Selena

The asshole programmed himself into my phone as Man Candy. What in the ever-loving fuck. I can’t help but shake my head at him, or his antics. Two days ago, right before he gave me this phone, I almost slipped up, I almost let him see that he genuinely made me laugh. Thank God, I recover well. I didn’t want him to know that he was slowly getting to me, because that’s what was happening, as much as I didn’t want to admit that he was.

The cocky, arrogant-as-fuck, Christian Steele was getting to me.

For two days, I’ve done the shittiest job ever of not thinking about Christian Steele. I’ve done every damn thing I could’ve done to purge my mind, to redirect my focus to anything and everything that doesn’t remind me of that annoying asshole. No matter what I’ve done, he still plagues my mind.

It’s the end of May, and I agreed to go out with my friend Brenna for a drink, a much needed one if you asked me. She’s been away the past few weeks, and there’s so much that we haven’t talked about, things that we need to talk about – like the cockroach that can’t be squashed.

I’m really trying not to see Brenna when the humidity is making my makeup slide off and my hair frizz. I had to sweet talk her into seeing me at 8 p.m. Luke told me he’d watch Ellie and Sabrina, and for once, I didn’t feel bad for leaving them. Normally, I do, the guilt eats away at me because I feel like I should be spending all of my time at home or working. I know that’s wrong, to not have any time for myself, but…it’s just how I feel. I’m more concerned about the kids than my own personal health and wellbeing, but that’s just what happens whenever you have three mouths to feed and the sole responsibility for a family.

I make my way over to the local Starbucks and meet Brenna, she’s a recovered alcoholic so we don’t go to the bars. We avoid the bars, and maybe we don’t have to, but it’s my way of not tempting her sobriety. What I will tempt her with is a chocolate chip cake pop, and if she won’t eat it, I sure as hell will.

I go up to the counter and order my usual, a caramel Frappuccino, and add on a chocolate chip cake pop. I see that it isn’t overly busy this time of night, so I make my way over to the corner of the store after I get my frap. There’s a small quaint couch in the corner with no others surrounding it. This looks like the perfect place to catch up with Bren.

I haven’t told Brenna about what happened at Russo’s, and I don’t think I will. She’s the kind of girl that over worries about everything and anything, and the last thing I need for her to worry about is me and my former place of work.

Yep. That’s right. I was fucking fired.

I got a call from Frankie the next day, telling me I’d better never set foot on the property of Russo’s ever again. I can’t say I blame her if one of my girls slapped me I’d probably have fired them too. But really? I can fucking blame her. I’ll blame Frankie for a lot of shit because, in the end, she was the catalyst for everything that happened.

I hate to admit that I’ve had to tap into the money that was put into my account – but I did. There was no way in hell I was going to lose my family, so I did what I had to do, that being using the money that was wired to me to help pay the bills.

“Look what the dog dragged in,” Brenna laughs, approaching me.

“Cat. I’m pretty certain it’s ‘look what the cat dragged in’.”

“Pfft. Whatever. You know I was never good at these southern sayings, anyhoo. I’ll be right back, let me get some liquid poison.” I shake my head as Brenna turns away and heads towards the counter. No matter what, some things will never change. Just like Brenna’s unique talent for messing up old sayings.

Brenna got her liquid poison as she called it and sat down next to me on the couch, updating me on what’s been going on with her the last few weeks. It made me realize that I’ve kind of been a shitty friend. For a while, I’ve been so absorbed in my family and making sure that everyone is okay on the home front, I didn’t even think to consider if my best friend needed me or not. Damn, that is shitty.

“I’ve landed a few new clients at work. You know, work used to not feel like work, but now all it feels like is work. I start my day at four in the morning sometimes just to meet their busy schedules, and most of the time I’m not even hitting my bed until eleven or midnight.” Brenna goes on and on about her new clients, her love-hate relationship with her job, and by the end of her spewing, we’ve figured out that, indeed, she does still love her insane life.

