He smiled.
“Anyway, she told me what happened and said she felt bad you blamed yourself. I don’t know why she didn’t tell you herself, but I thought you should know.”
He patted my hand. “Thanks, Jane. I appreciate that.” His brown eyes flickered, their mahogany fire slowly dying. I pulled my hand away and he sighed, “Women like Chelsea are… special.” That was an understatement. “But they’re often temperamental and require a lot of work.”
I wanted to add, Plain Jane Johnson isn’t temperamental and doesn’t require any work. I was the queen of low maintenance. Ironically, the supermodel version of myself had already started showing signs of being high maintenance after only a few days. I was thinking of the drama I caused between Brodie and Wes. But none of that mattered now.
I raised my eyebrows, not knowing what else to say.
Wes swallowed the last of his ice water. Stared across the room at my TV. He would probably make an excuse to leave in the next two minutes.
Desperate for him to stay, I racked my brains for something to keep him here.
“Wes, can I ask you something?”
“Anything.” He set his empty glass down on the coffee table, moments away from standing and leaving forever.
“Ummm…” I wanted to ask, if he’d never met Chelsea the supermodel, would he have considered dating me? But I was too scared to find out the answer. I just couldn’t do it.
“Hold up,” Wes said, scooting forward onto the edge of the couch. “Is that what I think it is?”
“What?” I followed his gaze to my TV.
“Is that… Is that a Super Nintendo under your TV?”
“Yeah, why?” My TV stood on an old plastic milk crate. Inside the crate, was my dusty old Super Nintendo console.
“What do you mean why?” He smiled big, “Because I grew up playing Super NES, that’s why. Mario, Legend of Zelda, Super Metroid. All those games. They were a big part of my childhood.”
“Really?”
“Hell yeah. Why didn’t you tell me you had an S-NES, Jane?” He was grinning.
I giggled, “I don’t know. Do you want to play now?”
His eyes shimmered like Christmas day at a chocolate factory. I wanted to swim in those chocolate eyes of his.
“Let’s fire up this bad boy!” He stood and walked to the TV, crouching down in front. He searched through the pile of cartridges beside the console. “We gotta play Zelda. You have it, right?”
“It’s in there somewhere.” I would’ve gotten up to help look, but I was too stunned to stand up, so I picked up the remote from the couch and turned on the TV.
“Here it is.” He held up the Zelda cartridge. “You have no idea how much I love this game!” He was so damn happy, I wanted to cry. He pulled out the Super Mario Kart cartridge that was still in the machine. I’d left it there after George and I had last played. Then he powered up the machine with the Zelda cartridge inside and unwound one of the controllers. “I hope you don’t mind, but we have to play this through to the end.”
“That’ll take hours, Wes! I have to go to work tonight!” I would love nothing more than to skip work and spend hours and hours playing video games with Wes, but I really needed to keep my job.
“When do you have to be at work?”
“Five.”
“We’ve got plenty of time. If we skip all the bonus items, I bet we can finish before then.” He sat down next to me on the couch.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. “You don’t have to, Wes. You probably have something more important to do than this. And I have to work anyway, so—”
“More important than saving the princess? Are you kidding? We have to save Zelda!” The startup screen loaded and the familiar music played. “Man, there’s a real magic to these pixelated old 16 bit games that I really love.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. I really love something too… Wes was the most magical thing in the room, but I wasn’t going to say it out loud.
“We’ll share a game. Switch back and forth. Do you want to go first or should I?” Zelda was a one player game, so sharing was the only option. He offered me the controller.
“You go first.” I wanted to see if he knew what he was doing or if all this was some crazy dream. I couldn’t believe Wes actually knew how to play Zelda. Or any video game. He didn’t seem like the type, but what did I know?
He clutched the controller in both hands as the introduction finished. “All right, here goes nothing.”
The second he started playing and was focused on the game, I stuffed my brass ring between the couch cushions behind me. I knew it would be safe there for now.
And I was wrong about Wes.
He was a pro at 16 bit Zelda.
Chapter 29
Three hours later, I gasped. “Shit! I’m going to be late for work!”
“But we’re almost finished!”
Wes and I had been laughing and giggling and sitting shoulder to shoulder playing Zelda the entire time. While one of us was on the controller navigating Link through the dungeons, the other would get up as needed to get more water or snacks or go to the bathroom. An empty bag of Fritos corn chips lay on the coffee table in front of us. Next to it were the two empty plates I’d used for the cheese sandwiches I’d made for us an hour ago. It felt sort of like a date but not a date. I couldn’t decide which because I wasn’t supermodel Chelsea, I was just plain old me. Either way, Wes and I were having plenty of fun.
“Wes, I really have to shower and change for work.”
