Waverly (Socierty Girls #4)

by Crystal Perkins

  5

  Waverly

  I wake up, shower, and head downstairs. No matter what I find, I’m going to be okay. I keep telling myself that until I see the two women Knox left me for walking out the front door. They’re laughing, and they don’t see me, but I see them. I close my eyes, and get my breathing under control before I turn to the kitchen.

  “Thanks for lending me your ladies, man. They were smoking.”

  Knox looks up at me as he’s about to answer Cohen, and the smile leaves his face. “Yeah, they were.”

  “Huh?” Cohen asks him, and I hear the confusion in his voice.

  “Don’t play dumb just because you heard Waverly walk in the room. She knows the score, don’t you, Wave?”

  I ignore his taunt, determined to rise above it all, and do what I know is the right thing. “Can I speak to you alone for a moment, Knox?”

  “You can say whatever you have to say in front of Coh.”

  This isn’t how I wanted things to go down, but rolling with whatever’s thrown at me is part of my old training, and I’m sure I’ll need it in the future. So, here goes nothing.

  “I wanted to apologize to you for yesterday.”

  Knox starts so hard I’m afraid he’s going to fall over. “For what?”

  “When we were on the stairs, and those women approached you, I thought the worst of you before you had a chance to do anything. I know it showed on my face, and even though I was right, I shouldn’t have done it. Or thought it. You’ve been nothing but wonderful to me this past week, and I should’ve let your behavior and not what I’ve seen in the media, guide my thoughts and actions.”

  He just stands there staring at me like I’ve grown a second head. It starts to get uncomfortable, until Cohen takes pity on me. “Dude, that’s the part where you’re supposed to accept her apology.”

  “Oh yeah, of course. I definitely accept your apology. And thanks for you know, saying it. I appreciate it. More than you know.”

  “Thanks for accepting it. I’m just going to grab some juice and then I’ll be out of your way.”

  “You have big plans today, Wave?” Cohen asks me. Since Knox isn’t full on training yet, they’re taking the weekends off of formal training. He’s still doing workouts here at the house, but they don’t last for hours, and I don’t have to sit and watch.

  “I have to go through more of the emails and Facebook messages. The teams back home are going through the snail mail, but there’s a lot of electronic stuff to go through still.”

  “Poor thing. All those titties, and pussies.”

  “What?” Knox asks, looking horrified.

  “Do you really not know how many women and girls send you naked pictures?”

  “I never check it myself. I just get sent anything that needs my attention. My mom…shit, my mom used to check it for me.”

  “Yuck!” I shout before I can stop myself.

  “I’m so sorry, Wave. Can someone else look through those for you?”

  Cohen waves his hands in the area. “Me! Pick me!”

  “You are such a moron. I meant someone who could look for clues.”

  “I’ll look really closely,” he promises as I bend over because I’m laughing so hard.

  “I’m getting used to it, but thanks for the offer.”

  “I told you you’d get used to them,” Cohen reminds me.

  “Yes, you did,” I say, filling up my cup with some juice. “Have a great day.”

  I’ve just gotten settled in on one of the couches in what they call “the lounge” when Knox walks in. “Um, Wave, I was wondering if maybe you want to go out to dinner tonight. With me. Like a date.”

  “Like a date?”

  “Definitely a date. With me.”

  “You already said that,” I remind him with a smile.

  This is a side of him I’ve glimpsed a little over the last week, something he shows only to me. Or at least only me right now. I have to remember that, although I shouldn’t have judged him, he still went back to his room with those girls. And then passed them on to Cohen. That’s just gross.

  “Oh yeah. So, do you want to?”

  “I’m not going out with Coh after, or you know, having sex with him.”

  “I’d have to kill him if you did,” he says, his eyes narrowing like he wants to fight his friend right now. “I didn’t sleep with those women, Wave. I wanted you to think I did, but I didn’t.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. I swear.”

  I let out the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. “Okay. Yes. I’d love to go to dinner with you. Are we dressing up?”

  “Yes, we are.”

  “Do you know where you’re taking me?”

  “Not a clue, but I’ll have it all worked out before I come calling at your door. How about seven?”

  “I’ll be looking forward to that knock.”

  “So will I.”

  He leans over and gives me a quick kiss, before leaving me to my work while he works out. I manage to wade through a few hundred more emails and messages without finding anything out of the ordinary. Ainsley, Tegan, and Isa’s teams are going over the same things so that there are many eyes looking, but they haven’t found anything, either.

  Too soon, it’s time for me to head upstairs. I want to shower, do my hair, and put my make-up skills to the test tonight. After all, I’m going on a date with my crush, who might just be crushing back. I should be thinking about what happened last night, but I’m not. I’m letting myself be happy, and I know exactly what I’m going to wear.

  Knox

  I realize my mistake the moment we walk into the restaurant. I chose it because I’d heard celebrities and royalty alike frequent it when they’re in town, but Beluga is not what I wanted for us tonight. It’s too trendy, too bright, and too filled with the “beautiful people.” Waverly and I are both beautiful, but I wanted to romance her tonight, not show her off.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper in her ear as we run from the small group of paparazzi outside, me covering her face with my jacket as the flashes go off.