“So, what’s been up with you? Anything new?”

She asks, so I tell. I don’t leave out any detail, especially not the elephant in the room named Christian Steele. Brenna was at the gala, she was how I even got into that art exhibit. I was her plus one. She saw how I fled as soon as I figured out exactly who the hot blonde was, flirting with me, and she’s chastising me for leaving her so quickly and for leaving that “fine piece of hunk” all alone.

“Well, I’ll be damned…He said he was going to find you and make you regret walking out the door that night. So, have you regretted it yet?” Brenna jokes, lips turning into a cat-like-smile.

“No. The only thing I regret is not leaving sooner.”

“Bullshit. You like that he’s chasing you, and don’t you deny it.”

“No, I don’t,” I argue.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire! Whew, I might need an extinguisher over here ‘cause you’re about to engulf into flames right before my eyes.” Brenna puts her hands in front of her, almost looking as if she was trying to protect herself from a flame.

“You are such a jerk,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Yep, and it’s why we’re friends. So, suck it, sista”

“Okay. Fine!” I grit my teeth and admit exactly what I shouldn’t, “I like that he’s chasing me.”

“Hah! I knew it!” Brenna laughs so hard that customers on the other side of the store turn to look at us. I just want to sink into this couch and become one with it at this point. She always has a way of slowly humiliating me, and this isn’t even the worst of what’s no doubt going to come.

“Oh, shut it.”

“No. I won’t! In fact, you don’t even want my lovely yappers to stop yapping. You want me to tell you to go for it, that’s what you want. You, my lovely little Selena, want me to tell you that God has gifted you with a marvelous specimen of a man. Not just any man, a Steele. I’m not telling you to date him because he’s loaded, but let’s be honest, you’re struggling with cash and working at that trashy club, and he’d spoil you rotten. So, what’s the problem?”

“There are a few problems.”

“Like?”

I put the straw to my lips and sip on what’s left of my caramel deliciousness. I swear that whoever invented caramel Frappuccinos is a saint. “Well, are you going to tell me, or are you going to drink your feelings away?” I shoot Brenna a death glare. She had no problem drinking her feelings away a couple years ago. Yep, I did just think that. Oh well, I’m a mega bitch. If anyone says differently, then they’re lying.

“You know what he does Bren, sure the Steele’s do a good job of pretending they aren’t these lowlife criminals, but we all know better. We know what they do.”

“You know, do you? What is it exactly that they do?” Brenna asks, bringing her hot Americano to her lips, waiting for my response. I blank because I’m not quite sure what it is exactly that they do, but I know…, I mean, we all know! “That’s my point. You want to believe a few rumors when you don’t know jack shit about what they’re doing either. Stop acting all high and mighty when you don’t know anything! Jesus, Sel’, give the man a chance.”

“I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to,” I admit, sighing heavily.

“And why the hell not?”

“Because he has a girlfriend. I saw pictures of them together.” I take a large sip, drinking the last bit of what’s left in my cup. Brenna opens up her phone, I can hear her perfectly done acrylic nails tapping away at her screen and within an instant, she’s showing me an image of the girl’s picture who I saw in Christian’s bedroom.

“Is that her?” Brenna asks me, eyebrows furrowed. I nod, and Brenna starts to giggle. “That’s not Christian’s girlfriend, silly, that’s his soon to be sister-in-law. Logan Steele’s baby mama. That is Brooklyn. Now that we’ve cleared that up, how will you proceed with Christian’s advances?”

Before I knew the answer, I wouldn’t. But now…things are different. I don’t want to do anything with Christian Steele. But I do. He drives me insane with his cocky attitude, in the best way possible.

Finding out that he’s single changes things…

God dammit. So much for staying away from Christian Steele.

