Chasing Beautiful (Chasing Series #1) (8 page)

“Notting Hill?”

“Yes, our
next stop to your
easing
up-the-pain-strategy.” Blake smirked when he said
easing
.

Ha.

I would rather forget that embarrassing incident in the car just before breakfast.

He p
arked the car, got out and opened the car door for me. I smiled. “Hummingbird?” I gleefully asked.

“As you wish, milady,” he
said with a little bow. That gesture put me in mild hysterics. He has a good sense of humor. This is why we are friends. We can act silly and have fun—it’s easy.

We
had found the bakery just by walking around on a Sunday afternoon and we both fell in love with it. We both like to indulge our sweet tooth. So, once in awhile, we come here to indulge. Though on special occasions, like when it’s that time of the month for me, he brings me a box of cupcakes to cheer me up.
How thoughtful is that?

Grabbing my hand and pulling me next to him,
we strolled along, passing clothing boutiques and antique places. Notting Hill was a gem. They have a lot of funky, trendy stores and just about any knick-knack you could ever imagine. It’s awesome!

W
e made our way to Hummingbird Bakery that makes these delicious, mouth-watering cupcakes. Each perfect bite is sheer bliss. Still holding hands, he guided me inside the shop.

Ogling those beautifully decorated, earth-
shattering pieces of ambrosia with yearning eyes, my mouth salivated. 

Blake ordered red-velvet and chocolate chip
cupcakes to be eaten outside on the patio and a dozen more to take home. Oh, yum!
You see how intuitive he is?
Ha!

“Let me pay for this one,” I ordered.

He gave me a “shut-the-hell-up” look.

I huffed and turned around as he paid for the cupcakes. It was always like this with Blake and Toby. They get offended if you offer to pay. Some m
en would gladly appreciate the offer. Some men expect women to pay half of everything, but those two still believe that as men, they have to take care of the ladies. They feel insulted if I ask.

I f
ound a table for two and waited for my cupcakes to arrive. Sitting, I basked in the sunshine and the warmth hitting my face.
Life isn’t so bad when you have cupcakes
, I mused.

“Here we are!” announcing as he placed two of my favorite cupcakes in front of me. He cut the
cupcakes in quarters. We have a ritual. Because we both love these flavors, we agreed to a compromise, eating them half and half.  It was kind of cute.

He took a piece of red-velvet and
fed me. I opened my mouth, closed my eyes and savored the flavor.

I’m a passionate person, especially when it comes to food.

“Mmmm, yes!” I purred in satisfaction.

He laughed, “I knew you wouldn’t be mad for long,”
giving me his god-like smile again, placing his ray-bans atop his wavy hair. I looked away. He looked too tempting and when he smiles like that, I have this urge to stare at him and worship him.

It’s very disconcerting
to feel this way sometimes. It catches me off guard.

He’s a
great friend, a flirt, but a great friend nonetheless. So, when he acts a certain way—holding my hand and smiling at me—like I’m the only person in the world that matters...it confuses the shit out of me.

My phone beeped. I took it out
of my purse and checked the message.

Kyle.

Heart-thudding, I opened the message.

From: Kyle Matthews

I
went over to Jen’s to check if u were there last night and found out u went back to London. Why? Did u leave ’coz of me? Wanted to speak to you. WE HAVE TO TALK about what happened. About us. Call me. Seeing u again made me realize how much u mean to me, Sienna.

I’ll be waiting for your call.

I miss u,

Kyle

Shit
. How do I reply to that?
He sounded guilty as hell.

Well, he should after he treated me crass
ly with no thought to my feelings. I remembered it clearly. He just took what he wanted and my feelings,
again
, were pushed aside.

“Sienna… what is it?” I turned off the screen and slid it back to my purse.

I sighed heavily. “Kyle…he wants to talk.”

“
Are you going to?” looking at me, pensive, unreadable.

“No,
I’m not giving that jerk the satisfaction,” I said with decisiveness and a clear voice. I had made up my mind.

As much as it kill
ed me to admit, I
still
hurt.

What hurt more was the fact that he dated her a month before breaking it off with me. He didn’t even have
the decency to end things before saddling himself up to someone else.

T
o put icing on the cake, he had sex with me and
still
went back to her.

And now he want
ed to
talk
? The nerve!

“What’s up next?” studying his unreadable expression. He grabbed my hand and played th
e inside of my palm with his middle finger—in slow, agonizing, fever-inducing rhythmic circles.

He
was touching me
a lot
today. He never used to, I mean apart from the usual greeting of kisses, hugs and nudges here and there—nothing as personal as this. I was afraid to ask him, so I pretended it didn’t bother me, like we do this all the time.

“It’s a surprise, poppet. I’m sure you will figure it out
soon enough.”

Getting up an
d hooking my left arm around his, we strolled back to where his car was parked.

