Love or Lust 2
Page 8
“Hey.” My voice is flat, void of all emotion. There’s no hiding this from her, so why bother trying.
“You sound thrilled to hear from me,” she jokes, chuckling into the phone. “What happened? Jace’s cock not live up to expectations?”
Ugh.
“I wish that were the problem,” I note, filling a pot with water before placing it on the burner.
“So does he not know how to use it, then?”
“I have no idea, Naomi. This isn’t about him.”
Lie number one. Good job, Presley.
“Let me guess,” she starts. I hear her crunching on the other end of the line and can almost picture her on her couch, shoving lime-flavored tortilla chips in her mouth after scooping up enough salsa the chip threatens to crack under the weight. “Wren’s being a dick again.”
Knowing I’m going to have to tell her everything to get her to understand where I’m at mentally right now, I start from the beginning. Lennon making it clear he wasn’t going to give up. Choosing Jace. Wren’s constant texts that I refused to read. Making out with Jace at the pool. Then, finally, the text Jace sent to Wren last night.
I read it to her verbatim to ensure I didn’t screw it up.
“What does it all mean, Naomi?”
“What do you think it means? You know him better than I do.”
“That’s just it. I don’t know.”
“Do you really think he’d write that to Wren just to piss him off? Or do you think he’s actually falling in love with you?” When I don’t reply, she continues, “You know he meant it, Presley. You chose him. You made it clear you were willing to give up the game as long as you still had him. Today. Tomorrow. Next week. Did you ever think that he was willing to do the same?”
“What if this is part of the game? What if he’s just playing along to get to the end?”
“Then I’ll have to cut his balls off.”
There’s not even a hint of humor in her voice. Do I believe she’d do it? No, but she’s not above threatening physical harm to get her point across.
“Listen to me and not the voices in your head for once, Presley. This guy likes you, a lot. He may even be falling in love with you. How he feels has no bearing on how you feel. Ask yourself this . . . Do you see yourself falling in love with him? Can you see yourself continuing a relationship with him after this is over? Do you light up when he walks in a room? Do you look for him wherever you turn?”
I want to scream yes over and over again, but I don’t need to. She already knows the answer to her questions.
“Think about this. You can’t deny how you feel about him any more than you can admit how you feel. Both are too hard. Both make you vulnerable of getting hurt.”
“So, what do I do?” I ask, cutting her off before she can say more. Her words are hitting deep, causing my stomach to turn.
“Ride it out. Let whatever is going to happen, happen. Stop trying to play a game you can’t win and just be you. Take a breath, let it out, repeat. Everything is going to work out the way it’s supposed to as long as you don’t try and control every aspect of the process.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“Right. Because I’ve always been so successful in relationships. You do realize that I’ve had one serious relationship since we’ve met, and you know how that ended. Now, I’m trying to go with the flow and just let life happen. You know what? It’s great. I have no idea what’s going to happen, but that’s okay. I’m having fun right now, and I’m living for the moment.
“If you knew you were going to get your heart broken again, you wouldn’t even try. Or you’d try and fix things before they went bad. Then what? You’d spend all your time on edge, fixing issue after issue. That’s not living. That’s not the kind of relationship you want to be in. Just . . . let it happen,” she says with an exasperated breath.
It scares me how well she knows me sometimes. I’m a planner. A fixer. A problem solver. I always have been, and maybe those are things I need to let go of when it comes to a relationship. I certainly can’t control what’s going to happen, I can’t predict what’s around the next turn, and even if I could, I’m not sure I’d want to. Part of the fun of finding someone to spend your life with is the unpredictability of it all. The excitement of something new.
I’m putting the lasagna in the oven when Jace knocks on my door, letting himself in. He has a bottle of white wine in his left hand and a bouquet of freshly picked flowers in his right.
“For you,” he says, handing them to me as he leans down, gently placing a kiss on my cheek.
“I’m supposed to be wining and dining you tonight, not the other way around,” I say as I turn to find a vase to put the flowers in. They smell amazing.
“Can’t let you have all the fun,” he whispers in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
Wrapping his arms around my waist, Jace kisses a path from my ear to my collarbone.
Getting lost in the moment, I close my eyes and lean back against his firm body. As he holds me tightly, we stand like that for a few minutes before he releases me, taking the vase from my hands and then filling it with water.
While we wait for dinner to finish cooking, Jace helps me set the bar top with place settings. I’m listening to him tell me about his morning with the guys at the pool, but my focus is still on the text from last night.
“Can I ask you something?” I interrupt, not wanting to lose the nerve to ask him. When he nods, I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
“Presley.” He reaches his hand toward me, but I can’t bring myself to place my palm in his. “What’s wrong? I’ve never seen you so hesitant.”
“Did you mean it?” I finally ask, my voice barely above a whisper as I look down at my feet.
“Did I mean what?”
“The text.”
“Yes. All of it. I meant every word.”
Jace’s shoes appear in my line of vision, and then he slowly lifts my chin.
“Every. Single. Word.” Each word is punctuated with a kiss.
