Chapter Five
Alana
It’s way after five when I get back to the office, and not surprisingly, everyone else has already left. All I want to do is head home and relax, but I feel bad, because it’s Friday, and I haven’t been to the gym all week. Besides, burning off some of this tension that seems to be clinging to me isn’t the worst idea in the world.
I check my phone and see a few messages from Peyton. I call her to see what she’s up to, since she’s always talking about coming with me so she can check out my hot instructor. I brighten at the thought of Jake. Maybe this is just what I need. A distraction to get my mind off Chase.
“Hey. I’m leaving work and going to the gym now, if you want to come?” I frown when she doesn’t answer. “Peyton?”
For a second, I think she’s hung up on me, but then she snorts. I smile because that’s just the reaction I was expecting, aside from a few missing curse words.
I’d started going to the gym nearly a month ago, after coming to an agreement with the chocolate I couldn’t resist buying every weekend: I’ll eat you, so long as I do my three workouts a week. I owe most of my success to Jake, my instructor. Not only because he’s a great teacher, but also because he’s incredibly hot. There’s no better incentive than knowing you’re going to be sweating it out in front of a god.
Slowly but surely, I’m starting to notice a difference. Not only in how I feel but also in how I look. I was happy with myself before, but now I’m really happy. And the added energy comes in handy for when Chase decides to send me out as his errand girl every five minutes. Of course, I can think of much better ways to spend that excess energy.
“Sorry, I was too stunned to reply. Who the hell goes to the gym on a Friday night?” Peyton finally grumbles.
“Me,” I say with a grin.
“Ohhh,” she teases. “I get it. You’re only going so you can see Fabio, aren’t you? And here I was assuming that you’d developed some sort of crush on Chase.”
“Of course not,” I scoff, my face heating up. Thank God she can’t see me. “And his name is Jake. I’m going there for no other reason than to work off some tension.”
“Tension from spending the day lusting after you know who?” She snickers. “How did that go, by the way? We won’t talk about how jealous I am that he took you over me. Bitch.”
“It was great,” I say after a moment. “From a work perspective, I learned a lot.”
“And from a Chase perspective?” she pries.
“I have no idea,” I admit with a sigh. “The tension that has been rising between Chase and me…”
I shake my head and swallow, my throat constricting. I’m sure I’m totally imagining that there’s anything there, because I’m pretty sure he’s not sitting at home thinking about me right now. I need to put him out of my mind, but that’s proving really hard to do. Especially when I can’t stop thinking about him.
“So, given a choice, who would you do? Hot gym instructor or Chase?” Peyton asks with a giggle.
“Considering that I have no chance with Chase, I'm going to say Jake,” I retort.
“Wow, that's a big call.”
“Did you see me yesterday when I totally humiliated myself?” I ask her with a frown.
Is it really such a surprise that I don’t even consider Chase an option?
If I thought I had a chance with him, then things might be different. But even if he was interested in me, it certainly wouldn’t be for anything other than a casual hook-up. That’s the last thing I want with someone I have to face at work every day. Especially my boss. If I went there, then I could kiss any chance of a promotion goodbye.
Jake, on the other hand, is perfect casual hook up material…
“So, do you still cringe when you think about yesterday?” Peyton giggles, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You pretty much offered the guy head,” she reminds me.
“I’ll still be cringing fifty years from now,” I mumble, rubbing my forehead. “I can’t imagine anything will ever top that as my most embarrassing moment.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. The week isn’t over yet.” She points out. “Anyway, have fun at the gym and come over later if you like.”
“Thanks, I might do that.”
The gym is on the other side of town from work, not far from my apartment. It's after six by the time I get there, and aside from the few other people with no social life who have also chosen to attend tonight’s class, it’s pretty deserted.
The class begins as usual at six fifteen, and like every other class, Jake spends half of it smiling at me. I’m standing next to the wall tonight, so there’s no chance of a repeat of the barista incident.