“Okay, you shower. I’ll keep playing.”
“Okay, okay!” Giggling, I ran into my bedroom and grabbed clothes for work before jumping in the shower. I still couldn’t believe Wes was actually in my living room playing my Super NES. I also didn’t believe he would still be there when I finished in the bathroom. When I came out, he’d be gone because all of this had to be a dream.
But it wasn’t.
When I emerged from my bathroom in my blouse and work slacks, he was busy playing, his eyes glued to the TV. I wasn’t wearing my work vest because I was embarrassed to wear it in front of him. There was nothing sexy or glamorous about a blue canvas 95 Cent Store vest, night manager or no night manager.
“You look nice,” he smiled, glancing away from the game for a few seconds to really look at me.
I smiled back. “Thanks.”
He was just being nice. I knew this moment we were having was a one time thing, much like that first day we’d met at his grandmother’s mansion. After he left tonight, I would have to be content with the memory of this moment. I was okay with that. Unlike most relationships, memories lasted forever.
The beeps and boops of the game resumed. Wes’ eyes were back on the TV.
I sighed, “Are you still playing?”
“Of course I am. Do you want to pause this for now? We can finish it later if you leave the machine on.”
“Oh, we don’t have to.”
“You sure? We spent three hours on it. I’d hate for that to go to waste.”
“Maybe?” What was I doing? Why was I turning down a second Nintendo date with Wes when he was offering? This was the greatest day in the history of my life! I couldn’t say no!
Wes was now fully absorbed in the game.
He was so incredibly handsome.
And I was the opposite.
I sighed softly.
I was old enough to know Wes and I could never be anything more than friends. Even if I had him over for marathon Nintendo sessions from here until eternity, I knew he would never look at me like he had looked at supermodel me. We would always just be friends.
Did I want to put myself through that? No. I knew better. I knew if did, it would eventually drive me crazy. The reality was that I’d never have Wes.
I said softly, “Maybe some other time.” Maybe as in never.
“Huh? Sorry. I got distracted by the game.”
I cleared my throat, fighting back tears. “I said, m
aybe we can play again… some other time.” My words turned to mumbles toward the end.
His smile slowly sagged. He got the message. “Yeah, sure.” He set the controller down absently, without bothering to pause the game, and stood up slowly, his sudden discomfort filling the room. He held his hand out to shake.
See?
A handshake.
He didn’t try for the kiss.
I reached forward to shake his hand, but to my surprise, Wes opened his arms at the last second and came in for a hug. He bent down and squeezed me hard and rubbed my back vigorously. “I had a blast, Jane. We’ll do this again.” He sounded reserved and a little bit guarded.
“Yeah,” I said, all choked up, drowning in impending disappointment.
Did he mean it or was he just being polite?
I didn’t want to know.
No, I knew.
I showed him out as quick as I could.
After closing my front door, I waited while his footsteps faded on the balcony outside, and I waited until the front gate banged shut.
Then I started crying.
Not sobbing.
Just quiet crying.
Good thing I wasn’t wearing any makeup. After a few minutes on the couch with a box of tissues, I realized I was going to be late for work if I didn’t get a move on. I’d only been back on the job for a week and I didn’t want to give Doug or anybody at corporate a reason to doubt me.
I needed my job.
I put on my blue work vest and pocketed my phone before heading toward my front door. I couldn’t bear to turn the TV and Zelda off just yet, so I left everything on. When I grabbed the doorknob, I stopped cold, staring at the corner of the couch where I’d shoved the brass ring earlier.
Like a desperate madwoman (or relapsing addict), I started tearing cushions off the couch. The ring was gone! It wasn’t where I’d stuffed it! I started to panic and tore off the rest of the cushions, but I couldn’t find it! Shit! I shook with fear and felt the powerful urge to vomit. I needed to find that ring! I would die without that ring! My life would be over if I didn’t find that stupid fucking ring!!!
A dark hole in the corner seam of the couch caught my eye. Had the ring fallen in there? I grabbed the edge of it and tore the fabric back without a second thought. When the hole was big enough, I jammed my hand inside and felt around.
No!
The ring wasn’t inside either!
It had disappeared!
I yanked my hand out and leaned under the couch, but all I saw was carpet. I felt around just in case it was lost in the pile, but there was nothing there!
Starting to cry, I stood up and jammed my hand back inside the couch like a deranged heroin junkie, going all the way up to my elbow, my palm slapping around at the fabric bottom inside the couch as I literally frothed at the mouth. My spittle flew everywhere as I grunted like a lunatic.
“Where did you go, you scummy motherfucker?! If you’re not here, I’m going to kill somebody! Kill everybody! Aaaaaahhh!!!”
