Cake (3 page)

“Jason,” I reply, slapping a tight smile on my face.

He steps down and stands next me. I have to bend my neck farther back to look up at him, shielding my eyes from the glare of the sun.

“I’ve tried to contact you several times this past week,” he calmly states.

Seeing a hot, hard-body man look unsure of himself, is actually a sexy sight. Who knew? Worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, he turns away, looking over the lake.

“Sorry, I’ve been busy at work.” Nodding his head, he looks back at me.

“So, we’re good?”

Phew. I am worried he is going to think it meant something - more. My idea is more along the lines of a one-time-only-
friends-with-benefits
situation. “Oh, yeah. Great,” I answer back, stupidly grinning and giving him a thumbs-up with both hands, which I’m not sure why I’m doing. Lowering my idiot hands and feeling like a complete douche canoe, I look back over the lake. I feel his large hand on my shoulder turning me towards him.

“Good, because I have been waiting to do this since we were last together,” he says moments before he plunders my lips with his.

For a tiny second, I have to admit how good of a kisser he is with those full soft lips crushing tightly against mine and his tongue doing that swirly thingy at the crease of my mouth. Wait, where am I? Catcalls sound from all over as I push him back, groaning. “That’s enough, Cowboy Casanova. I think my
good
is way different than your
good.
”

With a sarcastically sounding laugh, he asks, “I guess I overshot that.” He places both of his hands in his front pant pockets and shrugs, “What? You want to keep this on the down-low?”

Peeking to sheepishly look up at him, I notice he looks more amused than pissed. “Yes. Look, I’m sorry. Maybe this isn’t such a great idea.” I glance down at my white tie sandals.

Feeling pressure under my chin, he gently lifts it with his hand, and I look into his sky blue eyes.

“You know, you really know how to put a guy in his place. I don’t think I’ve ever been someone’s hidden booty before.” He chuckles as he finishes and finally smiles. “You are probably way out of my league, but I’m not going to let that scare me off.”

I try to intercept his next comment, but he presses his finger against my lips, halting my words. “I’m not...”

“Kylie, you are one cool chick. You’re funny, smart, and certainly beautiful. When we’re together, I have the greatest time and feel as if I’m hanging out with one of my best friends. I see other men and women stare at us when we’re out, not because we make a great looking couple which, by the way, I think we do, but because you light up your space where ever you are. People want to know who you are and what you do because you shine from the inside out. So, I guess what I’m saying is, I’ll take you anyway I can get you.”

I’m flabbergasted. Words have left me because that is the most wonderful, and oddly scary, speech that anyone has ever given me. He reaches for a strand of my hair floating around my shoulders.

“Say something,” he whispers, tugging gently on my hair and smiling down at me.

After a long pause, I answer, “Thanks.” I’m sure that’s not what he is expecting. My thoughts race and the next words are out of my mouth before I realize what I’m saying. “I’m going to take a walk.” Stepping backwards, I tug my hair away and watch as it drifts away from his hand. I see the longing in his eyes and guilt swamps me because I know I can’t return those feelings. Someone else owns them. He always has.

I feel everyone’s eyes on me, but I don’t look up as I almost run down the stairs leading to the lawn in my haste to disappear. That moment made two emotions blatantly obvious: Misery because I’m in love with someone who I’m not sure will ever love me back and remorse for sleeping with this decent guy when I knew I was in love with the one that makes me miserable. Fucking viscous cycle.

Following a trail along the lake, I trip over a rock, painfully stubbing my toe. “OUCH! God bless it!” I say, while hopping on one foot. Why do I feel like I am frozen in my life? What is wrong with me? Trent doesn’t love me like I want or need. He sees me as a sister figure and always has. He’s made it very clear that we can’t be anything else because he doesn’t want to lose me. I made the decision a long time ago to accept that and love him however he needs, but every time I try to move forward, no one measures up. Even Jason doesn’t evoke the same connection I feel when I’m with Trent.

Some days, I feel like I can wait Trent out, make him love me at some point later on in life, but as my Aunt Leigh reminded me recently, what if I wake up one day an old lady, alone in my bed because I tried to wait him out? What then? Will I look back at my life and be proud that I stayed true to him or would I hate myself for letting it all pass me by? For letting someone like Jason slip through my fingers, not appreciating what he may be offering?

Wiping a stray tear from my cheek with my palm, I rush forward, trying to navigate far away from the others. I feel like my chest tightens with every step. I have so much going on in my life. My aunt is going to die, and what am I going to do without her? She has always been my rock. I feel distraught at the thought of not having her to confide in.

Running through a patch of trees, I come to a heavily shaded spot with a wide hammock hanging in the middle of two strong pines. Rubbing both my hands against my face, I take a deep breath. The sound of a twig snapping makes me hastily turn around, and I almost slip to the ground.

“Easy there, Grace. You should have had the decency to at least put the suffering guy out of his misery. Like I’ve told you repeatedly, let him know that the ice-princess’s heart is frozen and held by someone who will never be able to return it,” Dray says, his face not showing sarcasm but actually pity.

His words slash me to the core. He speaks the agonizing truth, which is why they cut me deep and hurt so damn much. “Shut up, Dray.”

He advances closer to me as I take a step back. I know that he won’t hurt me physically, but mentally, I’m close to being destroyed today. My emotions threaten to overwhelm, paralyzing me with the fear of possibly always being alone.

On a deep breath, I plead, “Ple...Please leave me alone. Just go away.” I can’t deal with Dray right now, and I sure as hell don’t want to fight him. It wears me down. I feel another tear roll down my check, and I quickly reach up to wipe it off, but not before he sees it.