  “As long as you didn’t call them, then it’s not your fault. I’ve heard of this place, and the food is supposed to be amazing.”

  “I didn’t call them. I don’t do that.” I know some celebrities and athletes do it, but while I don’t mind the spotlight sometimes, I don’t encourage it in my private time.

  “I didn’t think you did. Let’s just enjoy our date.”

  She looks me in the eye, because she’s wearing heels with her sexy purple jumpsuit, and I match her smile with one of my own. “Did I tell you how gorgeous you look tonight?”

  “Yes. As a matter of fact, you did.”

  She does. God, does she look good in the strapless purple, even if it does have pants and not a skirt. The top has a tiny little dip in the middle that accents her cleavage, and there’s a fake tie on the side. I know it’s fake, because there’s a zipper down the other side. Her hair is pulled to one side, and cascades over her shoulder in a riot of red curls. She’s got strappy heels on, and she put makeup on today. She looks stunning with a fresh face and casual clothes on, but when she’s done up like this, she’s really breathtaking. There’s no other word I can come up with to describe her; she’s literally stolen my breath.

  “Well, expect to hear it over and over again.”

  “I heard what the man outside said to you,” she tells me as we’re seated in the center of the room.

  “What man?” I ask, pretending to not know. I wanted to punch the son of a bitch, so I’m well aware of who she means.

  “The guy who asked if you’re a ‘chubby chaser’ now.”

  The waiter comes to take our drink order, which gives me a minute to try and figure out how exactly to say what I want to. “In the past, I’ve only dated a certain type of woman.”

  “I know. I’ve seen the pictures. Plus, you get lots of emails from girls trying to show you they’ve made themselves into your
‘ideal’ woman.”

  “Wait, what?”

  The nude pics were a shock, but when I thought about it, I guess I shouldn’t have been. Women trying to make themselves into something they think is my ideal is another thing entirely. One I’m definitely not comfortable with.

  “You’re a catch,” Waverly says, rolling her eyes. “The beard when you’re not competing, the hair, the swimmer’s body. Not to mention your swagger, and your family’s staggering net worth. Every woman in this room checked you out when we walked in, and they’re still looking right now.”

  And then the lightbulb goes off. “So, because I’ve only been seen with a certain type, chicks think that’s all I want.”

  “Now you’re getting it.”

  “They shouldn’t do that. Try to look a certain way for me. Lots of girls look like the women I’ve been out with. I don’t just grab a random one and go.”

  “No. They shouldn’t do that, but society sometimes overrides common sense. And, I’m pretty sure you’ve grabbed a random girl a time or two.”

  Well, fuck. I’m not gonna lie, but fuck. “I may have grabbed them so they could get on their knees for me, but I tried to date people with similar interests as well as body types.”

  “You know what you like. Nothing wrong with that, Knox. I was just trying to make you see why the guy outside was so surprised to see you with someone who isn’t a size zero.”

  I have to ask the question, even though I know she might punch me. “Why don’t you care about your weight?”

  “Why should I care about a number on a scale? I know I’m healthy.” Her voice is a little icy, but I’m still sitting on my chair, so I take that as a good sign.

  “But like you said, society has expectations. Does the Society share those?”

  “You don’t really need me to answer that, do you?”

  No. I don’t. I know without a doubt that Reina only cares that the women who work for her are capable of doing their jobs. Still, I’m not ready to let it go, because I just don’t understand it. Not with someone who has her background. What little I know of it doesn’t fit what I see.

  “I guess I just don’t understand. You’re a physical therapist, and you’ve obviously been a runner. Why wouldn’t you just use what you know to bring yourself down a dress size or two?”

  I just went too far, but I realize it too late. She’s already thrown her napkin on the table, and is rising from her seat. “I think I should go back to the house. I’m sure you won’t be lacking for company once I’m gone.”

  I stand with her. “Please don’t go. That was…I don’t even know what that was. I shouldn’t have said it.”

  “You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it. We just had a whole talk about your ‘type’ so it’s not like I wasn’t expecting to be let down at some point. We’ll just keep things professional from now on.”

  The waiter chooses that moment to come back to the table. He’s got my water, and her white chocolate martini. He looks between us, and I silently plead with her to sit back down. She closes her eyes, and then lowers herself into the chair, thanking him for her drink.

  “Are you ready to order?”

  “Yes, we are,” I tell him, doing anything I can to get Waverly to stay here with me.

  She looks me in the eye as she orders a variety of small plates, dim sum, and sushi. The waiter takes it all in stride, not batting an eye at all she’s ordered. “For you, sir?”

  “We’re sharing,” Waverly says before I can open my mouth.

  “Yes, we are. Thank you,” I tell him, handing him my menu.

  “Great choices,” he says with a smile for my date.

  “Thanks, it all looks so good, I couldn’t decide.”

  “You won’t be sorry.”

  And he won’t be getting a tip unless he gets his ass away from this table. “We’re pretty hungry, so if you could get that order in, I’d appreciate it.”

  Waverly kicks me under the table, and shoots me a glare once he’s gone. “Subtle.”

