Chapter Two
Home smells like home. That scent that always lingers no matter what, the same one that comforts you.
I leave my suitcases strewn in the hallway and collapse onto my bed upstairs. It’s soft and familiar. More comforting than the warm, fruity smell of home. I reach into the drawer of the nightstand and pull out some matches. Lighting one, I lower the flame to the wick of my bright pink Yankee candle, letting the strong Dragon Fruit scent assault my senses almost immediately.
Goddamn, I love these candles.
I close my eyes for a long moment. Now I need to get changed. As much as I don’t want to, these sweatpants aren’t going to cut it much longer. They’re two days old, after all.
I strip and throw all my clothes into the laundry hamper. My drawers are half empty, but I find a pair of pajama pants and a tank.
This house feels huge after a month of living in what were essentially apartments. And kind of lonely too. Like someone should be walking around the corner and knocking into me or sitting on the sofa, in the kitchen, or in the bathroom. And only pulling one mug from the cupboard and placing it under the coffee machine feels alien. So does not hearing creaking floorboards just before it’s stolen from me.
I swallow and put the mug down. Seven days, Dayton. One week. Time to get your shit together.
I survived it once. I can do it again—if only because I’ve done it before. Because I know I can. Because I have to.
Because I’m stronger than to let love be the death of me.
My cheeks sting as my palms connect with them sharply. It’s cheek slapping or head knocking, and the closest thing I have to hit myself with is a saucepan. I’ll pass that one up, thanks.
A loud ding-dong echoes through the door followed by the sound of it opening. Monique. Not even Liv walks in. I turn around and brace myself for the first conversation with her in days.
She stops in the doorway, her waist accentuated by her tailored blazer, and runs her eyes over me. “You look like f*cking shit.”
“Nice to see you, too, Monique. So kind of you to drop by without calling.”
“Leigh called. You think I was gonna let you run away before I could talk to you?”
“A chance would have been nice.” I smile tightly and perch on a stool at the breakfast bar. “What do you want?”
“Any coffee left in there?” She nods to the machine and pours one before I can answer. Typical Monique. Why wait for an answer when you can just find out yourself?
I roll my eyes as she sits down and sips casually at her coffee. F*ck her and her games.
“What do you want, Monique? You’re not my favorite person right now if you hadn’t guessed.”
She sighs heavily and sets the mug down. “I came to apologize.”
“Does Darren need a new car again?”
“Not this time.” She smirks, but it drops quickly. “I should have told you before you left.”
“So why didn’t you?” I hold up a finger at the opening of her mouth. “And f*ck your ‘client confidentiality’ bullshit. I’m not interested in that. The truth, Mon.”
Her tongue wets her lips, and she stares at me.
“Do I need to find a new agent? One who won’t keep important information from me?”
She laughs. “Well played, Dayton. We both know you won’t find another agent, but well played all the same. All right. You wanna know?”
“No, I’m asking for shits and giggles.”
“He paid extra if I didn’t tell you. That’s why the money was wired through me and not into your account.”
I get up and cross my kitchen. I grip the counter, facing away from her, and close my eyes. He wanted to keep it from me that badly that he paid her off? What the f*ck is that?
He must have really thought I’d never find out.
“How much?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
“How much?”
She sighs again. “Five grand.”
“Shit!” Five f*cking grand for her not to tell me? I don’t believe it. I don’t believe him. I don’t believe her! “Why did you take it?” I turn, and she blinks harshly. Monique never loses her composure or acknowledges our emotions, so I know she can really see how pissed off I am.
“Money,” is all she says.
“And that’s more important than my wellbeing?”
“You f*ck guys for a living, Dayton. I make sure they’re legit. That’s looking after your wellbeing.”
“And for big jobs, important clients, you’re supposed to make sure there are no f*cking skeletons hiding in fancy-ass, designer-clothing-lined closets.”
“Everyone has skeletons, Dayton. Even you and I.”
“This is a skeleton I should have known about. I can’t forgive you for not telling me. Not yet.” I point to the door. “You know the way out.”
“You’re the only person I take this shit from, y’know?” She stands.
“Good. I would hope you don’t give the other girls the shit you give me.”
“Touché.” My agent inclines her head in my direction and makes for the door.
“Monique?”
She pauses at her name and looks over her shoulder.
“Call me when you have a job for me. But I’m not f*cking anyone yet. Escorting only.”
“You’re coming back to work?”
My lips curve to one side. “Someone has to pay for your crap.”
“Just answer the f*cking phone this time, all right?”
She leaves, and I lean back against the counter again.
Five grand to keep a secret.
I shouldn’t be surprised. He paid enough to keep me. It’s just a f*cking shame it wasn’t quite enough to keep me there.