“Fuck this crying, Kylie.” Reaching me, he clasps both of my arms with his capable hands. “Fight me like you normally do. You don’t take my shit. Why start today?”

Hanging my head, I answer, “I’m tired. I’m so damn tired.” I haven’t allowed myself to cry about what is happening to my aunt in months. The shop has taken almost every waking minute to get it in the shape it is now, where I can take off to be with her, but she will not let me. I worry about Mads and her constant inept choice of boyfriends. I have a great guy, who wants to be in my life and all I can think of is how different he is from Trent. How he is
not
Trent. And now, my mortal enemy is seeing me at my lowest.

“Dray, just leave.” I ask, softly. Surprising me, he listens, letting go of my arms and stepping back.

“You need…,” he begins.

“Just stop. Whatever you have to say, I don’t care to hear it.”

Glaring at me, I think he intends to argue, but at the last minute, he turns to leave.

Not wanting to return to the party yet, I lie down in the hammock, holding my emotions in check. It’s not the time or place to let them out. So, I sway back and forth and let the lull of the motion calm me. My eyes become heavy, and the last thought I have before closing my eyes drifts to the sensation of floating.

The sounds of crickets that float on the humid night sky wake me. I hurriedly sit up and immediately realize my mistake when I almost tumble to the ground. The hammock I’m evidently lying in, tries to cast me out, bucking wildly back and forth. Grasping the net material like a lifeline, I try and steady my clumsy ass. Once it slows down, I realize how peaceful it is and lie back down.

Looking up at the tree canopy above, I can see a couple of stars through the gaps as they twinkle in the night sky. It would almost be perfect if I didn’t feel sweat pooling between my breasts, leaking down to make me sticky all over with the heat. The sounds of laughter and music, along with the delectable smell of barbecue, linger through the air, reminding me where I am. My stomach growls at the wonderful smoky aroma wafting into my nostrils.

I try to remember exactly what transpired before with Dray. I groan thinking I almost emotionally lost it in front of him. God, did I really do that? And what is up with Dray? I figured he would be more likely to record my mental break down and post it on the internet. Wait. I remember someone playing with my hair or rubbing my head. Did I dream that? It couldn’t have been him. He would be more of the creepo toucher. Wait. What if he felt me up? Trying to bring back any memories, I do remember having my hair played with. That can’t be right, unless he found Mads to take care of me? That has to be it.

Leaning up, I feel emotionally better than I have in a long time, which is amazing considering it didn’t require a large dose of Xanax. I only have one pressing need at the moment. My bladder feels ready to explode, so finding a bathroom is paramount; however, figuring out how to get out of this hammock without giving myself a golden shower takes a minute.

Finding my way back to the house requires no direction; it’s lit up like a Christmas tree. The party is in full swing now, but it seems that everyone is partying more on the houseboat that is still docked. As I walk up the stairs to the veranda, I see a group watching a baseball game and another playing poker around a large table.

Trying not to be noticed until I can assess the scare factor of my face, I don’t connect eyes with anyone and head straight to the restroom. After fixing my hair and washing up, I freshen my makeup and decide to see where Madison is. Heading towards the houseboat, I start where I last saw her; however, this time, I stop to chat with friends and acquaintances along the way. I glance around looking to avoid Dray and now Jason, but I don’t see either.

Boarding the boat, the voice of John Legend blares out into the darkness. It seems whoever is in charge of the music has moved on from old school rap for the evening. Walking along the deck, I squeeze in and out of people looking for her. There is actually a small breeze on the lake tonight that cools my heated skin. As I round the corner, I hear Mads high-pitch laugh and change my direction to find her in the interior of the boat.

The inside is elaborately decorated in white and gold. Standing in the doorway, I see several men and women sitting around a large circular white couch chatting and laughing. Madison sits on the arm at the end, leaning against a nice looking guy. His dark skin gleams underneath the lighting, and his face I wouldn’t say is handsome, but boyishly cute. He is wearing an Atlanta Braves baseball cap pulled low, and he looks comfortable in his black jeans, black button-up shirt, and black shoes.

“You look like you’re looking for someone? Maybe I can help?” A sexy sounding male voice whispers in my ear from behind.

Turning, it takes a minute to catch my breath. Standing in front of me is none other than Pop God, Nick Andrews. My iPhone has every single one of his albums downloaded to it.

“Holy SHIT!” I’ve seen him in concert five times, going way back to when he was in my favorite boy band.

Laughing, he says, “Nope, really nothing holy about it. Same old shit, I’m sure.”

I can feel my cheeks turning three shades of red, and the heat is making me dizzy or it could be Nick. I’m not sure. It’s funny because, in my business, I meet famous people regularly, but to meet the one person that is a superstar to me is paralyzing. I start fanning myself with my hand, feeling like my hormones have returned to those of an adolescent teen.

“Okay, so we are even,” he states.

“Wha...?” I start, not finishing because he flashes those famous dimples at me. OH. MY. GOD! The air is sucked out of the room. I can’t breathe.

“You already know who I am, and I already know who you are. So we are even.” He repeats.

I’m dazed and confused, maybe from the lack of oxygen to my brain. No, I’m pretty sure it’s his presence. He knows
me
? Now I AM hallucinating. Thick, shaggy, black hair with his world-famous crystal clear baby blue eyes stare back at me. Nick Andrews is not talking to me so casually. It’s not possible! I must still be asleep. Not thinking about what I’m doing, I lean over to pinch him. Wow, that’s a hard tricep.