Twice he uses me to demonstrate what he wants the class to do, which I’m sure is just an excuse to touch me. I’m fine with that, but what confuses me is the usual thrill I feel against his touch just isn’t there tonight. And his smile, which usually sends my insides into a spin just isn’t doing anything for me tonight.
Damn you, Chase, for getting inside my head.
When the class finishes, I take my time rolling up my mat, because I’ve decided that tonight is the night I make my move. After what happened with Chase, and my muddled feelings over him, I’m even more determined to do this.
I just want something to go right for once.
I want one night where I don’t feel like a worthless idiot. I’m not usually the kind of girl who does one-night stands—or self-pity, for that matter—but tonight I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get Chase off my mind.
I wait until we’re alone in the room before I slowly walk toward the exit. Just as I hoped, Jake jogs over to me, blocking me at the door. My heart races, because this is the biggest sign he’s given me that my attraction isn’t one-sided. That alone boosts my confidence.
“Hey.” He grins.
“Hey,” I say, trying to sound relaxed. After nearly an hour of yoga, I should be.
“You did great tonight,” he comments. “I’m really noticing a difference in the way you flex.”
“Thanks,” I say shyly, refusing to acknowledge that his voice doesn’t have me swooning like it normally would.
“So, what are you doing now?” he asks me.
I shrug. It's Friday night, and like the sad person I am, I have no plans other than to go home and watch TV in my pajamas, but I don't want him to know that.
“Nothing I can't change for the right offer,” I say lightly. I’m impressed with how smooth I sound. I’m sure that has everything to do with my interest in him taking a nosedive. “Did you have something in mind?”
“I thought maybe we could go and get a drink later, or something?”
He smiles and leans a little closer to me. I swallow a shiver racing through me. Not because I like it, but because I’m feeling a little claustrophobic.
“Sure,” I say. “What time?”
He glances at his phone. “I’ve got classes until ten, so any time after that?”
“That sounds great.” I nod.
“Okay, great.” He smiles. “There’s a bar near my place, on the corner of Fifth and Seventh. Is eleven too late?”
“Not at all,” I say, even though I’m nearly always fast asleep by then. The only thing that is worrying me is that gives me five hours to chicken out. “Eleven is perfect.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then.” He glances at me. “I’m looking forward to it, Alana.”
It’s only once I’m outside the gym that the panic really begins to kick in. Whether I’m into him or not, the fact is, I haven’t been on a date in months. I’m so out of practice that it will be a miracle if I can get through this without making a complete fool of myself. Considering I can’t even get through a day at work without looking like an idiot, I highly doubt this is going to go smoothly.
And just like that, I’m back to thinking about Chase.
God, I wish it were him I was going out with.
My eyes widen. Do I really think that?
I frantically call Peyton, because she’s the only one who can help me through this. Or maybe out of it. I’m not sure which yet.
“I have a date tonight and nothing to wear,” I groan. “At eleven. Who the hell goes out that late? I’m so stupid, Pey. What the hell was I thinking, saying yes?”
“People who want to hook-up go out that late.” Peyton giggles. “What are you, sixty? Who the hell goes out before eleven, Alana? But yay for you. This is the first step in your journey to getting yourself thoroughly fucked. So, who’s the lucky guy? Hot instructor?”
“Who else would it be?” I mumble. Sex? God, I hadn’t even factored that into my anxieties until now.
“Damn. I was kind of hoping for Chase,” she admits.
So was I. I frown at myself. Jesus, Alana, snap out of it.
“I’ve only spent one day with him because making a fool out of myself in front of him doesn’t count. Why would I be going out with him?” I say, as much to myself than her. “Actually, don’t even answer that. He is the last person I want to be thinking about right now.” I groan and rub my head, feeling a migraine coming on. Isn’t yoga supposed to decrease my stress levels? This is such a bad idea.
“Stop that,” Peyton says as if she can hear my thoughts. Or did I say that out loud? “Where are you meeting him?”
“Near work,” I mutter hoarsely. I hunch forward, feeling sick at the thought of going through with this.