***

I wake up to an obnoxious ringing sound. I think it’s my cell phone, and then I remember that my ring does not sound as loud and horrendous as whatever horrendous thing is ringing. I throw my comforter off me, rubbing my hands against my eyes until I can focus on the direction of where it’s coming from. I walk over to my closet, and next to it sits a chair, and on the chair is my purse. It’s at that exact moment I see the name Man Candy lighting up, and suddenly it all makes sense.

Christian is calling me.

I stare at it for a second, trying to figure out if I really want to answer it or not. The only thing I know for certain is that I want it to stop ringing, so I just answer the damn thing. “It’s one in the fucking morning, Steele,” I whisper snap.

“Is it?” he breathes. I’m not used to getting a normal response from him. If anything, I’ve almost expected his cocky comebacks any time he speaks to me, to be honest – I love them. “Can I see you?” I have to blink twice before I realize what he’s just asked me. “I just need to see you.” His voice is wavering, something that has never happened before. Christian is always cocky, arrogant, he exuberates power. His voice never falters, he never sounds this…low, no…low isn’t the right word. Christian sounds weak.

“I’m at home,” I tell him, lowering my voice to a soft whisper.

“I know you are. I’m at your front door, let me in, Cinderella.” I think he’s lying until I slip out of my room and dart as quickly and silently as I can down the stairs until I’m at the front door. I put my hand over the deadbolt and turn it back, then open the door slowly. And just like he’s said, he’s at my front door.

The light from the street highlights him just enough that I can see the side of his face, purging out. I slowly rake my eyes over his features, a cut above his eye, left cheek swelling, my eyes go lower as I inspect him thoroughly, and then I see the blood. Oh, god.

“Oh my god, what on earth happened to you?” I grab his hand and urge him into my house, shutting the door and locking the deadbolt behind him. “And how the hell do you know where I live?”

Christian chuckles softly, “I know everything about you, Selena Jacobson”

“Of course, you do,” I reply leading him into the kitchen where I keep my first aid kid. I make sure he’s sitting on the barstool as I pull out the blue plastic box from the emergency drawer. “What happened, Christian?”

“It was nothing.”

“If it was nothing you wouldn’t have come to my house at one in the morning, bloodied and bruised!” I snap, fumbling with the lid of the first aid kit. I don’t even know why I’m snapping at him. Sure, I like the guy….way more than I should, to be honest, but it’s not like I’m in love with him.

He’s an ass.

He’s cocky as fuck.

He’s a dick.

He has a smart mouth.

He looks really good in suits.

He handles my smart mouth.

Fuck, and I’m back to liking him.

“After the night I’ve had, the only thing that I wanted to do was come and see you. I needed to see your face, to make sure you were okay, cause all I want to do is make sure you are taken care of.” He leans further against the island, crossing his arms in front of him. I dig through the first aid kid and tear open an alcohol pad, approaching Christian. I don’t even warn him about the burn that will be coming. I press the little white cloth against the cut over his eye and feel him hiss, I start to pull away, but he grabs my arm, closing his fist around it, keeping my fingers against his cut. “Don’t you pussyfoot around treating me, sweetheart. I can handle it.” He gives me that million-dollar smile. I simply just roll my eyes at him. God, he is infuriating and annoying as fuck most of the time.

“If you weren’t such a baby, maybe I wouldn’t take it easy on you,” I tell him, pressing the pad harder against his cut. He hisses again, followed by a quick chuckle. With my free hand, I grab some antibiotic ointment, applying a small amount over my finger. I remove the alcohol pad and assess the damage. I’m no doctor, but it looks clean enough, so I tap the ointment over his cut.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened tonight?” I ask, lightly pressing more ointment over his cut. I know there’s that old saying less is more, but when it comes to wound care, I say more is better.