I growled like a rabid dog.
My arm flailed inside the couch, now up to my shoulder. I was either going to die or go insane if the ring wasn’t in my God damned couch!!
My fingers closed around it.
The world ground to a halt.
The ring was now cool to the touch, having been here for hours. I pulled it out and held it close to my face. It glimmered in the flickering light of the TV.
Breathing hard from my exertion, I cried silently as I examined it. My glasses had nearly fallen off from all my flailing around, so I pushed them up my sweaty nose and gazed upon perfection.
The ring.
The ring.
I held it over my little finger, poised to slide it on.
What was it about the word poised that reminded me so much of poison?
Was this a bad idea?
No! It’s the best idea ever!
Would this ring really poison me? Or give me cancer? Or just poison my heart and soul to the core?
No! Never! It’ll make me happy! Happy happy happy!!!
Would I become addicted to being beautiful if I put it back on, never satisfied unless I was a youthful supermodel?
No! It’s perfection! It’s everything I ever wanted!
If I put it on and kept it on day after day, would my incredible beauty last forever, or would it fade a few years from now, leaving me a disappointed heartbroken wreck, abandoned by whoever had known me and wanted me when I was beautiful?
Or would the ring simply malfunction halfway through my swansformation and leave me deformed forever?
Deformed.
Deformed…
I shuddered.
No! It’ll work! It WILL work!!!
With shaky hands, I slowly slid the ring on my finger before running out the door, already late for work.
One way or the other, I’d find out in a matter of days.
<<<<<<<>>>>>>>
To be continued in:
If I Were Beautiful
Book 2
Coming April 2017
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====== Wes or Brodie =====
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They called him Connor HUGE.
COVER MODEL
Devon’s #1 Bestselling romantic comedy
A Steamy Standalone
BY DEVON HARTFORD
Connor Hughes f**ked his way through every girl in my high school.
Except me.
We hated each other.
That arrogant a**hole insulted me, tormented me, and ruined me without ever laying a finger on me.
After graduating near the top of my class, I escaped to UCLA, got my degree, and threw myself into a career as a serious journalist. But I never forgot the damage Connor did.
At least I’ll never have to see him again.
Until my editor at Trending Magazine tasks me with writing a tell-all article about Connor. Turns out my insufferable bad boy nemesis grew into the ultra-gorgeous model whose perfect body steams up the covers of half the romance novels on the bestseller lists.
Now I’m stuck shadowing him all weekend long at the world’s largest Romance Convention. I’m forced to watch in disgust as 45,000 women throw themselves at him and worship his shirtless body while he taunts me incessantly.
We hate each other as much today as we did seven years ago. But I can’t stop stealing glances at his perfect abs and perfect a**.
My better judgment tells me to drop everything and run, but something deep inside me is dying to know if he’s as HUGE as the rumors…
***Cover Model is a steamy standalone with an HEA***
PROLOGUE
ELECTRA
GRAD NIGHT, 2008.
“Not on your life,” I chuckle, staring into the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever hated.
I stand toe to toe with Connor Hughes, the gorgeous young man I hate more than any other human being on the planet.
“You totally want me.” He flashes his insolent grin, the one
that makes all the girls in school drool over him and write his name in their notebooks and stalk his Facebook page in hopes that he’ll mention them. “You’ve always wanted me.”
My anger rises and I snort, “I’ve never wanted you. Connor.” I spit out his name like it’s filthy. “You must think I’m pretty stupid if you think I’m going to let myself become yet another notch on your bedpost.”
In the distance, a flickering rainbow of lights beam from the grad night carnival set up behind our high school. All that frolic and fun seems a million miles away.
Ten hours ago, Connor and I walked separately across the stage in the North Valley High School gymnasium and got our diplomas from the principal. When Connor got his, he took a bow to an uproar of cheers and applause. Everybody loves Connor Hughes. Except me. When I took my diploma, nobody made a sound, not even the crickets.
Now it’s four in the morning and I’m all alone with Connor under the starry night sky.
I fold my arms defensively across my chest and growl in his arrogant and undeniably handsome face. “The only reason you want me is because you never had me, Connor. We both know that if I was dumb enough to have sex with you, you’d get what you’ve wanted all along, and you’d move on. Just like you did with every other unsuspecting girl you’ve fucked. Tell me I’m wrong.”
He opens his mouth to speak. A strained half syllable wheezes out but catches in his throat. “I—” He deflates, his muscled shoulders sagging.
“That’s what I thought,” I smirk. “I’m just another notch for you. But I’ve got news for you, Connor Screws. You will never catch me. I will always get away. After everything that you’ve done, I will never be one of your notches.”
If I Were Beautiful (If I Were... #1) Page 26