“Okay. Then come over here,” she says in a no no-nonsense voice. “You’ll wait with me. I’ve got the perfect dress you can wear. I even have some stunning new lingerie you can have. I only bought it yesterday. We can have a drink, get you nice and relaxed. We can even go over some ideas for small talk if it’ll make you feel better.” She pauses for a second. “Hell, we can make out if you need practice, but I draw the line at giving you head.” She pauses again. “But I’m willing to consider letting you give me head.”
“Maybe I should just cancel,” I mumble, ignoring her attempt at humor.
“Don’t you dare,” Peyton protests. “You need this, Lanna. When was the last time you were with anyone that wasn’t your hand?”
“Aaron,” I admit, my voice small.
“Jesus, it’s worse than I thought.” She sighs.
I cringe, because I know she’s right. Aaron and I broke up seven months ago, after he cheated on me with my then best friend, Dani. I’d been friends with Dani since elementary school, so it really hurt catching them in bed together.
I'll never forget walking through my apartment door after going home sick from work and finding the two of them in bed together. I heard noises that, in hindsight, were a warning, but I didn't think anything of it back then. When I pushed open the door and saw the two of them together, I felt sick. I played it back over in my mind again and again, sure that it was something I did. Did I push them together? Could I have done something differently?
But there was no indication that anything was going on between them. It was completely out of left field. It took me forever to get over it. I’m not even sure I'm completely over it now, because I’m sure it’s affected my ability to trust men. I was grateful for Peyton for being there for me back then, just like I’m grateful to have her here now.
“Lanna, you need to do this,” she says, pleading with me. “I know it’s out of your comfort zone—so much so that you’re probably shitting yourself, but short of hiring you an escort, I don’t know what else to do with you,” she says.
I laugh in spite of myself, because I know she’s right. I sigh and close my eyes. I can’t believe I’m doing this.
“Fine. I’ll be there soon.”
~~
“I can’t do this,” I mumble, breaking out into a sweat.
I wipe my forehead as I pace Peyton’s living room, my breathing shallow. All I think about is all the ways this can go wrong. I walk back into her bedroom and sit down on her bed. She kneels in front of me, taking my hands in hers, ready to avert my breakdown.
“Yes, you can,” she says, staring into my eyes. “You’re going to go out with Jake, have some fun, and if you end up back at his place, then you’re going to fuck the cobwebs out of your vagina, okay? Do this for you, Lanna. Do it for your vagina.”
I laugh helplessly and nod. Okay. For me. I nod. I can do this. For my vagina.
I get to my feet, feeling pumped for all of about five seconds before the sick feeling starts to creep back into my stomach. I wrap my arms around Peyton and kiss her cheek, determined to leave before I chicken out. She hands me a shot—of what, I have no idea, but I just shrug and drink it back.
“I’ll call you,” I promise, grabbing my purse and my phone.
She squeals and follows me to the door, hitting me on the ass as I walk out.
How did I let her talk me into this?
I should be in bed. I should be lying there, with the television on, admiring Jensen Ackles, while watching reruns of Supernatural, not standing in front of a bar in a dress that feels too low, too short, and too tight, watching Jake saunter toward me.
I brace myself as he gets closer. His dark hair blows gently against the wind. I shiver as his dark piercing eyes lock on mine and his lips part into a sexy smile.
He’s much better looking than stuffy old Chase…
All I need to do now is actually believe that.
“Hey.” He smiles when he reaches me. “You look incredible.” He leans in to kiss me on the cheek. I nearly faint as his aftershave embraces me because it’s the same one Chase wears.
“Thanks,” I say, barely able to get the words out.
He takes my hand and leads me inside, wasting no time in making a move on me. We’re barely through the door when his lips begin to ravage my neck. He's moving faster than I was expecting, but I go with it, because it’s been that long since I’ve been with anyone, and Peyton is right.
I know a big part of the problem is that I’m scared to put myself out there after what happened with Aaron, but tonight I’m going against everything my gut tells me and just going for it. I’m going to rip it off like a Band-Aid because I’ll feel so much better if I just do this.
