Julian
MY HEART HAS grown wings and is fluttering like that hummingbird we saw a few minutes ago. Holy shit, I fuckin’ did it.
After removing my helmet, I spin around and shake out my arms as I watch Ashley fly down the zip line. That amazing woman pushed me where I didn’t think I could go.
She screams her joy through the entire descent, her face dominated by a carefree smile that fits her adventurous personality.
“That was fantastic,” she says with exhilaration in her voice as she lands on her butt.
Then I remember her tits. Specifically, what she said about the state of her nipples. And I remember why she said it. To help me overcome my fear.
Before I can think better of it, I haul her up, lean down, and kiss her.
It’s awkward as fuck since she’s still tethered to the zip line and wearing a helmet. But she doesn’t let a bit of climbing equipment stand in the way of reciprocating. She moans into my mouth and throws her arms around my neck. I cup her jaw, my thumbs gliding against the soft patches of skin there. Ashley’s hands grasp the back of my neck, massaging my tension-filled muscles. Heat curls down my spine, and I imagine what it would be like to spread her body on a bed and kiss every tantalizing inch of her, from her temples to her adorably peach-painted toes. Damn, what would it be like to sink into her?
Somehow a voice in the distance pierces through what little level headspace I have left. “Keep it moving, you two,” it bellows.
We spring apart, the dazed expression on Ashley’s face undoubtedly matching mine. A line has formed on the other end of the zip line, and a man with his young child glares at us. Understandable. He probably didn’t expect to have the talk with his little boy while swinging through the woods.
Ashley recovers first and waves at the park employee, yelling back a terse “Sorry!”
Without a word to me, she unclips the cable and descends the short set of stairs that mark the end of the trail.
I plod after her, cursing myself for sending mixed signals. She trots through the clearing that will lead us back to the park entrance, not bothering to wait for me.
“Ash, hang on,” I say.
She doesn’t pause or falter but presses ahead, and I’m forced to sprint to catch up with her.
“Ash, stop.”
She pretends not to hear me.
I run fast enough to surpass her, then I block her path. “Ash, please. Stop. I’m sorry.”
She raises her chin and regards me with sad eyes. “You’re not being fair, Julian. I can’t keep up with you. One minute you’re adamant that we shouldn’t act on our attraction. The next minute you’re snaking your tongue down my throat.” Her eyes go wide as soon as the words are out, and she presses her fingers against her temples, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “Dammit.” She narrows her eyes on me. “Did your brain go there, too? Because I just envisioned something longer and thicker than a snake.”
I drop my head into my chest and laugh so heartily my chest rumbles. “Yeah, my mind went there. You’re a bad influence.”
“It is longer and thicker than a snake, right? I’m asking for science.”
“Well, it’s not boa constrictor thick, but it’s not a garden snake, either.” I shake my head. “How’d we come to this?”
She snorts. “We should both stop talking. It’s safer that way.”
I take one of her hands and squeeze it. “The adrenaline took over. And I loved that you helped me through the worst of it. I got so caught up in the moment, I didn’t think it through. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s just . . . it’s hard to keep this straight in my head. I know I was a participant, too, but let the record show that you came at me first.”
I throw up my hands, fully prepared to accept my part in this. “You’ll get no argument from me. I—”
“Hey, you two,” Tori says, walking up to us with Carter and Eva trudging behind her. “You’re supposed to be climbing, not talking each other’s heads off.”
“Where’s Anthony?” I ask. In truth, I’m grateful for the interruption because it’s getting harder and harder to rationalize my conflicted feelings.
“I chewed him up and spat him out on the trail,” Eva says.
Tori rolls her eyes. “He’s using the restroom. What are you doing over here?”
“We just finished,” Ashley says. “I wasn’t feeling the height on that one, so we decided to take the blue trail.”
I’m not letting her fake this for me. “Actually, I wasn’t the one feeling the height on the green trail. She took pity on me.”
Tori, Eva, and Ashley link arms and head down the gravel-filled path.
Carter hangs back. “You’re not good with heights, J?”
