“Does Edison?” There. I’ve said his name out loud, put it out there for the universe to have its way with.
Aunt Ashley chokes on a laugh. “I do believe he does.” She gives my cheek a pinch. “You should see him sometime.”
“Does he want to see me?”
“He always wants to see you, Eli. We both know that.” Her expression sobers up, and her eyes sharpen over mine. “You do realize that he’s been gunning for a reunion ever since it happened. Neither of you have shared the details of your fracture with me, but I’ve surmised enough to realize this was blown way out of proportion. And then when your parents died, that balloon sailed to the sky with no hope of ever coming back.” She frowns up at me. “Is there hope now, Eli?”
“There’s hope. Is he here? In New York?” The bastard seems to have the ability to jet set whenever the heck he feels like it.
Leave it to Edison to burn through his trust fund. Be my guest. I don’t really give a crap. He’s never getting a dime out of mine.
“Funny you should ask. He was here last weekend. In fact, he asked me to give you this.” She heads to her desk and pulls a white envelope out of the top drawer. “It’s a letter, Eli. He wants you to read it. And when you do, I just know the two of you will work everything out.”
“Thank you.” I take it from her, and a mild jolt of electrocution runs through me as my fingers clasp the envelope. It’s as if the past is resurrecting itself, and I don’t like it one bit. But I pretend to.
I flash a brilliant smile at my aunt and pull her into another embrace. The smile slides right back off, and I’m glaring at the envelope in my hand.
This is all coming to an end.
Sorry, Edison. This is one head game you are going to lose.
Harley is mine. You can’t terrorize her or have her.
And if you want to speak with her in any way, you’ll have to get through me first.
And God knows you’ll never do that alive.
LIFE IN THE PITS
T he stars have aligned.
Such a strange thought to have when my life is in such turmoil. The shark I’ve unwittingly unleashed into my world has gone off the deep end. I guess his moniker should have been a harbinger to me in many ways—first and foremost, sharks do best in the deep end.
Eli and I are back at Acosta Studios. Back to the original studio where I pretended to struggle on a toilet for the better part of a day—the worst part of my life.
Today’s commercial also involves yet another sundry product. A razor to be exact, and I don’t need a road map to know where this is about to go—straight to the pits.
We head in, and there are already three different girls in hair and makeup, each one in a robe. I’m handed a bikini and told to change and head on over.
Eli leans in, his warm breath raking over my cheek. “It looks like I’ll get to watch you shave, Kitten. You want me to hang out by the door?”
“Nope. I’ll give you a hall pass for this one.” I spin around and pull him down to me by the neck. “I’m about to give you a preview of what you’re up against.”
His lips press out a dirty, barely-there grin. “You’re trying to wear me down, aren’t you?”
“Is it working?”
“I’d say you’re close.”
“Well, then”—I push him away with the tips of my fingers—“I think it’s time to move the needle another notch.”
I do a quick change into the flesh-colored bikini bottoms. I didn’t realize there was no top, but there are a couple of flesh-colored pasties.
“Great,” I mutter as I peel the adhesive off and land them over the girls. I look naked. I look worse than naked. I look like a stripper ready to make her debut.
I toss the robe on and head over to hair and makeup. The palette for my face is all nudes—I’m sensing a theme here. My hair is pulled back into a tight bun and gelled to make it look as if it were wet. I head out to where the other girls are congregating, and we exchange polite hellos.
An assistant to the director comes over and hands me a script. “You’re girl number four,” she says without so much as a smile before taking off again.
Girl number four. I peruse the script and find my line. “I love my pits?” I read it out loud with the disdain it deserves. The girl next to me chuckles.
“You think that’s bad? How about—my pits stink.”
The other girls share a warm laugh, and we do a quick line run-through. I hate my lumpy bumpy pits. My pits stink. My pits have a mind of their own. Cut to the razor magically appearing as it spins its way into my hand. I do a quick shave and finally deliver my line as I lovingly admire my shiny new pits.
