the countless presents delivered my way from him over the next two weeks.
You’re not getting away from me this easily. Business has pulled me away, but I’m coming back for you.
Dozens of roses were delivered to our apartment. So many flowers that our place looked like a florist shop.
“What are you going to do?” Shelly’s awestruck eyes pleaded with the, “aw forgive him already” look.
“Well, clearly I’m not going to talk to him! He’s a murderer!”
“Kenze, what if you know, it’s not the truth?”
“The truth is, his ex-girlfriend was a major model and actress. I have major issues. I feel like I could never measure up to those women. I can’t take that type of pressure of being compared to perfection.”
His gifts continued to come left and right, some opened, some unopened. The designer bags and shoes, Shelly happily wore around town.
Your gifts will not buy me.
But then one day I received a letter.
Dear McKenzie,
As I’m writing you this, the morning view is breathtaking along the rolling hills. The fog is a beautiful blanket, which brave adventurous birds dive down and dance in the midst and all I wish is that you are here with me. Seeing this. All I wish is that you’d dive into us. Like that.
Sometimes fog, the unknown, is the most beautiful place to be. Just because you can’t see anything, doesn’t mean there isn’t anything happening. From my perspectives from afar where I’m sitting—the low misty clouds kissing the frost covered rolling meadows looks every bit romantic. A lot like the way I see you. I see the romantic potential. You see unknown. Perhaps we can one day come to a merged perspective together. Seeing things from different angels together.
This is my favorite time of year harvesting the wine and wondering what it will taste like in a few years. The only way to know is faith. And good aging. It’s a lot like life, huh? You’ll never know unless you at least move. Make a move.
Yet, most of all, I wish you were here tasting this
with me. By the time you’ll receive this, we will have already celebrated our opening night with a gigantic feast. Perhaps if you look us up on Instagram, you’ll see a few pictures. You’ll see me in my element, a part of me you do not know. A part of me I wish you could see. To learn of.
I’m sending you this certified mail due to the subject matter at hand. One can never be too careful especially since what I want to talk to you about—The EEBC club.
I do not know the reasons for you not returning any of my texts or calls. I trust you’ve received my gifts. But all I can think about is maybe a few things. And like I mentioned above, I think I’m seeing “your fog” with a fresh perspective.
I know you and I met in a very unconventional way. But this does not discredit how I feel about you. At all. Yes, we engaged in sex way before we talked heart to heart, but trust me. Before we even spoke conversationally, our souls danced together.
Before you came into my life, life was meaningless. I felt I had seen it all and I became a hard shell. I was living, but not really. I needed excitement to fill the void. But when I saw the list, your name on that list, I was in Spain and dropped my plans. I had to see you. I had to bid for you. I had to win you. 24 hours later I was in California waiting for you. That night we shared together was the 2nd best night of my life.
My patience was treaded thin when I had to wait the months to see you again. Those four months were brutal for me. I thought of you every night before I went to sleep. You, my angel. Because of the club’s rules, I had to respect the brotherhood. I knew we’d see each other again and I also knew you were starting medical school.
But when I finally had you and knew you were the chosen queen for the night, I knew I had to devise a plan. Screw rules. It was time to make my move.
I enjoyed every minute, every second, we shared together in Maui. It’s a time I want to continually relive. That first night with you waking up in my arms, that was the best night of my life. You didn’t have to leave. We were able to spend endless amounts of time. What we shared together. Our picnic by the waterfall. I see these scenes in my mind continuously like a film. And it tortures me wondering if I’ll ever hold you in my arms again.
Wanting So Bad, Loving So Good Page 20
