Luckily, my nipples aren’t showing and I don’t have any cleavage to show off. But I still flush pink, a deeper pink than my blouse, from the heat of the embarrassment.
As I try to button up as fast as I can, Taylor laughs. “And you thought I was being unprofessional?”
I give him a wicked grin.
“Hey, you ever have dirty thoughts about me?” He asks, which surprisingly shoots a thrill up my spine and I stiffen to contain my inappropriate mind. “With all the pictures you inspect and post, do you ever think about...” He scoots his chair closer and points to himself—his firm, naked chest.
“It’s my job to always think about you.” I wish I could scoot away. I’m getting hot. I need air.
“I mean, do you ever fantasize about me? And I don’t’ mean dancing or about my image. Besides all that, do you ever think about me doing things to you?”
“I don’t… I…” I shake my head, looping the last button and coming to my senses.
Why is he asking? As if I would ever admit to dreaming about Taylor and me together physically.
“No.”
“Woman, do you ever use the word yes? I can recall the numerous times you said ‘no’ on the bus. You really should use the word ‘yes’ more often.”
“I use the word, yes.”
“Oh, do you?”
“Yes.” I give him a mean face. “See?”
“Can you say that again?”
“Yes.”
“So, you’re going to meet tonight, right?” He cocks up his chin. “Say ‘yes’ one more time.”
My heart is about to implode. He’s actually cute with how cocky and stubborn he is.
He’s so irresistible, it’s ridiculous.
Should I have expected anything less?
I swing my legs at the knees. It’s truly unfortunate that I must say, “No, Taylor. I'm sorry, I can’t. Really. I just can’t.”
He sits up straighter, eyes glinting. “Listen, you’re wearing me out. You know, I’m not going to keep asking.”
“You shouldn’t. It’s not…” I’m searching for a good reason beyond the truth. “It’s not professional. Speaking of which we need to return to the topic of the images Diamond posted of you yesterday.”
“None of that bothers me.” His butt slides down in the chair as he relaxes.
“Good, I’m glad and I should tell you the pictures came down after I reported them as inappropriate, but I want to be clear that you should continue to do as you had done.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Exactly. No response is the best response when it comes to stuff like that. So, if anything bad should ever get posted again, I want you to do nothing. Just remember I’m your social marketing manager. If you’re ever unsure about anything— your image, comments made about you, any indecent content— you should always come to me first and I’ll take care of it. I’ll always take care of you.”
Taylor turns his head, giving me a zombie-like stare. It’s baffling. The look on his face says he might be upset, until he spits out, “You’re fucking adorable, do you know that?”
Oh shit!
Taylor reaches between his legs, grabs his chair, and scoots closer so our chairs touch.
He leans in, eyes beaming. “What is so wrong that you won’t go out with me?”
I break our eye contact. “There’s nothing wrong.”
“Clearly, you think there’s something wrong with me if you won’t go out with me.”
“Taylor, believe me. You’re perfect. You’re... Taylor Rose. Even football players crush on Taylor Rose.”
His breath blows heavy on my neck and then in my ear as he leans in even further and plants his chin atop my shoulder. “If I’m so perfect, then why are you having such a hard time saying yes.”
Because I’m not perfect! Damn it, I wish I could just tell him.
I swallow the urge to turn and look at him. With just a slight twist of my neck, our face—our lips—could be touching. I also don’t understand why he’s acting so interested.
On second thought, I think I do.
I’m probably the first girl that’s ever turned him down. Somehow, I need to set him straight, so he won’t keep pestering me.
“It’s not appropriate for us to hang out, Taylor, because this is my job. I was lucky. In fact, it felt like fate when my boss assigned this account to me, especially since I was fresh out of college. I swear this is nothing against you. You’re amazing. I just need to keep things simple and professional. Please, I really just want to work for you. With you. The point of this meeting was to also discuss the opportunity for you and me to have our own photoshoot. I’m an excellent photographer and I’d love to take some pictures of you and test some new marketing concepts. I also want to understand your ambitions and goals.” I adjust my spine, sitting up straight, and look him in the eyes. “I’d like to get to know you personally, so we are in sync with the persona we choose to share with your fans.”
