by JA Low
“She thinks he’s hot.”
“I think he’s hot. Did you not see him?” Noah adds.
Urgh. My friends suck.
“But we also know Stella. I don’t see her jumping into bed with someone like him, not after breaking up with Douchebag Dan last week.”
The swirling tension of knots that has had me crumbling since leaving my apartment slowly subsides with Noah’s words. He’s right. Stella may appreciate the man’s outside appearance, but that doesn’t mean she will fall for him, not after having her heart broken. She also told me she wanted to work on herself. That her accident has given her the time to work out what she wants, and another gym junkie is not what she wants.
But a Playboy Chef is? There’s that stupid conscience sticking its nose in where it’s not needed. She wants to fall for someone who’s her best friend. And that’s you? Shut up, conscience.
“You’re right. Stella isn’t like that.”
“If you accuse her of something with him, that’s going to ruin any chance you have of a future with her. Show her that you’re not jealous. That you trust her,” Noah adds.
“Even if I am jealous as fuck?” I ask.
“You can be as jealous as you want. Just don’t go overboard. There’s a fine line with women where jealousy is cute to where it becomes creepy,” Noah explains.
He’s right. Don’t be creepy.
“Thanks.”
“I get it. I’ve been there with Chloe. I had feelings for someone I shouldn’t. At least I was able to go home and have my space from the feelings that were consuming me. I don’t know if I could have managed having her living with me twenty-four-seven like you do.”
“You moved Chloe next door to you.”
He laughs. “Okay, like I said, the fine line between romantic gestures and creepy ones,” he tells me. “Just be patient. It hasn’t been long. You have a long way to go.” Noah’s right. I knew I should have called him first.
“Thanks, buddy, for helping me.”
“Anytime,” he states, and with his words, my problems are soothed away. “And I’ll let you know if I hear anything via the girls’ chat. Even if I’m breaking a couple of million rules, if I find something you need to know about, I’ll call you.”
See, he’s a good friend.
Speaking of good friends.
“Have you heard from Anderson?” I ask. Now, that guy has real problems.
“He sent me a text saying he found her in France. He’s trying to see her, but he’s having no luck.” That poor bastard. “He’ll sort it out,” Noah adds optimistically.
We say our goodbyes, and I walk toward my restaurant, lost in my thoughts. I’m hoping things go back to the way they were before the accident for him when he was at his happiest. We never thought Anderson would fall, let alone willingly go down the aisle, especially not a second time, but Emma changed things. Changed him. I’ve never seen him happier than before the terrible accident.
What will he do if Emma doesn’t come back to him?
I can’t imagine he’s just going to let her go like that.
Would you if the roles were reversed? There’s that voice again. Of course not. If I loved Stella as ferociously as Anderson loves Emma, then I’d never let her go. So, you don’t love her like that? My subconscious is asking me the question I don’t want to answer. The question shouldn’t be, do I love her like that? It should be, can I? Because I worry that if Stella gives me a chance, I might fuck it up. What happens if I’m this playboy monster that my friends all think I am.
I can’t fuck Stella up like that.
I can’t hurt her like that.
Then don’t, the little voice tells me.
It’s not that I would want to.
What happens if I’m not strong enough to say no to temptation?
Then you’re not worthy of her, that little voice says, and I know he’s right.
I know I’m not.
20
Stella
“Hey,” I call out, seeing EJ walk back into the apartment. He stills, surprised to see me sitting on the couch. A smile forms across his face as he moves toward me. “How did it go?” EJ walks into the kitchen and grabs himself a bottle of water and one for me too. He then joins me in the living room, where he takes a seat across from me before handing me the water bottle.
“Yeah, all good. Pierre had the steaks all taken care of,” EJ explains as he gulps water from the bottle.
“I thought it was lobsters?” My eyes narrow in on him, and my brows furrow. EJ pauses. I can see the wheels in his mind turning as he tries and remembers what lie he told me earlier.
“It was a bit of everything,” he adds.