“I didn’t intend on telling you about my night. Yet, you have this way of making me do things I wouldn’t normally do,” he mutters, meeting his eyes with my own. I stare into those icy blue orbs, and I just can’t look away. “I had a business meeting on the other side of town. When I was exiting, I saw a situation unfold much like what you experienced. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to harm the man that hurt you, Cinderella, but tonight, I was able to fuck up the bastard who hurt that poor girl. What I witnessed tonight hit close to home, all I could think about was you. It was her, but she was you. You were all I saw tonight.”

For the first time since I’ve known him, I don’t think about his arrogance or sense of entitlement. I think about every word the man sitting before me just uttered, how he witnessed something horrific happening to an innocent girl and stepped in, but more importantly…how he only saw me. There is so much more to Christian than I ever thought. “I didn’t kill the man tonight. I left him bleeding on the pavement, alive – barely. You know what I will do when I get my hands on Matteo Varca, don’t you?”

I nod, knowing that I don’t have to say anything.

“I will kill him for laying a hand on you, and I will make him suffer for hurting you.”

Christian and I stared at each other for a few minutes before I put away the first aid kid, and silence floated around us. I suppose neither of us could figure out what to say. What was there to say? “I want to stay the night.”

“No.”

“Let me, please.” His hand snakes around my neck, a move so precise, he pulls me closer to him. “Allow me to stay here tonight and hold you. Just tonight. One night is all that I’m asking for, just give me this one night.”

I don’t want to say yes, but something about the way his voice is wavering combined with his hot breath hitting my skin tells me I don’t have much choice in the matter. “Fine. One night. That’s all you get, Christian.”

“One night,” he agrees. “Plus, our date, sweetheart. Don’t forget about that, as soon as things settle down, I will let you know exactly what I have planned for us.” Christian rises from the barstool, brushing his lips against my temple. A move that normally I wouldn’t put up with, but tonight, it comforted me.

Christian follows me up to my bedroom. I make him take his shoes off so none of the kids hear him, and like a teenager sneaking around with her high school boyfriend, I shut the door to my bedroom behind him as he comes inside. I turn the light on, enough to where we both can see.

Christian begins stripping his clothes off, his suit jacket, then his dress shirt until he’s left in a blood-stained undershirt. “Whoa…what are you doing!?” I whisper yell at his sudden indecency.

“Taking off my clothes. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly a prude.” He chuckles, smirking as he unbuckles his pants, and I watch as they slide to the floor and land with a thunk.

“I’m not. We… didn’t talk about your attire,” I mumble, redirecting my eyes from the half-naked man who just tore his shirt off like he was straight out of a Magic Mike movie. Dear Lord, and I thought I was erotic when I took my clothes off. I could take some pointers from Christian…

I’m standing here in my Jonas Brothers world tour old T-shirt and a pair of pink cotton short shorts, and he’s…. half-naked. I suddenly feel hot. Maybe I should turn a fan on. I walk towards the left side of the bed where I sleep and slide under the covers hoping that being covered and somewhat out of sight will help. Out of nowhere, I feel the other side of the bed dip, and when I look Christian is there laying down. “Uh, no. This isn’t happening, you sleep there.” I point over to the old chair in the corner of my room, it’s definitely not comfortable and I’ve deemed it my junk drawer.

“No. I sleep where you sleep,” he growls, I glance quickly over at the clock and see it’s almost two. I have absolutely no energy to be arguing with him, so I flip off the light switch to the bedside lamp and settle into my bed.

Arms encase me, and I’m being pulled backwards right against his chest. “This is not what we agreed to,” I complain, reminding him.

“I told you I wanted to hold you, and I damn well will. For once, shut your mouth and just let me do what I want,” he hisses at me, pulling me closer. I feel his lips pressing against the back of my head, his breath hot against my hair. “Why are you constantly on guard all the time?”

Because I have to be, I think to myself.

I make my mind and body relax, knowing very well that I can somehow trust him. I sink back into his embrace, finding my own level of comfort being in his arms. “Don’t get used to this.”

Christian’s laughter was the last thing I remember before the sandman took me.