The director lines us up, and we do an aggressive fifteen takes.
“I love my pits!” I beam as if both my life and my pits depended on it. At this point, my sanity clearly does. I’ll be shouting those words in my sleep. I’m pretty sure there’s a ceiling on how many times you should declare a love for those sweaty, oft ripe-scented delicate body parts. I’m betting in some countries, my cry of ecstasy would have had me legally wed to mine.
Eli waves as the director shouts, “Cut,” and gives us a quick break so he can review the footage to deem whether or not we’re dismissed.
Eli wraps his arms around me and lands a quick kiss to the tip of my nose. “You did great. Did you study method acting? Because I’m convinced your pits are about to branch out and have a career of their own.”
“Very funny. You do realize I’m all but naked.”
Eli pulls back and gives my body a quick sweep. “You do realize I’m going to jump into the Hudson River just to cool off.”
A laugh bubbles from me. “Or we can hit the shower and—”
His phone goes off, and he studies the screen for a moment. Eli glances up as if he were considering something. “Would you mind if I took this?”
“Not at all.”
The director asks us to line up once again. “The pit parade continues!” he shouts, trying to make light of the desperately stinky situation.
I offer Eli a quick peck to his cheek. He looks pale, as if standing on his feet all day to listen to me wax poetic about my armpits were making his stomach turn. And I can’t say I blame him.
“Why don’t you go downstairs and get some air? There’s a coffee shop in the lobby, and I’m dying for a real iced latte. I’ll text you when we wrap and meet you down there.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He drops another quick kiss, this time to my lips, and heads out the door.
The armpit brigade greets me with a smile.
The perky blonde lifts a brow. “Your boyfriend is hot, and you both know it.” She slaps me five.
The brunette with creamy cinnamon skin belts out a laugh. “That boy is smoking, honey! You sure you know how to handle that much muscle?”
“Only on days that end in Y.” I give a cheeky wink. There’s no way I’m admitting that Eli isn’t my boyfriend.
Honestly, what’s the definition of a boyfriend? Someone you like? Someone you hang around with all the time and would rather be with more than anyone in the world? A best friend whom you happen to enjoy kissing? Ding, ding, ding!
I do believe Eli Gates qualifies as the boyfriend in question. And the best part is, he’s all mine.
We do another quick take, and the director calls it a day.
I jump in my jeans, carefully freeing my nipples from their adhesive bondage, grab my purse, and head on down.
I’m just about to pull out my phone and text Eli when the elevator doors open and I spot his tall beefy frame in the coffee shop. He has his back turned to me as he pours creamer into his cup, but I recognize that dark wavy hair. How I can’t wait to run my fingers and my toes through it tonight. I am having my way with that boy, and I’m not giving him an option. Fine, so I’ll make sure it’s consensual—but from that point on, the night is limitless.
I bounce over and give his sides a quick squeeze. “Hey, sexy. I hear you’re l
ooking for a good time in the city.”
He spins around, nearly dumping the creamer over the front of my shirt, and I gasp.
“Oh my God!”
Standing before me is a man who can be Eli’s doppelganger, but still, definitely not Eli.
“I’m so sorry!” I cover my mouth with horror. There’s a laugh brewing in my chest, but it can’t seem to get any farther as I inspect him. His eyes widen a notch as he takes me in as if I’ve scared the living hell out of him as well. “Wow, you look just like my boyfriend. I mean, the resemblance is uncanny.” He’s got the same high cheeks, same chiseled bone structure over all, same dark wavy hair, and those marbled eyes are identical. He’s wearing gold-framed glasses, and they add a sweetness to him that gives off that hot I-study-a-little-too-much vibe.
He gives a quick chuckle as he replaces the creamer and picks up his coffee. “Your boyfriend sounds like a handsome devil.” He gives a little wink as he takes a careful sip, and it feels as if I’m losing my mind.
He looks exactly like Eli.