He sounds pissed as he scoots back. “You want to keep working with me, huh?”
I nod. “Very much, yes.”
“That’s fine, but if you want to get personal with me, then you need to learn how to dance, Rosie.”
My spine feels weak and I kick myself. How do I tell him I can’t dance?
He gets up, kicking his chair back, which falls over. He pulls down his sweatpants, taking it off before he points in my face. “Tomorrow. At five in the morning. I expect you here in the studio and if you perform well, do as you’re expected, I’ll let you take some pictures of me.”
My body slumps. I feel so heavy. “Taylor, I understand you’re upset—”
“I’m not upset. I could never be upset with one of my biggest fans, one of my... Rosies.” His rolls his eyes.
Ouch! Rosie is obviously the name he gives his groupies, but as it turns out that was also one of the points I wanted to touch on during this meeting.
“Is there any way you could put me in touch with the other Rosies? Your groupies? Girls who are always ready and waiting in the wing for...” I clear my throat, sitting up straight.
“For what?” he questions.
“For sex with you.”
“Are you serious?” His tone says he’s not amused.
“Well, yes.” I cast a smile as best I can although I’m really aching inside knowing he considers me a Rosie, i.e. just another member of his fan club. “I need better access to insights from them since they are essentially your superfans. If you’ll let me contact them personally, I could send an invite to chat online and send them surveys and what not. It would really help me boost your—”
“That’s not going to work,” he says, skimming his hands over his abs which flex as his thigh muscles twitch.
I look to the floor, bowing my head. I’m desperate to fan myself, I’m so hot. This is why we’re called superfans!
“It’ll work, Taylor. I need test subjects for marketing strategies.”
“I can’t give you access to the other Rosies, so I’m sorry. You won’t be testing anyone.”
“Taylor, if you’re worried that I’ll interfere with your activities—nightly activities—I swear—”
“I’m not worried,” he says, opening the door and cocking his head back with a raised brow. “Why would I care to worry about my Rosies. Isn’t that your job?”
“Yes,” I mutter.
“Good,” he takes a step through the door frame, “because I don’t care to worry about any of that stuff. And besides,” he shuffles with the door as he exits, “there’s only one Rosie.”
5
Rerun
“He said that!” Ben misses the shot glasses. He’s so excited, he’s spilled a little liquor onto the bar counter.
“He did.” I nod, grabbing my virgin Shirley Temple and taking a swig.
Ben hands the shots he’s been pouring for a guy, who hands over some dollar bills. The two men nod to one another before the shots are carried away through Club Ma
x, the most popular club in town.
“See that?” Ben fans the cash showing me the amount.
We both pout. “No tip.”
The burly bartender blurts, “Fucker! That guy will definitely need a designated driver tonight,” he says, grabbing a bar rag to wipe the spilled tequila.
“Oh? Are you planning to spike up his drinks?” I ask him, my best friend.
“Nope, that guy will be drinking my piss for the rest of the night. He’s going to be sick.”
“Yikes.” I gag. “You’d really do that?”
Ben scratches his trimmed, dark bristly beard, and chuckles. “No, Ree, but I might mix some glass cleaner or battery acid in whatever he orders if he comes back.”
“Give it to him,” I encourage. “And give me another Shirley Temple.”
Ben runs his large fingers through his fine curly ash-brown hair. He’s so handsome. And so thick. He is the opposite of Taylor, who is lean. Whereas Ben is a bear—brawny and looks like he’s been stuffed to the brim with muscle and just a little bit of roundness in his gut, Taylor looks to also have been stuffed but then chiseled. They are both well-crafted men and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to wondering what it would be like to get between them...
Both...
At the same time.
Like that would ever happen.
Truthfully, I’m not that kind of girl, but I’ve thought about it.