“Can I get you a drink?” he asks, finally dragging himself away from me long enough to look at me.
I smile. “A wine would be nice,” I say. “Something white and dry.”
“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, stroking my arm before he steps away.
I sit down at the nearest free table and reach down to rummage through my purse for my phone. I smile when I see three messages from Peyton.
Peyton: Everything okay?
Peyton: Lemme know if you need me to fake a death in the family to get you out of there.
Peyton: If you don’t reply in five minutes, I’m coming in to save you.
Laughing, I quickly tap out a reply to assure her I’m safe and then shove my phone back into my bag. I look around, taking in all the happy faces and laughter that fills the air. I glance back at the bar where Jake is standing, deep in conversation with the chick behind the bar. I frown as I watch her lean over a little farther, clearly trying to guide his vision to her ample cleavage. He laughs at something she says, but instead of feeling jealous, or even slightly annoyed, I feel nothing.
What the hell am I doing here? Even watching other girls checking him out isn't stirring anything inside me. It’s the complete opposite reaction to watching blondie flirt with Chase earlier today. Why can't I get him out of my head?
“Sorry, I couldn’t get away.”
I look up as Jake returns to the table, carrying our drinks. He sits down and slides my wine across the table to me, his eyes burning through mine. He smiles at me just as I attempt to stifle a yawn. Which is a great indication of how this is going. Somehow, I manage to successfully turn it into a smirk.
“Thanks,” I say, picking up my drink. I swallow a mouthful, hoping it will relax me. Or at the very least, make me feel less out of place.
“So, what do you do for work again?” he asks. He sounds genuinely interested, and I feel bad for feeling so ‘meh’ about this.
“I'm a junior assistant over at WPC,” I say. I have to force myself to focus on him, or my attention will span elsewhere.
“Right. I think I've heard of the guy who runs that place. I’m pretty sure my sister went out with him for a bit last year. She thinks he’s a bit of a cockhead,” Jake says.
I giggle. Of course, Chase went out with Jake’s sister. That’s just perfect.
“He has a bit of a reputation for being difficult to get along with,” I agree with a smile. “Honestly, I don't see him all that much. I'm only a junior assistant, which means I'm his assistant’s assistant.”
“The fact that his assistant needs help tells me either she’s incredibly incompetent or he has an ego the size of Texas,” he says with a laugh. “Honestly, I’m just shocked that's even a thing.”
“Apparently, it is,” I say. “Chase has a lot of important tasks he needs to have done, ranging from collecting his dry cleaning to fetching his coffee. They’re jobs that are almost always allocated down the ranks, to me.”
“Wow,” Jake says, shaking his head in dismay. “So why do you work there, then? Surely there are other jobs you could get. I could put in a good word for you at the gym if you want. The reception is always looking for casual staff,” he suggests.
“Thanks,” I say, not wanting to point out how overqualified for that position I am. “I guess I'm just holding out hope that he sees my potential one day. My dream is to get into property analytics, and Chase’s firm is one of the best property consultant firms in the country. That’s the only thing that’s kept me there for the last two years.”
“Well, you’re dedicated, I’ll give you that,” he says, admiration in his eyes. “Just don’t let him take advantage of you.”
I jump as his hand reaches out and strokes mine. He slides his finger along the back of my hand, smirking at me. I smile back, and then ease my hand away, disguising the rejection as the need for another drink. I gulp it down, emptying my glass, which he apparently finds amusing.
“Are you nervous or something?” he teases.
“Maybe slightly,” I admit. Though the alcohol certainly is helping. “It's been a while since I've been out on a date.”
I cringe at my confession. I probably shouldn't go around admitting that, or I’ll sound inexperienced and naïve. Both of which I definitely am. He flags down a waitress and orders me another drink, watching with amusement as I drink that one down too. Somewhere over the course of the evening, I begin to loosen up. That may or may not be connected to the number of drinks I consume.