“I have to get your picture. Eli is never going to believe this.” I pull my phone out and jump next to him as he flashes a peace sign to the camera.
“Thank you,” I marvel as I do a quick look around. “Actually, Eli should be here any second now. If you hang out, you won’t be sorry. I think you might just be his twin!”
He grimaces as he eyes the exit. “I’d love to, but I’m running late. Besides, I don’t generally have luck with meeting a gorgeous girl’s boyfriend. Things have a tendency to go a little sideways, if you know what I mean.”
“I get it. But Eli isn’t like that at all. He’s the kindest, smartest, most compassionate person you’ll ever meet.”
His lips purse as if he didn’t care to hear how kind, smart, or compassionate my boyfriend happens to be.
“It sounds like you’re in deep.” A dark gurgle of a laugh emanates from him, and it’s almost surreal to hear it because it sounds exactly like Eli’s laugh. “I’m glad you’re happy.” He starts to take off, then backtracks. “Do you think he realizes how lucky he is?” There’s a look in his eyes as if he’s bested me just by asking the question.
“I don’t know.”
“If he doesn’t, you should dump him. He doesn’t deserve you.” He walks through the door, and I follow him out.
“Hey—I didn’t get your name! It’s not Eli, is it? I mean, that would really be beyond weird.”
He laughs at the thought, an eerie Eli laugh, and it sends a chill through me.
“It’s Edison. Good luck with that boyfriend of yours. If he’s anything like me, you’re going to need it.”
“He’s everything like you,” I mutter mostly to myself as he’s absorbed into the bobbing crowd. Before I can head back in, Eli gives a wave from my left and I’m swept off my feet momentarily as he lands a wet kiss to my neck.
“It’s safe to say you’re the best-looking girl in all of New York. And, believe me, I’ve been battling my way through that mob of flesh. I feel like I’ve seen them all.”
“You will never believe what just happened! I bumped into this guy—well, technically, I didn’t bump into him. I sort of did this to him from behind because I thought it was you.” I mimic the motion by tweaking his sides, and his brows hitch straight into his forehead. “He turned around, and he was you. I mean, basically. Same face, same hair, same body—okay, so close second. Look for yourself.” I pull my phone out and show him. “His name is Edison.”
Eli’s chest expands the width of the wall. His jaw tenses as if he were ready to jump through the screen and crush him.
“It’s uncanny, right?” I lean in close as we both admire this stranger with his face.
“He was here?” He glances back at the counter with the creamer.
“Yup. I came this close to kissing him, too.” I pull Eli in close and do my best to bat my lashes up at him. “But I’ve only got eyes for you. Did everything work out okay with your aunt?”
“Yes,” he grunts as if it didn’t.
“Good. Because I think we should head back to the room. I vote that tonight, we have dessert first.”
Eli doesn’t object. Instead, he wraps an arm tightly around me as we head out and hail a cab. Eli blows out a heavy breath as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. But not to worry. I’m going to do my best to relieve any lingering tension this boy might have.
BACK AT THE HOWARD HOTEL, I shower and change for bed, donning my favorite WB sweats and a tank top. Eli is already watching a football game recap on TV as I slide in next to him.
“You afraid of the dark, Kitten?” he asks, staring vacantly at the television set.
“Only if you’re not in it.” My hand slips under his T-shirt, and his eyes enlarge as he looks at me. A devilish smile blooms on his lips.
“Unless you’re committing to the cause, I don’t think I’ve got a pause button in me tonight.” His Adam’s apple rides up and down. “I think you’re forgetting I saw you in next to nothing today. You were asking a lot out of every man present.”
A wail of a laugh expels from me. “What exactly was I asking them? To keep it in their pants?”
“To recognize the stark reality that they will never have you.”
I bite down playfully on my lower lip. “I know you saw me in next to nothing today.” My cheeks burn with heat as I bear into those marbled eyes of his. “Would you like to see the rest of it?”
