I didn’t know why I agreed to meet Blane, other than I was a sadist. Or was I a masochist? I didn’t know which was which, but I clearly liked to inflict pain on myself.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Blane as I got dressed. I even straightened up my bathroom before tossing everything Ariel-related into a drawer, out of sight.
Not that I was planning on bringing Blane back here, but he couldn’t know about this. Ever.
I wasn’t ashamed. In fact, I was scared by how much I felt in control over the situation. The money aside, I was making my own rules. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t in anyone’s shadow, and I was standing tall in my choice. It wasn’t at all what I thought would come of the experience. Originally, I wanted to understand why women started in the industry, and why they stayed.
Now I got it. What else would they do?
Catching a glance at myself in the mirror, I smiled. I was still the same short, curvy woman, but there was something different. I felt more desirable, but not because of the sexy videos. No, those left me needing a shower. It was the control. My mom wasn’t there telling me how stupid I was, and my dad wasn’t comforting me with food. My sisters weren’t judging, and Stanwick wasn’t chastising me.
My phone pinged just as I was heading out to walk to Starbucks. Standing in the vestibule of my shabby apartment building, I plucked it out of my coat pocket and read the incoming text.
TESS: Hey, girl! Where have you been? Would love to see you.
CATIE: I’m here. Want to do lunch this week?
TESS: Sure. Did you see what’s going on all over Twitter? Sonny’s in love.
I smiled to myself. What an idiot.
CATIE: Yep! Dumb guy. Of course he is.
TESS: And you? Have you seen you-know-who?
CATIE: No.
TESS: Fine. Oh, heard from Shelby you got an ID! Want to do lunch next week at the Mexican place and have a margarita?
Why not? I was only taking two classes since I was thrown out of my major, making me ineligible to take what I wanted this trimester. And only two classes on my schedule left me a bit of free time.
CATIE: Sure.
TESS: Text me on Monday.
CATIE: OK.
I shoved the phone back in my bulky coat pocket and pushed the door out into the cold winter air. The sky was gray and hung heavy with moisture. It would probably snow tonight, and I would be happy to snuggle at home in pajamas. Frank didn’t film on Saturdays, choosing to take his wife out instead, so it was my night off. Otherwise, I worked double-time during the week, filming as much as I could. The money was an insane motivator, the notoriety not even a close second for me.
It was also free speech and such. I was so sick of Stanwick tossing out my ideas. These ladies did what they had to do, and no one stopped them from doing it.
My boots crunched through the leftover snow on the sidewalk as I hustled to a hot cup of coffee and an even hotter tall drink of man. A chill ran down my spine at the thought of what I was doing. I bundled myself tighter in my scarf and picked up my pace.
Why couldn’t I have aimed for a soccer scholarship? Instead I was thrown out of my major, kicked to the curb, and turned into an overnight porn sensation.
“Hey! Cate.”
I turned to see Blane getting out of his pickup.
“I would have picked you up,” he said as he rushed over to walk in with me.
“Not necessary. A little fresh air does me good.”
I tried to form a friendly smile, but couldn’t help the sizzle traveling through my whole body at the sight of him. He looked good in bulky Timberlands, with a puffy coat unzipped over skinny sweats and a thermal shirt.
“I see you’re still sporting your sweatband from last night.” I sniffed deeply as he held the door open, allowing the aroma of fresh-roasted coffee beans to give my tired head a much-needed jolt.
“Can’t take it off now.”
“I don’t even want to know what it smells like.”
“Hey, I run it through the water in the shower.”
We stepped in line, and like a missile, his hand landed on my back in a fiery explosion. I tried to scoot away, but he pulled me into the circle of his arm and whipped out his phone to snap a selfie.
“What are you doing?”
“Sonny lifted the ban; I’m sure you already know. The whole campus is wondering where Cute Catie is, and I’m giving them proof she’s with me.”
His fingers worked overtime on his phone before he said proudly, “Done.”
“I don’t even want to know what you just did,” I whispered before breaking free from his hold.
“Hey, Steele, awesome game last night,” the barista yelled.
“Yeah, unreal,” the girl at the register said, practically swooning at the sight of him.
“Thanks, y’all,” he said as we stepped up to the counter. “A cappuccino, fully leaded, and a bottled water.”
I gave him the stink-eye. “You don’t have to order for me.”
“Cut the feminist crap. You’re just an everyday woman now.”
Little did he know.
“I drink a skinny latte now, for your information,” I snorted back.