“Not like this, no,” I reply.
“Well, what do you know. Every superman has his kryptonite, I guess.”
He’s right about that. Except my true kryptonite is his baby sister.
In other words, I’m fucked.
AFTER A QUICK stop at the cottage to pick up Bianca and Lydia, the group splits into two cars for the ride to the spa: Carter and I take his rental, and Kimberly drives the women in her minivan. Anthony begs off joining us, claiming he wants time to catch up with his aunt and uncle, but given the way he glared at Eva when he climbed out of the car, I suspect he’s using his relatives as an excuse.
According to Carter, a hefty payment ensures both the spa’s discretion and private accommodations. We even enter through a side door, and the staff whisks away the women before Carter and I settle on our services.
Fifteen minutes later, Carter and I are in the steam room, sitting across from each other and wearing white towels around our waists.
“So you ready for the big day?” I ask him.
He slaps a hand on his stomach and leans against the tile wall behind him. “More than ready, J. She’s my heart. And she makes everything better. My day is brighter with her in it. Sleep is better. Shit, life is better, period. And I almost fucked it up. But now we’re together, and I’ll be able to call her my wife in less than forty-eight hours.”
I sit back and close my eyes, breathing in the hot, sticky air and enjoying the way it’s easing the tension in my muscles. “I’m happy for you, man.”
And I truly am. Carter doesn’t let many people into his life, but I’m glad he opened his heart to Tori. She keeps him grounded, and I know I can count on her to have his back, too.
He chuckles. “Be honest, though. It’s killing you that we’re not making a splash of our wedding, isn’t it? You probably cried a few tears for the lost opportunity to turn this into the event of the season.”
“I won’t lie. I did cry a few tears. On the inside. But being your agent comes second to being your friend, and at the end of the day I want you to be happy. If this is what it took, then I’ll support you one hundred percent.” I listen for a response. Carter’s steady breathing makes me wonder if he’s fallen asleep on me. “You still with me over there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. It’s just . . .” He leans on his thighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before he speaks. “When we told you about the wedding and we had that . . . moment at your place, I realized how your role as my agent could cause a rift between us. And I know I give you a lot of shit about your need to separate your work and personal lives, so I just wanted to tell you that I get it now. We’re family, but we’re business partners, too. It’s a balance, and I want to thank you for making sure we don’t tip the scales in a direction that could fuck this up.”
I smile at him, but inside I’m sighing. “Sure.”
He’s right, of course. I’ve done an admirable job keeping my work and social relationships from blending. It’s the reason Carter and I have worked together this long without killing each other. But there’s a woman somewhere in this spa who could upset the status quo, and every moment I spend with her makes me want to tilt the scale in favor of spending all my personal time with her.
“Everything all right with you and Ashley?” he asks. “I’m not sure your charade had the intended effect.”
“You’re right about that, but unless we want to own up to the lie, we’re stuck with it until Sunday. It’s not a big deal. We’re adults, and we know how to handle ourselves in this situation.”
My monologue hangs in the air, a warning to back off even to my own ears. Because despite my discomfort with the subtext of this conversation, I know I’m right. Ashley and I don’t need anyone’s help resolving the situation. We can tie ourselves in knots just fine on our own.
“No need to get defensive. I trust your judgment, so I’ll let you two work it out.” He chuckles. “I have to say it’s been surprisingly entertaining watching you pretend to be interested in her.”
I laugh it off and slide to the edge of the bench, my legs crossed at the ankles.
Little does he know there’s no pretending involved.
AFTER A LATE dinner with the family, “the whippersnappers,” as Susan has dubbed us, return to the cottage. Ashley and I haven’t talked much since the zip-lining episode, just a little back rubbing and hand holding to keep up appearances, so I’m anxious about tonight. When we’re finally alone together in the room, it’s clear I had good reason to be concerned. She flinches at my every movement, as if she’s poised to take flight if I get close to her. My conversation with Carter this afternoon left me just as tense, so I know exactly how she feels. But I can make this easy on us both by putting some distance between us. “Listen, I’m thinking it might be a good idea for me to sleep out on the couch tonight. I can go out there after everyone’s gone to bed, and then I’ll sneak in here early in the morning.”