“You can’t. It’s too soon, right?”
“To start falling in love with you? No. I’m pretty sure I’ve been looking for you my entire life, Presley. I’m just glad I finally found you.”
“But we barely know each other,” I protest.
“You’re right. I have no idea what you like on your pizza. Or if you’re a bad driver. I don’t know what you’re like when you’re angry or what sets you off. What I do know is that you have a huge heart. You treat people with respect even when they don’t deserve it. You give everyone a chance before writing them off. And when you smile, you light up an entire room.
“There’s a lot we don’t know about each other, and that’s okay. There’s still time. That doesn’t mean that I can’t love the person I’ve gotten to know. That I won’t love the rest of you when you finally let me in. Because as far as I can tell, Presley, the important things about a person are not the things they tell you about themselves with words. It’s their actions that speak to the kind of person they are.”
Staring up into Jace’s eyes, the words are on the tip of my tongue when the timer on the oven goes off, ruining the moment. Still, neither of us moves. Neither of us looks away. It’s not until I smell the garlic toast burning that I spring into action.
It’s too late to save the bread, though.
“I’m sorry if I freaked you out,” Jace says after we’re seated.
“It’s not that. I just . . .”
What, Presley? You just want to be able to say it back and are scared shitless.
You chose him!
Over Lennon. Over the other guys.
You want to be with him. Only him. Today and next week. After the game is over.
When you step back into the real world, you want him by your side. You want to make this work.
Yet you can’t even be honest with him about why you’re freaking out.
“You don’t have to exp
lain. I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you, because I’m not. That’s the last thing I want to do, but that also doesn’t mean I didn’t mean what I wrote. I meant every word. And yes, maybe it is a little too soon, a little fast. There are a lot of things we don’t know about each other, things I still want to tell you about me that I haven’t told anyone here. Things that I’ve kept a secret for a reason. And I plan to tell you, but there are only so many places the cameras aren’t and to be honest, this isn’t a conversation I want to have in the bathroom.”
I want to laugh, but he has a point. The only place there isn’t a camera pointed at us would be in the bathroom, and it doesn’t seem right to have such an important conversation next to the toilet.
“I’m glad you meant it,” I start, taking a small bite of the lasagna. To my surprise, it turned out better than I expected. “Also, I forgot to thank you for texting him. He’s left me alone since then. I’m hoping that means he got the message that I don’t want anything to do with him anymore.”
The words no sooner cross my lips than my phone vibrates on the counter next to me. Afraid I jinxed myself, I ignore it, thankful it’s facedown.
After it vibrates again, Jace points at my phone with the tines of his fork. “You should get that.”
“I’d rather not ruin dinner,” I mutter, pushing it further away.
“You never know, it might be a text you want to get.”
The devilish grin plastered on his face has me swooning in my seat until I realize what his words mean. Flipping my phone over, I’m greeted with a waiting text from Jace himself.
JACE: Sneak out the bathroom window later and meet me in the stables.
“How’d you do that?” I ask, wondering out loud how he sent me a text when I haven’t even seen his phone in his hand all night.
“I may have planned a few things before coming over here.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, smirking at him before reaching out and taking his free hand in mine. “What kind of things?”
“You know what you have to do if you want to find out.”
ME: One hour. I’ll be there.
I hit send and stare up into Jace’s smiling eyes wondering what he’s up to. Whatever it is, I have a feeling I’m going to like it.
Chapter Ten
Day 25
My eyes sting when I finally pull myself out of bed at noon. Jace and I didn’t get back to the ranch until just as the sun started to rise this morning. Then, after helping me sneak back into my villa through the bathroom window, Jace followed me.
My lips were already chapped and puffy from making out all night. Not that I was about to tell him to stop. I could kiss him all day every day and never tire of the way his lips feel against mine.
His kisses had a way of making the world around us disappear. There was no stupid TV show. No cameras. No ex-boyfriend. Nothing mattered except the tiny bubble we were in.
Jace had truly planned everything to a T. He brought a blanket for us to sit on, one to wrap up in if it got too cold, wine, and snacks. We were able to sneak off the ranch undetected as far as we know. We only took one horse and made it down to the creek in record time.
For the first hour, things were pretty tame. We listened to the creek gently lap against the rocks as we stared up at the stars. Talked about our life outside the confines of the show. Got to know each other a little better. It wasn’t until Jace’s voice turned serious that I realized he was about to drop a bomb on me that I wasn’t prepared for.
I cut him off.
Well, my lips did.
I rolled on top of him and kept him from telling me whatever he was planning on. He didn’t fight me either. He let me have control over the situation, over the kiss.
Not for long, but long enough for me to feel comfortable.
No one was around. It was the first time we felt truly alone. That we had privacy.
Which also meant all bets were off.
I didn’t try and stop him when he lifted my shirt over my head, tossing it aside as his lips explored uncharted territory.
He didn’t stop me when I reached for the button of his jeans after removing his shirt.