They both have a broody mood about them as if they’re hiding something. It’s so mysterious and alluring. I don’t stand a chance with either of them considering I’m not Ben or Taylor’s type. The only reason Taylor’s been pursuing me is because I said “no” to him, which has made him curious. The man likes a challenge. But I don’t believe he’s gotten a full picture of me yet and when he does, I’m confident he’ll quit pestering.
“I wish I could make you a lil’ special somethin’ somethin’.” Ben winks. He just started working at this place and I’m sure he wants to show off. “You sure you can’t have any alcohol?”
“Not today, Ben.”
“Meds?”
“Meds.”
“Awh, shit,” says Ben, throwing the rag down on the counter. “She’s here. She must’ve heard I work here. Damn it! Kiss me, Ree.”
“What?”
“I said kiss me,” Ben leans forward over the bar with a juicy pucker.
“Ben, no!” I shout, covering his mouth.
“Ree, c’mon. That chick won’t leave me the hell alone. She doesn’t know how to take ‘no’ for an answer and she certainly doesn’t know how to accept the truth of things. I’ve told her a million times, I’m not into her. You’re my last hope. Pleeease. Kiss me. Save me. I went as far as making the mistake of telling her I have a girlfriend, thinking maybe then she’ll...”
“You did what!”
Ben shrugs.
Spinning my head back, I see at least a hundred club patrons. It’s still early. It’s only 9 p.m., so the large club is rather empty. The music has yet to reach its maximum decibel level, which will occur right before midnight—the time at which this Cinderella will already be at home, snuggling her soft pillows, and dreaming of Taylor Rose cuddled next to her in bed.
I see her. Jasmaine—the woman who’s been stalking Ben.
She’s so pretty. Big hazel-green eyes, long, wavy blonde hair. She’s a perfect hourglass with heavy tits and legs taller than the Eiffel Tower. Even her feet are cute. I don’t understand why she wants Ben so badly. He’s a big challenge for her I guess like I am to Taylor. The beautiful people have no idea how to take “no” for an answer.
She sees me, glances at Ben, and then snickers at me.
“Now,” demands Ben. “Kiss me now before the stalker gets closer.”
“But Ben, I’ve never—”
“Hurry up!”
Ben leans in further and puckers big fat fleshy fish lips at me while closing his eyes.
“Err,” I grumble, planting a quick peck on his cheek.
Ben backs away, searching for Jasmaine. “She’s still coming! Ree, you’re going to have to do better than that.” He jumps up and down, waving his arms to lure me in. “C’mon, girl! Lay it on me. I’m not gonna bite you. Kiss me. On the lips, this time. We need to make it look magical. A magical moment.” Ben puckers up again and I can’t believe I’m honestly hating the fact that I’m compelled to lean in and close the space between us...
Because I feel obligated?
Because he’s my only true friend?
Do you know that part in every fairytale when the princess gets to kiss the prince and all spells are broken and everything is revealed as things ought to be, which is two people magically saved of their curses by true love?
This. Isn’t one. Of those moments.
Instead, this is the moment I lean in and experience the worst kiss of my life, which also happens to be my first kiss. My first romantic encounter and...
It’s pure horror.
Ben is a prince. He’s royalty to me. There’s no doubt about that, but there’s no spark, no fireworks, no I’m-going-to-suck-the-life-out-you-because-I-can’t-live-without you-and-I’d-rather-die-than-escape-this-kiss type of feeling.
There’s no magic. Only a trail of eewy gooey wet spit is left on our lips and we are both near gagging, trying to wipe the disgusting friend juice away.
Not to mention, there’s also Taylor, standing to the side, watching with a scowl. My heart palpitates but its painful. I didn’t notice he’d arrived. He seems to look equally disgusted with beady eyes and lips pursed to the side.
Taylor scratches his forehead before he puts his hands in his pockets, cocking his back and adjusting his stance to come taller, staring at me.