Eli purses his lips my way, his eyes never leaving mine as he gives a subtle nod. “Let’s see what you got, Kitten.”
In less than ten seconds, there’s not a shred of clothing obstructing his view. The cool air touches down over me in the most intimate of places as a chill rides through me.
“Guess what, Eli?” I ask as I lower myself over his chest. “My pause button isn’t working either.”
His jaw tenses, and his breathing grows erratic as he pulls me close. Eli lands a chaste kiss over my lips.
“Do you want this with me?” he whispers hot into my ear, and the words strum through me like an echo straight to the bone.
“Damn straight.”
A dark rumble of a laugh comes from him, and then Eli is kissing me, really kissing me as if all those other kisses we've shared were just practice. He’s on me, his hands riding up and down my body at record speed. I produce protection from my bag on the nightstand, and soon he’s on me and in me. Every last bit of unbridled desire is satiated with his every move. I let Eli do everything to me that he wants to do, and the activities are both strenuous and numerous.
We play in the dark for hours, for what feels like weeks, before we lie in one another’s arms, sweaty and exhausted beyond belief.
It’s official. We’re official. And more than that.
I’m pretty certain I’m in love with Eli Gates.
ELI
Edison Gates.
Confirmed. I knew it was you. I hit send to my brother.
I took the number from Harley’s phone because now that I’m positive he’s the lunatic behind all of this, I think it’s time he mans-ups and comes after the one he’s really gunning for.
It’s Monday, and I’m seated behind Professor Thomas as he does his best to drill the latest, greatest, business tactics into the heads pretending to pay attention. Each time I glance up, Harley is shamelessly flirting with me, licking her lips, winking hard, blowing me kisses. She’s teasing me because she knows I can’t do the same without inciting a sexual riot by every other girl in the room.
Hey, sexy. For a second, I think it’s my brother, but thankfully it’s Harley. Edison has called me many things—Sexy is not one of them. You look pretty intense. Everything okay?
It is now that I’ve got a good view of you. I load up with kissing emojis and hit send.
She texts right back. Are you free for coffee? I’ve got a long break between classes.
You bet. You and me, Hallowed Grounds. Sound good? I shoot it off to her.
&
nbsp; She texts right back. Sounds like a date.
It is, Kitten. The first of many to come. I hesitate before I hit send, but my thumb does its job, and soon Harley is beaming from ear to ear.
Something warms in me as I look at Harley. The last two days were amazing. Our bodies hit repeat so many times I was afraid I had wounded her. Loving Harley was like nothing I had ever experienced before. It made every other encounter I’ve had seem two-dimensional, unsatisfying and dirty just to think about.
What Harley and I shared was special. It was meant to be. It was mind-bending, soul-crushing, and deliciously satisfying all rolled into one. A part of me very much wishes I never had the memory of those other girls—that I would have waited for Harley. She certainly would have been worthy of waiting for. Hell, she is.
I watch as she leans back, doing her best to listen attentively, biting down over her bottom lip every now and again as if she were still trying to seduce me, and I have no doubt she is.
What Harley doesn’t realize is that she doesn’t have to try at all. Simply being in her air space is enough to get me going past the point of no return.
Last Saturday, when she was filming, I nearly dropped dead when I saw her in those barely-there bikini bottoms, her tits exposed for all to see. I wanted nothing more than to wrap myself around her, if only to keep other prying eyes away.
It’s all my fault she was there to begin with. I landed her three humiliating gigs in a row just so I wouldn’t have to suffer through seeing her kiss some jackass in Times Square wearing a lot less than that bikini bottom. I’m not sure what the lesser evil was in that situation. One thing is for sure. Once this nightmare with Edison blows over, I’m going to properly introduce Harley to my aunt. And then I’m going to make sure she gets the best bookings available, even if it means making out with some fly-by-night pop star because Harley and I are solid.
Shameless Kisses (3:AM Kisses Book 18) Page 10