I expect her to protest, but she flops down into the rocking chair, sagging in relief. Then she blows out a breath, and with her eyes shiny and bright, nods. “Okay, yes. I think that makes sense. It’ll make things less awkward, you know?”
“Yeah.”
She runs her hands over her thighs, smoothing the creases in her shorts, and her gaze darts around the room until it lands on her guitar case.
“You need some time alone with Melanie, don’t you?”
She jerks her head back, and her lovely mouth falls open. “How’d you know?”
“I know you.”
She wears a thoughtful expression, her mind somewhere beyond this room. “Not many people do.”
“I know that, too.”
She pouts at me and shakes her head in frustration. “I liked you so much better when you were my teenage fantasy or a tasty piece of eye candy.”
“And now you’re lying.”
She jumps up from the chair, grabs a pillow, and throws it across the room, aiming for my head. “Get out. And stay out. We have no room for irresistible men who will make our lives more complicated.”
I dodge the pillow easily and lob it back at her, but I miss my mark. “Okay, I’ll leave you alone with your precious guitar. I need to make a few calls anyway.”
She laughs and heads into the bathroom. Before she closes the door, she pokes her head out. “Enjoy the sofa.” And then she disappears.
“You’re going to miss me, admit it,” I call after her.
She peeks out again and sticks out her tongue. “I’ll admit it. Now go.”
I haven’t had this much fun with a woman in a long time. It’s fucking addictive.
I JERK AWAKE, unsure what interrupted my X-rated dream about my best friend’s sister. But I solve the mystery within seconds, opening my eyes to a pajama-clad Lydia standing by the couch. Suddenly I’m wondering if I’m trapped in a horror movie.
“Hey,” she whispers.
She says this as though it’s unremarkable to be hovering around me while I sleep.
I run a hand down my face and sit up. “Everything okay? What’s up?”
She places her hands at her hips. “What’s up? That’s my question.” She waggles her eyebrows and lifts her chin in the direction of the bedroom where Ashley and I are staying. “Trouble in paradise?”
There’s no mistaking the hopeful gleam in her eyes and the happy curve of her lips. Think, Julian. Think. Why would I be out here if Ashley and I aren’t fighting?
“No, not at all,” I say, my gaze jumping around the room. A print copy of The Hollywood Observer saves me. Pointing to it on the coffee table, I explain, “I . . . uh . . . I wanted to read a bit.” After lifting the paper, I rise and stretch. “The light was bothering her. I guess I fell asleep.”
Hearing this, Lydia drops her shoulders and her smile slips. “Oh, okay. I’m going to make some tea. Want some?”
“No, thanks.”
“Well, good night, then.”
“Good night,” I reply.
And then she just stands there, waiting for me to go into the bedroom, which I do—reluctantly, I might add—because what else can I do?
I open the door softly and tiptoe in. Not surprisingly, it’s dark in here. The moon’s glow coming through the window casts shadows in the sparsely decorated room. I squint to make out the shapes of the furniture and hear the bedsheets rustle. Still as a statue, my eyes survey the scene, adjusting to the dimness of my surroundings. My gaze travels over the bed, registering that one of Ashley’s arms—the source of the rustling—is hidden under the covers. My heart gallops in my chest, and my breath quickens. She’s not doing what I think she’s doing, is she? No fucking way. This must be a continuation of my dirty dream.
In a fog, I take a step back, ready to bolt out of the room, and reach behind me for the doorknob. Then it happens. With her other arm stretched behind her and her eyes squeezed tight, Ashley lifts her head off the pillow, shudders, and releases the softest of gasps. “Julian.”
Damn, damn, damn. Not a dream at all. She’s thinking about me and getting herself off. I buckle from the pleasure and pain of witnessing it. Of their own volition, my lips part, depriving me of time to filter my words. “Oh, fuck, that’s hot.”