Walking at a leisurely pace, my thoughts
raced back to Kyle. Was it cold of me not to bother replying to his email? We had been through a lot and I considered him family. My mom died giving birth to me and my dad died when I was seven. From what I recall of my dad, he was a loving man, giving and he adored me. He used to talk about Mom all the time and how they loved me since they discovered they were pregnant.

Dad had a
heart attack. No one saw it coming; it was sudden and swift. All of a sudden, I was alone. I remember the conservator consoling and assuring me that my father was a wise man. That he had invested the insurance he got from my mother’s death shrewdly. He even added that there was more coming from my dad’s insurance policy amongst other investments he delved in. My dad made sure I had a college fund on top of everything else.

He basically thought it out accordingly, just in case he die
d. I received a partial amount of his Social Security money to tide me over until I turned eighteen. It was the legal age when I took over my own spending and could handle all my finances.

At
the time, I could have cared less about money because all I wanted was my dad back.

My father’s sister, Christy, took me in. She has a husband, Dan, and a daughter a year older than me, Caroline. It was hell living in the Brown’s household. I was the interloper who basically ruined their neat
, consistent lives.

When I met Kyle, the boy next door, he became my solace, my protector and my friend.
His mother was always kind and loving to me—baking cakes and pastries that I enjoyed and loved through the years. I always depended on Kyle and leaving Los Angeles tore me apart, but I had to leave home. I just wanted to get away, to have a new life, a second chance to erase all the memories I endured living with the Brown’s. As a result, he was hurt, but supportive about my decision.

My father made sure that
I was well provided for. The money I got from him on my eighteenth birthday was substantial. I don’t need to work if I don’t want to. But I have other plans. I want to become successful and thrive in the marketing industry.

Leaning back against the cool
leather seat, I exhaled.
Boy, I’m exhausted
. Driving around town seriously took a toll on my jet-lagged condition.

I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head, the sounds of Moonlight Sonata
in cello relaxing me into slumber as he squeezed my thigh.

“Don’t drift off yet. Promise you can sleep when we get to our destination, alright?” glancing at me with a hint of a smile.

He took a hold of my hand and placed it on his lap; I was overwhelmed with weird emotions washing over me.

I turned sideways to look at him. Shades on, he looked
like a sexy man from a car commercial, just a tad bit more good looking.

H
e resembles Gaspard Ulliel or Christiano Ronaldo. That’s how deadly he looks. I suppose the Latin coloring and charm contributed from his Italian mother and
when he speaks Italian
…total major turn on.

And his eyes, his eyes are another dynamic.
Blake has the most unusual eyes, midnight blue rimmed silver with flecks of scattered gold in the middle. When he’s angry, his eyes turn almost black making those scattered gold flecks stand out. It’s like staring at the Milky Way galaxy—s
ucking you in
, until you’re lost in them. It’s spellbinding and disconcerting at the same time.

“Are you done checking me out, Sienna?”
giving me a sideway glance and diverting back to the traffic ahead.

Busted.

“Not yet, just give me a few more minutes; I’m sure by then, I will have memorized all your flaws,” I quipped back.

I was
a tad mortified that he caught me staring wide-eyed at him. “Are we almost there?” I drastically needed to change the subject back to safer ground.

“Yes, few minutes or so
. Then you can sleep, my sweet, into the abyss just as long as you promise not to snore,” smiling tenderly at my horrified expression.

“Ha! I do not snore!” I pinched at his leg.

“Owwww.” Blake yelped but had his god-like smile in check. Dreamy is more like it. I hate it that he has a way of disarming me with that smile.

As promised,
after a few minutes, we arrived at our destination outside the upscale hotel in Knightsbridge. Getting out of the sexy Aston Martin, he handed the car keys to the valet attendant and tended to me. With a hand on my back, he gently guided me to the hotel spa.

“Aw, h
ow you read my mind, Knightly! Thank you! Thank you!”

“I hope t
his will make up for all the energy you invested with me since this morning. Come.”
Like I wouldn’t forgive him?

Blak
e held the door and we stepped inside. The reception area was a white and glass combination, giving a chic clean-cut effect.

“Mr. Knightly, welcome back!”
greeted the auburn haired, blue-eyed, svelte lady with a flirty smile.

“Krista, H
ello! How are you?” Blake said acting polite but distant.

“I’m very good, Mr. Blake
.” Krista gazed back through her lashes, quite suggestively. With a few taps on her keyboard, she spoke again. “Okay, your room is ready. Olga will show you to it.” I caught her wink at him and bite her bottom lip.

I almost grunted out loud from her obnoxious
, flirty attitude.

Disgusting much?

Jesus.

Olga appeared almost immediately and
politely showed us to our reserved room.

I couldn’t run out of
there fast enough.

My massage haven awaits.

The moment I walked in there, I felt like I had walked on to a set of the
Arabian Nights
. It had an oval-shaped pool that was decorated with rose petals. Further to the left in the room stood a colorful silk tent and beaded throw pillows, kaftan rugs. Large glass bowl-stands with petals and floating candles embellished the room.