“When are you going to introduce me to your mom?”
Mateo blinked his eyes open to find Heather propped up on her side, gazing at him.
“You serious?”
Lazily, she traced the tip of her finger around the curve of his ear. “Of course, silly. Why else would I ask?”
Mateo gazed up at the beaded chandelier hanging over the foot of the bed and tried to imagine such a thing. The vision didn’t get very far before it fell apart.
Heather hummed quietly with a hint of impatience, letting him know she was waiting for an answer.
“My mom’s pretty simple.” Mateo regretted the words the second they left his lips. Still, it was true. His mom was hardworking and down-to-earth. And while he knew she’d be nice and polite (she was that way with everyone), the first thing she’d ask once Heather was gone was if he’d lost his mind bringing home such a frivolous girl.
“Are you saying I’m not simple?”
Mateo glanced her way. “Simple is not a word I’d use to describe you.”
“Hmmm . . .” Her bottom lip nudged forward as the corners of her mouth tugged into a full-blown pout. “So what words would you use?”
He took his time to consider. He was wading into dangerous waters, where anything he said could, and most likely would, be used against him. “Driven, perfectionist, successful, self-motivated . . .” It seemed like a solid list to him, but before he could finish, Heather heaved a dramatic sigh and made a point of rolling her eyes.
“All wonderful traits in a job interview, sure. But isn’t there something else you might want to add? Maybe something like, oh, I don’t know, something more to do with my physical attributes. Like the way I look, perhaps?” She inched the sheet lower to refresh his memory. “’Cause it seems like you’ve already forgotten. Then again, it was nearly an hour since we last . . .” She grinned and slithered closer, rendering Mateo unable to resist her.
At some point, he knew he had to put an end to whatever it was they were doing. He’d planned on doing exactly that just after they’d left RED. But then they’d grabbed dinner, and headed back to her place, and before he knew it, they were in bed together. If he hadn’t seen the point in resisting her then, he saw absolutely no point in starting now. Next thing he knew he was kissing her.
He guessed they were in a relationship, since he wasn’t seeing anyone else, and as far as he knew, neither was she. But it was undefined and could end at any point. While he’d miss certain things, he wouldn’t necessarily miss her. He didn’t kid himself into thinking they’d share a future together. And he’d certainly never taken her seriously enough to consider bringing her home to his mother. To his surprise, Heather took it a lot more seriously than he did.
Or maybe she was just playing him. It was impossible to tell sometimes where the actress left off and the person began.
All he knew was at that particular moment, with her talented hands wrapped around him, none of those things really mattered. He was merely open to receiving whatever she was willing to give.
“So,” she murmured, her lips trailing the length of his torso. “Now that you’ve had some time to think about it, is there anything else you want to add to that list?”
She paused, her lips parted, just shy of her hands.
In a hoarse voice, he said, “How about irresistible—does that work?”
Heather flashed a seductive grin. “It’s a good start.” She tipped her tongue toward him. “Anything else?”
He forced himself to think, but it was hard to stay focused when she teased him like that. “Beautiful. Hot. Smokin’.”
“I like those too. . . .” She swirled her tongue over his flesh.
“Sexiest fucking girl on the planet,” he groaned.
Heather laughed softly. “You’re about to be richly rewarded.”
Mateo closed his eyes and sank back onto a pile of pillows as Heather made good on her promise.
Still wet from the shower with a plush blue towel wrapped low on his hips, Mateo went in search of his clothes.
He was heading into the den, remembering how they’d drifted from the couch to Heather’s bed, when he found himself face-to-face with a girl he didn’t recognize.
“Oh, hey. Sorry.” Her eyes traveled from his face to his feet, then back up again, leisurely drinking him in. “I didn’t realize you were still here.”
Mateo stood awkwardly, unsure what to do.
“I’m Emily. Heather’s assistant.” She thrust a hand forward, then quickly retracted it when she saw Mateo struggle to keep his towel from falling. “Anyway, um . . .” Her gaze lingered on the place where he ended and the towel began. “I’m guessing those are yours?”
