“Woah, woah there killer. You mean like the Jesse? Mr. Superhot hunk you never really got over?”
“That’s not true,” I say. “I never got over how much of an asshole he was. I got over him pretty fast.” The truth I won’t admit to Kennedy is I never did get over Jesse. I can’t admit that. He was real and strong in a way I’ve never found in a guy since. He cared for me with such an intensity that it was overwhelming at times, and the brightness of his love for me back then still makes everything after it seem dull in comparison. And kissing him was, well… It was an experience. The sensation of his touch was so overwhelming that my body had to shut down everything else. I can still remember the way he smelled--something woodsy and so completely Jesse--and the way he ignited my desire. He exuded strength and sexuality. There was no defense against the hunger and passion he sparked within me.
I can’t admit any of that. Holding onto feelings like that for someone who broke my heart ten years ago probably makes me crazy. I just can’t believe he’s actually back. I’ve held a place for him in my heart all this time, convincing myself that I had to be building the memory of him up in my mind and the real thing could never compare. Little did I know I wasn’t even doing him justice. Just thinking about the way I felt when he looked at me makes me crave a cold shower and a glass of wine. I’ve never seen a man pulse with sexuality and intensity like that before. I laugh a little to think of what would happen if he guest starred on Stalked. Every girl in America would have a new obsession overnight. Because they wouldn’t know what kind of person he really is.
Hating him should be easy, but I already feel the soft thrum of desire from deep in my core. My bastard body doesn’t even know what’s best for it. Jesse is trouble. The only smart thing to do is keep my distance.
Kennedy tries and fails to hide her smile. “Right. That’s why you look like you’re so turned on right now you might jump my bones.”
I laugh despite my irritation. “I’d have to be really, really turned on to resort to that.”
Kennedy looks thoughtful. “So it’s a possibility then? Noted.”
I slap her arm, feeling some of my anger dissipating with her humor. “Creep.”
She pouts, but I’m not falling for it. Kennedy has no shame, and hurting her feelings is pretty hard to do.
“I need to get out of here before he catches up with me,” I say, fishing my keys out of my bag and waving.
“Okay. I’m just going to wait here so I can get a glimpse of the guy that has you so turned on.”
I open my mouth to respond to that and can’t, snapping it shut and hurrying toward my car. I get in and immediately call my agent, Frank, waiting impatiently for him to pick up.
His shrill voice blasts in my ear. “Makayla, baby! You’re practically showering me with attention lately. I love it!”
“Where the hell did you find the bodyguard.”
“What? Oh, Mr. Slade? You said you wanted the best money could buy, and that’s what I got. This guy is like the Michael Jordan of the personal protection industry. His record is flawless and none of his clients have ever been hurt.”
“Well I want another bodyguard. I can’t work with this one.”
“You already paid him though. He cost fifty grand just for the week.”
My eyes bulge and I lean forward, clutching the steering wheel so hard my fingers hurt. “Fifty grand, as in fifty thousand dollars?”
“You said to get the best money could buy.” Frank’s voice is uncharacteristically hesitant now. “Didn’t you look at the contract I faxed over before you signed it?”
No. I was too preoccupied with trying to drink away the memory of the man in the mask. “It’s just a figure of speech! I didn’t mean to literally go out and…” I sigh, pressing my palm to my forehead. It’s not Frank’s fault that I was careless with my words. “Just do me a favor and make sure I only have him for the one week, okay?”
“Sure, of course,” says Frank, obviously just relieved to be getting off the hook. “I’ll let you get back to your day. Ciao!”
He hangs up and I close my eyes, trying to gather some strength. Before I have a chance, someone in a suit tugs on the passenger door. I duck my head a little to try to catch a glimpse of who it is, but I can already tell from the fit body that it’s Jesse. I’m suddenly glad I locked the door. I expect him to yell for me to unlock it, but instead he just smoothly whips out a folded metal bar and shimmies it between my car door and windshield.
“Hey! Stop th—”
There’s a click and he opens the door, sliding into the seat smoothy with a satisfied sigh. He looks over at me, mouth pulled up in just the slightest hint of a smirk.
Cocky bastard.
“Where to?” he asks.
“We are not headed anywhere. You’re going to step out of my car and I’m going to go meet my stepfather.”
“I’m not ruining my reputation because some pampered starlet refused to let me protect her.”
I suck in a deep breath through my nose, looking away from him. Looking anywhere but that obnoxiously gorgeous face that is begging to be touched and kissed. Or punched.
He chuckles, “Your nostrils still flare when you’re pissed. It’s cute.”
An idea occurs to me and I turn to face him. “You know what? Fine. You can protect me. I paid way too much money to let you go to waste. You can tag along with me to meet my stepfather and we’ll go from there.” We’ll see how long he can tolerate me before he quits on his own. He thinks I’m a pampered starlet? Good. It’ll make it easier to convince him to hate me.
He gives me a wary look but nods. “Good. I’ll drive.”
“No. I’ll drive,” I say.
He smirks, leaning back in the seat and making himself comfortable in an infuriating way. The arrogant prick is trying to act like he just got exactly what he wanted. Unbelievable.
I pull out of the parking lot and feel suddenly awkward in the silence that follows. While he may be comfortable sitting in silence like some brooding war hero, I’m not. Silence makes me uncomfortable. And when I’m uncomfortable, my mouth gets ahead of my brain.
“So, what have you been up to since you ditched me?” I ask. “Other than push-ups.” I feel blood rush to my cheeks. Did I just say that? I have to press on the brakes when I realize how much I’m speeding already.
“Ten years and you still hold a grudge against me? I’m flattered you’ve been thinking of me.”
“Oh get over yourself,” I snap. “I just remember that you’re an asshole, and that apparently hasn’t changed.”
“Yeah. You’re right about that.”