Money can keep something, but it can’t guarantee it. You’d think he’d know that. He has enough to throw around.
***
I need some control back in my life.
That’s my problem. Since Aaron came back into my life, it’s spiraled so crazily out of control that I can barely put my panties on the right way. Now, with the last few weeks all said and done, I can untangle them and get back to my life.
The way it should be. Focused. Controlled. Planned.
I ignore the niggling empty feeling in the pit of my stomach as I roll my stockings up my legs, the lace tops hiding just beneath the hem of my dress. Six knocks drift up the stairs to me in Liv’s signature knock. Tap tap. Tap tap. Tap tap. The sound is followed by her opening the door and yelling up at me.
It’s not my preferred method of control, admittedly, but when your best friend insists that a night out will cure your blues, you go along with it. Well, you do if your best friend is like mine.
It’s easier to do what she wants and save myself the headache.
Liv stops in the doorway and runs her blue-green eyes over my body. I pause, my fingers still looped under the lace on my thigh, and raise my eyebrows at her.
“That dress is too long.”
“Excuse me?”
She rolls her eyes like I’m a petulant toddler. “The dress. It’s too long.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my dress.” I smooth it over my legs. “Less is more, you know.”
“More material won’t get you laid, you know.”
I stand and grab my lipstick. “I’m not trying to get laid, Liv. I’m trying to get over him.”
“And getting under someone is the best way to get over someone else.”
“Did your mind get swapped with a teen boy at some stage of your life?”
She smacks her pink lips together and grins. “No. While you were f*cking for work, I was f*cking for fun. I learned more than a few things after I broke up with Ross.”
Ah, the boyfriend she only kept around for his finesse in the bedroom.
“I’m sure I’m aware of all the things you’ve learned.” My tone is dry, and I drop the lipstick into my makeup bag. “Look, I just want to relax tonight. No guys, no getting laid, nothing.”
“Fine. But you’re missing out.”
“I’m sure.” I grab my bag and follow her out to the waiting cab. Liv directs him to the wine bar where she works, our usual first stop, and settles back in the seat.
Night is falling as we head into the center of the city, and the bright lights from the skyline drown it out. A golden tone climbs into the inky blue, both colors fighting in the sky for their space. They collide in a gorgeous pinky-purple band that stretches out before me, providing an illuminating backdrop for the buildings that reach high up.
I wriggle my toes inside my shoes. I want to go home, change into some pajamas, and eat ice cream. Even if my ass is feeling the numerous tubs over the last week or so.
No, I tell myself. I’m not doing that anymore—being a whiny teenage girl over something she couldn’t help. Something she couldn’t stop. I’m going to be the strong, independent woman I am.
After all, a man can’t make me, so there’s no reason to let him break me either.
Mental pep talk done, I follow Liv into the bar and to our usual table by the window. It provides the perfect spot for people-watching, something I’ve found myself doing a lot since we went to Italy, and it gives Liv the perfect view of the door just in case a hot guy should walk through.
Our friendship is kind of skewed, I’m realizing.
One bottle of wine appears on the table in front of us. “A bottle? Big spender tonight?” I tease her, grabbing it and pouring two glasses.
“Ha! As if.” She grins and nods her head behind me. “Nope. The two guys in the suits bought it for us.”
Of course. Only my best friend could walk in somewhere and get the first drinks bought for us.
I glance at her chest. The girls are definitely out to play tonight. “I wonder why.”
Her smile widens. “Hey, if they get us free drinks, are you going to complain?”
I want to remind her that I can buy my own drinks, but even that reminds me of Aaron. F*cking hell. Is there anything that won’t?
“I have a job this weekend.”
“Hmm? Where to?”
Liv chews on the inside of her lip and hides behind her wine glass. “I didn’t want to tell you before, but I took your advice. I went to the Stone agency.”
“Why wouldn’t you tell me? Regardless of the a*shole level of the guy in charge, they’re still an incredible agency. Are you signed with them?”
“Not yet. This weekend is a kind of trial, too. If the pictures come back okay, they’ll be drawing up a contract next week.”
“I’m happy for you.” I grab her hand across the table. “Really, I am.”
Apparently even now my best friend will remind me of him. Maybe I should move to Australia.
“I thought it would be kind of awkward.”
I force a laugh. “No. What happened with us happened. One of those things.”
She arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Right. We can go with that.”
“I was planning on doing so.” I sigh into my glass. “Can we stop talking about him now, please? I’m done moping over him.”
Liv stands and grabs my hand. “Let’s finish this then find somewhere we can go dance. And with any luck, there’ll be some hot guys to look at.”
She has a one-track mind.