She was blatantly staring, and at first Mateo thought she was referring to his abs, but then he noticed she’d hooked a thumb over her shoulder, motioning toward a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that had been neatly folded and placed on the same couch where Heather had yanked them off the night before.
Emily moved to retrieve them and quickly handed them over. He balanced the pile in one hand and held it before him, while he kept his towel in place with the other.
“Heather ran out for a bit. I guess you were in the shower when she left, going by . . .” She made a vague gesture toward the beads of water still clinging to his shoulders and chest.
“Is everything okay?” he asked in confusion. Just after climbing out of bed, they’d made plans to grab breakfast before he went to the hospital to see Valentina. It seemed strange that Heather would leave without telling him.
“What?” Emily forced herself to look away from his body and focus on his face. “Yeah, I mean, I guess. Do you remember Madison’s dog, Blue?”
Mateo shrugged. Layla might’ve mentioned it. But back then, he was so sick of all the Madison-related drama, he’d ignored most of what she’d told him.
“Well, I’ve been taking care of him. I guess I grew attached. Heather too. Then from out of nowhere, Paul calls to say he wants him back.”
“Paul?” Mateo knew exactly who Paul was.
Emily frowned. “Legally, I know I have no right to keep him, but I’m not sure Paul does either. Have you ever met him, Paul, I mean?”
Mateo shook his head.
“Well, he’s pretty scary. Not in the way he looks. In that department, he’s beyond basic—all lumpy and beige, like a piece of cardboard left out in the rain. It’s more in his attitude. There’s just something vaguely threatening about him. Madison adored him, though. He’s the only one she really trusted. But I never liked being around him. And honestly—” She lowered her voice and leaned closer. “I’m still not convinced that whatever happened to Madison isn’t his fault.” Her gaze held steady on his. “But, please don’t tell anyone I said that. I don’t want to get involved. I prefer to steer clear of anything having to do with it at this point. I mean, look what happened to your girlfriend.”
Mateo was taken aback, wondering what she meant.
“Sorry, I mean ex-girlfriend, Layla. Anyway.” Emily shook her head and flushed in embarrassment. “Heather was so upset when I told her about my meeting with Paul that she decided to go in my place. That’s why she ran out of here without telling you. Hopefully she’ll succeed and we can keep Blue.” She ran a knowing gaze over Mateo. “God knows she’s a master at getting whatever she wants.”
The smile she flashed him saw Mateo mumbling a quick good-bye and retreating to Heather’s room. He dressed in a hurry and was about to leave, when he decided to jot a quick note. Not a breakup note—since they weren’t exactly a couple, there was no relationship to break. But it was time to put some distance between them. And though Mateo hated to admit it, it was a lot easier for him to do that when Heather wasn’t in front of him.
Heather was fun, and he’d meant what he said when he told her she was sexy as hell. But aside from their mutual lust, he didn’t feel any real and lasting connection to her. He’d thank her for all that she’d done on his behalf, and avoid making mention of possibly meeting again.
He’d just found a pen and was searching for paper, when a picture slid free from a binder and swooped onto her desk.
Speechless, Mateo desperately searched his mind for a way to explain the photo now lying before him.
It was a picture of Layla, standing in the middle of the Jewel dance floor, kissing Tommy.
Mateo instantly recognized it as the same picture someone had anonymously sent to his phone, which had prompted him and Layla to split.
So what was Heather doing with it—unless she was the one who sent it?
Did she manipulate their breakup just so she could move in on him?
He was trying to decide what to do when his phone chimed with an incoming text.
So sorry I had to run. Promise to make it up to you!
Attached was a photo of Heather’s promise.
Mateo glanced between his cell and the picture on the desk, wondering what the hell kind of mess he’d gotten himself into.
Instead of leaving a note, he slipped the picture back inside the binder and quietly let himself out.