For the next couple of hours, we just talk and flirt, until before I know it, it’s nearly four in the morning, which is impressive, because I’ve never been in a bar that’s open that late—not that I go to many bars. I’m pretty shocked that we found things to talk about for so long, and I’m even more shocked that I’m still awake. Other than a few sneaky strokes of my thigh under the table, he hasn’t tried anything. I hate to admit it, but I’ve actually enjoyed myself—even if half our conversation subjects have revolved around Chase.
God, even when I’m trying to forget about him, I can’t.
“I guess they’re closing,” Jake murmurs, glancing around.
“I guess they are,” I echo with a smile. “The stacking the chairs on top of the tables does kind of give it away.”
“Are you making fun of me?” he asks with a chuckle.
I shrug. “Maybe a little.”
I stand up and groan as my head sways from the few drinks I’ve had. I'm relaxed and feeling great. Maybe a little too great. And frisky, which is a dangerous combination.
“So, I live not far from here,” he whispers in my ear. “Want to come over for a while?” he asks, his eyes levelling on mine. There’s no questioning why he’s asking me over; at least, not in my mind.
“Sure,” I say, my heart racing.
The moment I agree, I regret it, because the nerves and doubts begin to creep in. Knowing exactly why I’m going over there is only making things worse. I’m kidding myself if I think this is anything more than me trying to get Chase out of my mind.
“Then let’s go.” He grins.
When we get back to his place, things quickly progress. We’ve barely made it through his front door, and he's undressing me. He fumbles with the zipper on the side of my dress, eventually tugging it free. My heart races as it slips down over my curves and pools on the floor, leaving me exposed to his intense stare.
I sigh as his fingers crawl over my bare skin. He kisses me in a way that makes me clench my thighs together. We might not have much in common, but I have no doubt that he’s going to rock my world in bed.
“Come with me,” he orders.
He takes my hand, slowly leading me down the narrow hallway, before hoisting me onto his hips. I gasp and wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my lips against his as his erection grinds against my thigh. God, that feels so good already.
“Every time I’ve watched you bend over in my class I’ve thought about ramming my cock hard into your pussy,” he murmurs, burying his face between my breasts.
I groan and throw my head back, a thrill racing through me. He’s doing everything right, but for some reason, he’s not doing it for me as much as I hoped he would. He slides a finger inside my bra and massages my nipple, rolling his thumb over it. With a gasp, I close my eyes and imagine myself bent over and ready for him, while he penetrates me from behind. God, that’s better. I bite my lip, gasping as his he explores me, but in my mind, it’s Chase whose fingers are sliding in and out of me. My heart races as Jake kisses my neck.
I can’t do this. Even if we are both aware that this is just a one-night thing, I can’t put myself through this. Not when I’m clearly thinking about someone else. I’m so frustrated with myself. Why him of all people? Why Chase? Why not Liam Hemsworth—who’s just as unattainable, but at least I don’t have to see him every day.
I'm summoning up the courage to push Jake away, and then grabbing my dress and bolting out of his apartment when I hear a noise. I frown and glance at Jake, who’s frozen on the spot, a look of fear in his eyes.
“What's that?” I ask, because it sounds like someone just walked into his apartment. He’s gone white. So white, I’m afraid he’s about to faint on me. “Jake?” I ask, but he just stares at me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish who’s struggling to breathe.
“Shit,” he mutters, his eyes darting everywhere. “Fuck. Fuck. She's not supposed to be home for another two hours.”
“Who?” I gasp, as he all but drops me on the floor.
I regain my footing, just as he grabs hold of my arm. For a second I think he’s helping me catch my balance, but then I realize he’s actually dragging me toward the balcony. He’s got to be kidding me if he thinks I’m hiding out there. It’s fucking freezing.
“What the hell are you doing?” I gasp as he pushes me outside. I struggle to keep the door open, but he’s way too strong for me.
“Shut up, or my wife will hear you,” he hisses, before slamming the door shut in my face.
His wife?
I turn around, my mouth still hanging open. I shake my head and laugh because it’s the only thing I can do. I'm standing on the balcony of his apartment at six in the morning, freezing my fucking ass off, in my underwear. How the hell did this happen? How did I not pick up on the fact that he’s married? God, I’m such a fool. Tears sting my eyes, but I wipe them away, afraid if I don’t, they’re going to freeze into icicles.