I don’t know why, but now he looks pissed. He shouldn’t be. He’s got three women hanging over his shoulders. One is even massaging his neck from behind. She even lifts the collar to his black dress shirt, fixing it when she realizes she’s depressed the upper fold.
“All right. It looks like Jasmaine might be taking the hint. She’s stopped heading this way but she’s still looking. Maybe we should kiss again,” suggests Ben, leaning closer over the bar.
“I can’t,” I tell him. “We can’t kiss.”
“Why? You think I got cooties. You already kissed me. It’s too late,” he jokes.
“No, look. It’s him.” I cock my head in Taylor’s direction.
Ben jerks in surprise. “Jesus Christ! He really is something, isn’t he?”
“Yep.” I take another few swigs of my Shirley Temple as Ben studies Taylor.
“Wow. Taylor Rose. He keeps looking at us. Well... he’s looking at you, Ree. I seem to be only worthy of a little flash fury now and then. If looks could kill... My. God.” Ben shakes his head. “Maybe I should go talk to him. Explain things. It’s obvious the guy is into you.”
“He’s not into me, Ben. Look at all the women around him.”
“Yeah, but he’s not looking at them or the half dozen gay men surrounding him. He’s looking at you. If he asks you out again, Ree, you need to say ‘yes.’ I’ll be back.”
“No!... Ben!” I speak sharply through gritted teeth, wishing I could just hop over the counter to stop my friend.
I try not to look, but my eyes are behaving disobediently. Two of my most favored men in all the world—the men I live for, the men I worship, the men I love—are talking to one another.
Am I dreaming?
They are both leaning over opposite ends of the bar to speak in each other’s ear. Taylor still won’t keep his eyes off of me and he’s starting to smile. His lashes flutter faster as more of his perfect square white teeth are put out on display.
I look in my lap, swinging my foot. I should’ve been clearer with Ben that Taylor is way too far out of my league and that I’m probably just a silly conquest to him. Taylor still has yet to call me by my name and I wonder if he even bothers to recollect what it is though it’s at the bottom of all my emails.
I pee
p back.
Damn it! He’s coming.
Taylor pulls and tosses the hand of one of the women who is clinging to his shoulder. He grabs another woman by the hips. Her face beams with delight, but quickly she frowns as he pushes her aside to clear his path.
I drop my gaze, letting my head fall forward to hide my face between my short strawberry locks, and damn it! The straw to my Shirley Temple nearly goes all the way up my nostril.
“Ugh.” I wipe my nose of cherry mixed with lime soda and push my drink away as I sense someone, a special someone, approach from behind.
He smells sexy—a familiar sweet sweat mixed with an intoxicating cologne, which makes me think of leather and coriander.
Oh. God. He gently smooths his fingers and then flattens his palm across my lower back. The slight press shoots an electrical pulse through my body and not only does the twitch I felt on the bus return excitedly between my legs but this time my whole body feels electrified. I’m about to combust when he sweeps my hair off my cheek to speak hot in my ear.
“Hi, Rosie.”
6
Taylor
“Hi,” she says, tensing up under my touch.
I rub her back in a small circle, which only seems to make her stiffen up more. In fact, she looks ill since I came over.
I reluctantly remove my hand.
“How are you?” she asks with a soft glance.
“Huh?” I lean in, pretending I can’t hear her through the music blaring.
She raises her voice. “I asked, how are you?” She yells so loud pain shreds through my eardrum and I want to return the question with a hard nip on her little earlobe.
“You sound so formal,” I respond. “You saw me naked today. We’re closer than friends. We can dispense with formalities.”
“We’re not exactly friends, Taylor. In many ways, you’re like my boss. What am I supposed to say?” She finally locks eyes with me.
“Oh, I don’t know. How about... Hmm... Taylor, it’s been a whole day since I last saw you. Naked. I’ve missed you and your nakedness and I’d love to see you naked again but not until after you take me out on the dance floor and show me a good time.”
The Kisser Page 5