“Bullshit,” I call him out. EJ chokes on his water at my comment. “I don’t think you went into work. For some reason, you became extremely uncomfortable when Gray arrived.”
“No, I wasn’t. I thought I would give you your space to work out, that’s all,” he explains. “How was it?” he asks while looking at me over the rim of the bottle.
“It was terrific. I’m exhausted. Who knew Pilates would be such a workout?” Groaning, I move my arms.
“The doctor suggested it would be the least impactful workout for you,” he adds.
“I can’t believe you bought all of those machines for me,” I say, looking over at him. “EJ, honestly, I don’t know how I can ever repay you for everything you’ve done for me.” I start getting a little teary over the sentiment.
“Hey.” He stands, then sits beside me, and places his hand over mine. “I don’t want to see any more tears from you, Stell,” he warns me. “You’ve shed too many in such a small amount of time. No more, please.”
“I’m so thankful for you, that’s all.” Trying to contain my emotions, I blink a few times.
“Well, then, I change my mind. If it’s all for me, then lay those tears on me,” he jokes, making me laugh. I slap his arm playfully, and my hand bounces off his hard bicep. Wow.
“Just thanks.” I knock my shoulder against his.
“Anytime, Stell.” He grins. “So, what’s the plan for today?” He changes the subject.
“Same old thing. TV, reading, and I have to catch up on some emails,” I add.
“Sounds great.” EJ picks up the remote and turns the television on. “Shall we continue where we left off?” He raises his brow in my direction.
“Sounds like a plan.” Smiling at him, we settle into another day of binge-watching television.
My first week of therapy sessions with Gray is done. I’m exhausted, but I feel a million times better, stronger both mentally and physically. Gray hasn’t stopped flirting with me all week, but he has never crossed the line. I’m enjoying his attention, but that’s all. What girl wouldn’t? Each time Gray comes over, EJ makes his excuses and heads to the restaurant to check on things. I understand his business can’t stop because I have, even though I try and catch up on emails during the day.
“What’s the plan for today?” EJ asks. The same question he does every single time he walks back into his apartment. I answer with the same response—television, reading, and work.
“Boring.” EJ rolls his eyes this time. “I think we need to get out of this apartment today.”
The excitement fills me at the thought of going somewhere outside.
“Yeah, and do what?” Honestly, I’m going stir crazy in this gilded cage. I could do with a change of scenery.
EJ rubs his hands together gleefully. “I have a perfect idea.” His face lights up. Oh no, this doesn’t sound good. “Come on, let’s go. Adventure awaits,” EJ says eagerly.
“An open-top bus tour.” I stand at the bottom of the steps of the double-decker bus. Firstly, why? And secondly, how the hell am I going to climb those tiny stairs? I don’t think EJ has thought this through.
“Yeah. When do we have time to play tourist in our own city?” He looks so excited I don’t have the heart to find faults with his plan. Just go with it, Stella.
“You’re right,” I agree with him. “Only thing is how do I get from here up to there.” Pointing to the top of the bus, I smile.
“Easy, jump on my back.” He shrugs his shoulders as if it’s no big deal, but I can’t get on his back. There are so many things wrong with the logistics, but before I can hesitate, he crouches and pats his back. “Come on, Stell.”
“EJ,” I groan.
“Nope, don’t want to hear it. Just do it.”
The bus driver takes the crutches from me with a smile, and then I do as I’m told. I jump on his back awkwardly, but EJ grabs hold of me and squeezes up the tight stairwell to the top of the bus. He then places me down at the front of the bus on the top level, which gives me a bird’s-eye view of everything. “Just got to grab something, and I’ll be back.” He grins before disappearing downstairs again.
He better not leave me here on my own.
I’ll kill him.
Thankfully, he’s back with a picnic basket and a bottle of champagne not long later. What on earth? He places the basket on the opposite seat and then pops the champagne bottle. The cork flies through the air, goodness knows where it’s ended up, then pours us both a glass.