I need to ring Peyton.
“Shit,” I curse when I remember my phone is still inside, somewhere in the living room.
If she finds my phone, my dress or looks out here, I’m dead. God, if I stay out here, I’ll probably die anyway.
I glance around, trying to come up with a plan. My head is a muddle of unfinished thoughts, but I force myself to think through the haze. The fact that I’m still slightly tipsy isn’t helping, and neither is the shock I’m still feeling over what has just happened.
Okay, think. There has to be a way through this.
First thing I need to do is get off this balcony. That buys me some time if she does think to look out here. I peer over the railing and shudder at how far down it is. Then I glance at the neighbor’s balcony, which is almost close enough for me to touch.
Or jump over to.
Am I insane? Jumping balconies, without shoes or I don’t know…clothes??
But I don’t have much choice. I look at his neighbor’s balcony and weigh up the pros and cons. I could slip and kill myself, but I’m confident I can make it across. The other problem is, what if his neighbor is a psycho? If I jump, I’ll be stuck there, because it’s the corner apartment. What if being there is a worse choice than staying here?
Besides, what exactly is my plan when I get over there? Wake them up and tell them I locked myself out? I sleepwalked onto my balcony, and the door closed behind me? They’ll know right away that I’m full of shit. So what if they do? If they let me in, the second I’m out that front door I never have to see them again. It’s one moment of shame that I’ll never have to relive again.
It’s either that or Jake’s wife finds me.
I take a deep breath, my heart pounding. Carefully, I scale the railing and lean across, my hand almost slipping against the wet metal. My pulse hammers out of control as I ease myself over. Don’t look down. Daylight is just starting to break through, which, considering I’m in my underwear, is not good, but I can’t think about that now. One. Two. Three. My chest aches as I breathe in a lungful of cool, crisp air, and then I jump, not giving myself a chance to second-guess. I land on the platform on my side, my heart pounding.
Holy shit, I did it. I made it across.
Taking deep breaths, I try to relax, but it’s hard when I’m too busy patting myself on the back. I’m pretty impressed with myself right now. I didn’t know I had the strength or courage to do what I just did. Maybe I should take up base jumping.
Crawling onto my ass, I lean against the wall and peer inside the window. The light is on, so that’s a good sign. All I have to do now is work up the courage to knock. Easy. You did the hard part. Knock on the window, they’ll let you in, call a cab, and you’ll be home before you know it.
I get to my feet. My whole body trembles as I work up the courage to do this. I’m almost there mentally when I decide to have one more peek inside.
Big mistake.
My eyes widen as I stare in through the living room window. Oh god no. Please, please not him. But there’s no denying it. I’m staring directly at Chase. I’m standing on the balcony that belongs to the very man who, less than forty-eight hours ago, overheard me saying how much I want to suck his cock. In my fucking underwear.
I’m going to be sick.
I spin around and stand flush against the wall, gasping at how cold the brick cladding is. I’m desperately trying to think of another solution, but there’s nothing. I glance over at Jake’s balcony, and see the lights are still on inside. All she has to do is find my dress or my phone and look out here. This is going to be a whole lot worse if I have to admit to Chase why I’m out here.
I look around, one more time, but there is nowhere left to go. Other than down. An eight-story fall would finish me, and huddling on the balcony in this weather would probably kill me too. I’ve got about ten seconds to decide what I’m going to do.
Either I scale back over and deal with Jake’s wife, or I knock and deal with Chase. Hell, there isn’t even a decision to make, because there is only one choice.
I have to knock.
I have to suck it up and knock on my boss’s door, while I’m wearing nothing but my underwear. Underwear that I’m practically popping out of. Damn Peyton and her tiny, perky breasts. My hands shaking, I take a deep breath and bring my fist up to the door and knock.
And just when I thought I couldn’t embarrass myself any harder in front of Chase.