***
“My feet hurt,” I whine, sitting on a stool. I pull my shoe off and rub the ball of my foot with my thumb. Two hours of nearly solid dancing has just about killed me.
“Wine?”
“The drink or the action?” I mumble. “If I can, both.”
Liv laughs and leans over the bar. She gives her eyelashes a quick flutter, squeezes her boobs together, and grabs the attention of the bar guy right away. I’d roll my eyes if I weren’t so used to it.
Two glasses of wine appear in front of us. I pull out the money, but a hand rests on my forearm. “Let me get those for you,” a deep voice says into my ear.
I turn to face the guy offering with a polite smile. “Thank you, but no thank you. I owe her a round.” I’m done having drinks bought for me.
“Really, let me get it for you.”
“That’s very kind of you, but no, thank you.” My voice firms toward the end. I don’t give a crap if he’s good-looking and has that rugged thing going on that melts panties. My panties aren’t melting, and I’m buying my own drink.
He opens his mouth to speak, but he’s interrupted by another voice. One that sends shivers down my spine and stops my heart.
“You heard the lady. She can buy her own drink”
Liv’s eyes widen, and my throat goes dry. No. He’s not supposed to be here. America or Seattle. No. No.
“And who are you?”
“I’m the owner.”
Liv’s eyes are as wide as saucers, but I’m not even surprised. Am I surprised he’s here? Yes. That he owns the place? No. I know nothing about his business. Not really.
More words are exchanged behind me, words I can’t make out through the spinning inside my body. Every part of me is on edge, and my stomach is clenched with apprehension. I can’t breathe.
I grab Liv’s arm and shake my head. I can’t stay here—not with him. She understands, grabbing my hand and leading me toward the door. I step out into the night air and take a deep breath, leaning against the wall, but the eyes I look into aren’t the blue-green ones of my best friend.
They’re the electric-blue ones of the man who owns me so entirely.
“What the f*ck are you doing here?”
“I own this place with my uncle. He saw you were here and called me.”
“Not that it has anything to do with you.” I straighten. “Where’s Liv?”
Aaron grabs my arm to stop me going back inside and spins me into him. I look up at him coldly, ignoring the way a fire sparks at his fingers wrapped around my bicep and threads through my veins until my body is alive and humming.
“I wanted to see if you were okay. That’s all. Then that guy—”
“I can take care of myself.” I snatch my arm back. “I’m more than capable of it, thank you. I certainly don’t need saving from someone who has no right to do so.”
“Is that what you think?”
I step back. “That’s what I know. You gave up every right to have anything to do with me eleven days ago.”
“Twelve.”
“What?”
Aaron swallows, and I see a flicker of regret in his eyes. “Twelve days. But who’s counting?”
“Not me, evidently.” I turn away, but his next words make me stop with my hand on the door handle.
“It’s over. Naomi finally signed the papers two days ago.”
A lump builds in my throat, one that threatens tears as strongly as it threatens vomit, and I struggle to swallow it back down.
“Congratulations,” I croak. “Now perhaps you can find someone and have a real relationship with them.”
“I already found her.”
“Then it’s a shame you f*cked it up, isn’t it?”
He curls his fingers around the handle above mine, his chest against my back. I’m still on fire, still reeling from his touch, and now his breath across my skin is cracking the fa?ade I’m struggling to keep in place.
“It took me seven years to find you again, and if you think I’m giving up now, you’re so very, very wrong.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second, but it doesn’t mean you’ll get anywhere.”
“This isn’t over, Dayton. We aren’t over.”
“Oh, it is. We’re very over. Trust me.”
I tug on the door and he releases it. I can feel his eyes on me as I find Liv at the bar, and when I turn, he’s inside, staring at me. Determination clouds his eyes, and I know I’m in for a fight.
“What the hell?” Liv hisses in my ear. “What’s he doing here?”
“He owns this place.” I grab her hand. “And we’re leaving.”
I can’t stay around him any longer. Just when he’s stopped consuming my every thought, here he is, standing in front of me like a dream come to life. Like my own personal heaven and hell mixed together in one gorgeous, heartbreaking package.
Because that’s what he is—everything that’s good and bad spun together into something intoxicatingly addictive, something you can’t help but want. Aaron Stone is and always has been my drug. He’s the one thing that can make me lose my head and send my body into overdrive. He’s the one thing I’m completely powerless against.
I can’t fight the effects he has on my body or stop the pounding of my heart whenever I hear his voice. I can’t change the way I feel when he looks at me or the way I jolt whenever he touches me, but I can’t live with it.
I also can’t live without it.
But I’ve made it this far. Twelve days without him seems like a lifetime, but it’s not really. It’s a small slice of nothing when he’s everything.