“Cheers to new adventures.” He smiles as we clink our plastic glasses together, then he takes a seat beside me. The bus takes off, and the driver begins his spiel, but it seems like we are the only people on the tour today, which is strange because these things are always full.
“How come we’re the only people on the bus?” I whisper to EJ even though we are alone.
“Because I hired it just for us,” he whispers back. How did he do that? “I can see by that cute little frown on your face you’re wondering how I could organize something like this without your help.” He takes a sip of champagne.
“That’s exactly what I am thinking.”
“Ana organized it,” he confesses, which has us both chuckling. Ana is my assistant.
“Of course, she did.” I roll my eyes at him.
“It’s the thought that counts,” he adds. And he’s right. It is the thought that counts. We listen to the driver as he gives us the lowdown on all the sights of New York.
“If you could live anywhere in the world outside of New York, where would it be?” EJ asks as we get stuck in downtown traffic.
“Oh, good question.” Trying to think of all the places in the world that I would like to live in, I answer with, “Maybe in London.”
“Me, too.” He grins. “Sucker for the accent,” he adds.
“Hawaii would be nice, too. No snow,” I give another option. “And without the cast.” Knocking the hard plaster with my knuckles, it makes a hollow sound.
“Good point. The snow sucks.” He nods in agreement. “I wouldn’t mind sailing the Greek Islands. That looks like a gorgeous place. They all seem to live a chilled life.”
“Yes, I fell in love with Greece after I watched Mamma Mia,” I gush.
“I’ve never seen that movie,” he adds.
“Wait. You haven’t watched and sung all the Abba tunes.” He shakes his head. “That’s it. When we get home, we are putting that movie on.” Pointing my finger at him makes him smile. “What other movies have you not watched that are classics?” I ask, popping a grape into my mouth from the fruit platter.
“I don’t know.” He shrugs.
“Dirty Dancing?” He shakes his head. Oh my God, what? “Okay, that’s on the list.” He grins. “Mean Girls?” Another no. “Legally Blonde?” Again no. “Clueless?”
“I was too busy working in kitchens, I didn’t have time to watch movies all day.” He huffs, folding his arms across his chest.
“Sorry, Mr. Playboy Chef.” Nudging his shoulder in jest, I tease, “That you didn’t have time to expand your theatrical horizons.”
“Guess I’m lucky I’ve got you, then.” He bops me on the nose with his finger. “To help me expand my knowledge, I mean.”
“You do realize that if you ever suggested watching these movies as a teen to a girl, you probably would have gotten lucky,” I tease him.
“You’re saying I’m going to get lucky if I watch them tonight,” he asks flirtatiously.
“No,” I answer way too quickly.
My cheeks warm.
Must be too much champagne and sun.
“Not going to happen.”
“Oh, come on…” He nudges me back. “I have the place all to myself. No adults will be home.” He gives me a suggestive wink.
“Is that what you used to say to the girls when you were young?” I question him.
“Never had to ask.” He throws a grape into his mouth, giving me one hell of an arrogant smile.
“Is that because none were interested.”
EJ places a hand on his heart and pretends that my comment wounds him. “I’ll have you know, I was popular as fuck when I was young. You ask Chloe.” He crosses his arms over his chest confidently.
“Okay, I will.” Grabbing my phone, I call Chloe.
EJ’s eyes bug out, and he stares at me in shock that I have called his bluff.
“Oh my God, how was your workout with Gray?” This is the first thing Chloe asks when she picks up the phone.
“Oh, it was good, but that isn’t why I am calling,” I change the subject quickly. “I need you to settle an argument between EJ and me.”
“Okay, but you do realize you’re putting me in the middle, and I don’t want to be,” she adds.
“It’s nothing serious, don’t worry.”
“Well, then, shoot.”
“EJ was telling me that he was popular with the girls as a teenager, and I was calling bullshit.”
Chloe bursts out laughing. “Why do you think he became a chef.”