  “You’re my date, and he was flirting with you. He’s lucky all I did was send him away.”

  “I told you we’re keeping things professional from now on.”

  “Sharing food is pretty intimate.”

  “I only said that because I totally over-ordered, since I wanted a taste of it all. I can’t eat everything I ordered. I appreciate you going along with me, though.”

  “I’d go anywhere with you, Wave. Anywhere at all.”

  “That’s not a very professional thing to say.”

  “I never agreed to be professional. That was all you.”

  “If you can’t accept me the way I am, then we can’t be anything more.”

  I hesitate. Only for a second, but it’s a second too long. I see the shutters come down in her eyes, and her jaw clenches. I wanted to tell her it doesn’t matter what size clothes she wears. I wanted to tell her I love her curves. But like the ass I am, I hesitated. Not because I wasn’t sure, but because I was trying to make sure I got the words right, and didn’t screw up again. And now it’s too late.

  I barely notice how good all the food Waverly ordered is, because I keep mentally kicking myself for not speaking up. She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, and she won’t allow the conversation to get serious again. I want to say something to make this right, but just blurting out that I think she’s pretty much perfect isn’t going to do it right now. I need to plan this out, but I don’t even know what to plan. As much as I like her, I have to focus on training, so maybe it’s just better for me to let this go. I don’t really believe that, but I do my best to convince myself that I do, because I don’t like to lose, and I’m definitely not winning at the moment.

  6

  Waverly

  Another week has gone by of me shadowing Knox, reading his messages, and finding nothing to bring us any closer to who might want to kill him. Add in the tabloids who posted my body—with my face covered, thankfully—along with all kinds of commentary, and nights spent alone, and I’m ready for it to be over. All of it.

  On a positive note, many of the comments on my pictures were positive, although there was the obligatory fat shaming I was expecting, and not surprised by. Some people posted really nice things, and it made me happy. I really am happy with myself and my body, but that doesn’t mean I’m immune to feelings of inadequacy from time to time. Hearing men say my curves are “hot” and “sexy” isn’t bad for my ego. At all.

  The biggest negative for the week is that no late night make-out sessions in the cage daybed took place. I was the one who insisted we keep things professional in order to protect my heart, but my lips have been protesting all week. Those traitors want Knox’s kisses, just like my hands want his when we’re walking near each other. It’s taken a lot of self-control to keep me from reaching for him on the few occasions we’ve found ourselves alone together at the house. Sometimes I think he wants to reach for me, too, but I try not to think about that. I told him what I needed, and he couldn’t give it to me. End of story. Time to move on.

  It’s Saturday, which means another party is about to start. After another talk with Isa, plus a call with Matisse, I’m breaking out a bikini today. I know I look good, and anyone who doesn’t agree can just look the other way.

  “Holy Amazon, Wave. I mean, damn!” Cohen yells when I walk downstairs.

  “Um, thanks. I think.”

  “If there’s a God, there’s got to be a costume shop around here somewhere and you have to agree to dress up as Wonder Woman for me. Please, Wave. Just a look. That’s all I need.”

  “You need to get a grip. I’m the same person you’ve been with all week. I just have a bathing suit on today.”

  “That is not ‘just a bathing suit’ and if you haven’t been hit on by every man outside before the party is over, I’ll sleep alone tonight.”

  “Wow. You really think I look good. And no, I’m not taking you up on that bet. I want you to have fun.”r />
  “It’s a bet I’d have won, and you look even more spectacular than usual. If I didn’t know you like I do, I’d try to unwrap you. But since I’d like to keep my junk intact, I’ll just kiss your cheek.”

  “Think of all the girls who might want to kiss your junk better if I punch it,” I tease as I turn my cheek for his kiss.

  “I never have a problem with that,” he teases back after giving me that kiss. “In all seriousness, you are one of the hottest women here today.”

  “Thanks, Coh,” I tell him, leaning over to kiss his cheek now. His words give me the extra boost I need to show off what I’ve got.

  My lime green bikini has cups that push my breasts up and on display. Fabric crosses over my ribs to attach together in back. The bottoms have a patch of fabric along my stomach and then more fabric crossing over, leaving my hips bare. I’ve got a sheer, floral cover-up open over it, and wedged sandals on my feet. No make-up and just some oil in my hair complete my party look. And like I said, I know I look good.

  As soon as we clear the door, I spot the “present” my friend Rose emailed to tell me she was sending. She gave me no further clues, but as soon as I see race car star Ares Dixon, surrounded by more women and men than Knox, I know he’s here for me. That’s confirmed by the wide smile he gets as he walks away from his group and saunters my way.

  “You look good enough to eat,” he says, and I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes.

  The man is walking sex on legs, and he’s got more swagger than pretty much anyone I know, but that’s the problem right there. I know Ares, and I also know I’m not the Society recruit he wants. That’s Rose all the way.

  “You look pretty nice yourself, Mr. Dixon.”

  He puts his hand on my bare hip, and starts to move his thumb back and forth. Even though it’s all pretend, I should probably feel something…anything…but I don’t. I can play along, though, so I place my hand on his forearm as we smile at each other.