In less than five minutes, we were both breathless and practically naked. I’d lost everything but my black thong and matching lace bra, a set I’d picked out for tonight just in case. Jace was only in his boxer briefs, a look I was beginning to appreciate more and more.
He asked me what I wanted, if I wanted to stop.
Knowing my words would only get jumbled, I shook my head, reached around, and undid the clasp of my bra. His eyes never left mine as it fell from my body, landing on the blanket between us.
The next few hours went by in slow motion. Jace’s body against mine, consuming me. Stealing my pleasure. Over and over again until I felt like I couldn’t go on.
He took that as a challenge and rose to the occasion.
Mind-blowing is the only way I can describe last night.
My body is sore and exhausted, but I can’t stop smiling. Especially when my phone vibrates on the nightstand.
JACE: Good morning, beautiful.
ME: It’s afternoon.
JACE: But it was a good morning, right?
ME: A very good morning.
JACE: I can come over and we can have a repeat if you want. I’m free until five o’clock.
ME: I don’t think anything will ever compare to last night. It was perfect.
JACE: Is that another challenge?
ME: Not at all. A simple fact. And yes, I’d love to see you before dinner tonight. How about we hang out in the hot tub, though. My body is a little sore.
JACE: Only a little? It sounds like I didn’t do my job well enough.
ME: Ha ha. Hot tub? Twenty minutes?
JACE: I’ll be waiting. {kissing face emoji}
I touch my lips as if he’d actually blown me a kiss. My perma-smile is still in place and my lips are sensitive to the touch. Another amazing side effect of being with Jace.
Rushing around to find a swimsuit and make myself presentable, I’m not surprised to find Jace waiting for me when I finally make it to the pool area. The girls are all lounging on the deck, soaking up the sun, while the guys are nowhere to be seen. Though I can hear them in the distance, shouting at each other.
“Hello, beautiful,” Jace greets me, taking my hand and helping me in the warm tub. The jets are already on, and as soon as I sink in the seat, I let out a little sigh. “That good?”
“Yes. Everything hurts but in a good way,” I say, closing my eyes and letting the pressure of the jets ease the ache in my muscles. “So, about—”
I cut myself off when I notice a cameraman standing behind Jace, the lens pointed directly at me. The last thing I want to do is give the world something to talk about, especially my sex life. Or to give Wren a reason to start texting me again. It’s only been two days, but I have high hopes Jace put a stop to his persistent and annoying communication.
Will he be there when I get back home? Probably.
I won’t be able to hide from him then, but for now, I’ll take the much-needed break.
“We can talk about it later,” Jace states, sliding into the seat across from me.
Neither of us says anything else as we sit and soak. My eyes are closed, and I’m enjoying the pressure from the jet at the base of my back when I feel something brush against my foot. Opening my eyes, I watch as Jace lifts my right foot out of the water and begins massaging. The cameraman is nowhere in sight, and I’m grateful the second Jace reaches my arch and I let out a moan.
“Keep doing that and I’m going to rub more than just your feet, Presley,” Jace warns, his voice filled with promise.
After spending ten minutes on my right foot, he repeats the process on my left. I do the best I can to keep my noises to a minimum, but by the time he’s finished, I’m so turned on I’m ready to strip him right here and now.
Damn the cameras.
Damn the girls who are st
ill lounging across the pool.
Damn this stupid game.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he says as he lifts himself onto the edge of the hot tub before walking over to grab a towel.
I’m unable to avert my eyes as water drips from his firm body. A body I know better today than I did yesterday. A body that, when wrapped around me, makes me feel safe. When pressed against mine causes a fire to burn deep inside.
A fire I don’t want to extinguish. If anything, I want to stoke the flames and see how hot I can make it.
If last night was any indication, we could ignite an inferno and I’d still beg for more. More of him. More time alone. More of everything.
After wrapping a towel around his waist and securing it, Jace moves behind the bar and begins mixing both of us a drink. When he returns to the hot tub, he sits on the edge next to me, his feet dangling in the water, and hands me an electric-green drink that fades to more of a lime color the closer you get to the top of the glass. His is red and fades to pink. Both are bubbly, and I’m not sure if there’s alcohol in them or not, but if I had to guess, there is.
“What’s this?” I ask, hesitant to take a sip.
“Do you like green apple?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you’ll love this. I’ve been soaking vodka in Jolly Ranchers for a few days. It infuses the flavor of the Jolly Rancher into the vodka and then you mix it with lemon-lime soda.”
Taking a tentative sip, I’m surprised how much I like it. You can really taste the Jolly Rancher, but it still has a kick from the amount of vodka he put in there. “It’s great,” I say, setting my drink aside.
This is the kind of drink that could get me in trouble. It goes down easy, and if I drink too much too fast, I’ll be drunk before I start cooking for Drake tonight. I’m already not that great. Being intoxicated won’t help my case, and he’s expecting to be fed.
Jace offered to make me another drink an hour later when I finally took the last sip, but I declined. I needed to get cleaned up for tonight and start prepping for what should be the easiest dinner I have to make this week.