Knew it.
“Hey, not fair. We’re supposed to be blood,” EJ yells out to her.
“Where the hell are you guys? It sounds like you’re in traffic?” Chloe asks.
“EJ hired one of those sightseeing buses for us, so we could get out of the house,” I tell her.
There is silence on the phone for a few seconds before she says, “He did what?” She raises her voice and asks, “Is it a date?”
“What. No,” I answer quickly.
“It’s a friend date,” EJ adds.
A friend date? I shoo EJ away from the phone.
“Everything okay?” Chloe asks cautiously.
“Yes, we are cruising around town on a bus, that’s all,” I explain to her because I know her mind will be going a million miles a minute with crazy scenarios, and they all come back to EJ and I getting together. Which, let’s be serious, isn’t going to happen.
“That’s different,” she adds.
“I know. It’s been kind of fun.” Popping a truffle in my mouth, the delicious chocolate melts, and it’s so yummy.
“Interesting,” Chloe probes. “And what about Gray?” she asks.
“He’s my instructor, nothing more,” I whisper, so EJ doesn’t hear.
Chloe huffs down the line, not convinced with my answer. “A very hot instructor,” she adds.
“Stop it! Go annoy Noah,” I tell her.
“Have fun, babe, and tell my brother I said hi.” She laughs down the line.
“Will do. Talk later.” And with that, I hang up the phone.
“Happy now you have found out I wasn’t as cool as I said I was?” EJ grins.
“You’ve certainly made up for your teenage disadvantages as an adult then.” I give his shoulder a solid nudge.
“I guess,” he says quietly as the driver’s voice echoes through the speaker, explaining Little Italy’s history.
I glance over at EJ through my lashes. I think my comment might have struck a nerve.
Good one, Stell.
Put your foot right in your mouth yet again.
21
EJ
“I’m sorry, EJ.” Stella turns to me. Her hand reaches out and squeezes my leg. “I’ll stop making jokes about your reputation.” I can see her si
ncerity. It’s written all over her face.
“I know I can’t change what you’ve seen, Stell.” I give her a small smile. “Or the way it’s influenced the way you see me.” She opens her mouth to argue, but I reach out my hand and lightly tap her leg to let me finish. “But I want to show you the real me, Stell. Well, I’m trying to show you another side of me. I hope you might like this side better.”
“I don’t want you to change for me.” Her face softens, and she falls silent for a couple of moments, looking out into the busy downtown traffic. “I still fell for you even when you were enjoying your freedom,” she says ever so softly. Her honest words swirl around me before disappearing over the hum of honks and sirens. Reaching out, I take her hand and link our fingers, which makes her smile.
“I want to be better. You make me want to be a better man, Stell.” Looking down at her, my eyes fall to her lusciously, plump pink lips, which shimmer under the sunlight from her lip gloss. I watch as her cheeks begin to turn a rosy pink under my watchful stare. A strong breeze picks up a couple of her wayward strands of blonde hair and moves them across her face. I reach out and tuck them back behind her ear. Stella closes her eyes as my fingers glide across her skin. “You’re so beautiful, Stella Price.” Those Bambi-like blue eyes widen at my compliment, and my thumb caresses the apple of her cheek. “I don’t deserve a chance to be able to touch you like this.” A frown falls across her face over my words. “The moment you came into my life, I knew you were different,” I confess. “But I wasn’t ready.”
“And you think you’re ready now?” she questions me, her voice almost at a whisper.
“Maybe,” I tell her truthfully. “I know you think I never saw you over the years, Stell, but I did. So painfully much.” Those blue eyes widen at my confession. “You would never have been able to love the man I was,” I tell her. “The egotistical, arrogant, self-assured guy. The one who was prepared to do what was needed or who to make it to the top of his field. The man who chased after the accolades. The man who needed to make as much money as he could before it all disappeared.” Waving my hand in the air toward the skyscrapers in a vanishing action, I continue, “That man was a dick.”
