Dr. Hottie

by Vivian Wood

  Now, staring up at the huge mansion that was before them, she wasn't so sure she really wanted to be here. However, Mary and the other girls were already practically running for the house, and there was no way she was staying out here alone, so she reluctantly followed them inside.

  6

  Great. She was alone. Exactly what she hadn't wanted.

  Ashley and the other girl – whose name Serena really couldn't remember – had pretty much made a run for the gigantic infinity pool and jumped in fully clothed as soon as they had arrived.

  Mary had wandered around with her at first, but had been invited to dance by a really cute guy. At least she'd had the decency to shoot Serena an apologetic look before following him to the dance floor.

  The sprawling lawns behind the huge walls and the gate they arrived through were divided by a driveway that seemed wide enough for a jumbo jet to land. Maybe that's what rock stars did. Maybe they took jumbo jets everywhere...

  The drive led directly to an impressive set of double doors, which were wide open as people spilled out of them freely. Once inside, Serena had gotten her first look at the opulence of the place. The mansion had a floating staircase she thought couldn't possibly lead to more house. Although it must have, because from the outside she had counted three stories.

  Directly behind the great room was a patio the size of her parents' house. Well, maybe that was a slight exaggeration, but not by much. At the very end was a pool that contained at least thirty people at the moment.

  The partygoers were all beautiful people who made her feel extraordinarily out of place.

  Loud music blared from unseen speakers, and every kind of alcohol she could immediately think of was being passed around.

  She had walked through the house after having lost Mary to the dance floor, taking in the spectacular clothing worn by all the beautiful people. Her mouth dried up a little as she took in all the luxurious designer duds around her, as far as the eye could see.

  Men and women were dressed equally impressively by her count.

  She had even spotted one girl earlier wearing a dress that, to the best of her knowledge, was only going to be available in the most exclusive designer boutiques next month. Gah!

  In her marveling over the varied designer garb of the attendees, she walked into a wall. She really hoped no one noticed. Luckily, she was out of the main party area and had been keeping to less populated areas.

  This wall, however, smelled really good. And it seemed to have... moved a little, on impact?

  Not a wall, she realized, a man. A man with the greenest eyes she had ever seen, smooth dark wavy hair cascading down to his shoulders, and a face that was just... ah, staring at her with a mixture of concern and mild irritation.

  She could feel the heat spreading from her cheeks and lighting up her face as she blushed like a complete idiot, frozen in place.

  “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. To walking anyway. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  The irritation on his face gave way to something else, or at least, she thought it did. She didn't know this man from a bar of soap, so who was she to analyze his facial expressions?

  “Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?” he asked, in the most beautiful, deep melodic voice she had ever heard. Now that she'd had a chance to look at him for a second, she realized that he looked vaguely familiar. Had they met before?

  “Yeah, I'm okay. I'm so sorry. I just don't know anyone here. My friends disappeared into the pool and the crowd, and then I was just admiring what everyone was wearing and trying to find somewhere...” She stopped then, realizing she was rambling and that he definitely wouldn't be interested in what she was doing.

  “Don't know anyone here, huh?” He actually looked a little bit amused now. There she went again, analyzing a stranger's facial expressions. Idiot. He seemed to have emphasized the “any” part of the word anyone, and it dawned on her that she had mentioned, in the same sentence no less, that she had lost her friends. So technically, she did know someone. Three someones, to be exact.

  “Uh, I’m sorry. I meant I don’t know anyone other than my three lost friends.”

  “That so?”

  “Yup. And I managed to lose all three just about thirty seconds after we got here. I’m Serena, by the way. Sorry again. I’ll look where I’m going from now on. Maybe just crash in the corner until my friends find me to avoid causing any more damage to anyone,” she rambled on again.

  “Rhys. It's nice to meet you. Serena, was it?” He seemed to be waiting for something, though she didn't know what, so she just nodded to confirm her name.

  “How'd you end up here, Serena? You don't seem like the kind of girl that usually ends up at these parties.” He extended his hand toward her, and she automatically reached out to shake it.

  She should have probably felt insulted at his insinuation about the type of girl she was, but she wasn't.

  Her entire being was too busy being focused on the warm hand in hers and the buzz that was spreading like fire through her entire body. Although she didn't see any actual sparks flying from their joined hands, at least she finally understood the analogy.

  “Nice to meet you, Rhys.” She reminded herself to stop staring at those mesmerizing eyes, his strong jawline, the black lines of a tattoo that disappeared under his black V-neck shirt...

  “So,” she grudgingly let go of his hand and forced herself to stop her borderline pervy inspection of him. “How'd you end up here?”

  “I get around,” he replied with a curious smile on his face. A smile that could probably drop the panties of every beautiful girl at the party in ten seconds flat. She might not have been one of the beautiful people at the party, but her panties definitely felt ready to drop. Pathetic, she knew.

  “Okay, Mr. Get Around. What’s this band like? In your official capacity as someone who gets around, are they all they're cracked up to be? And if this is their party, where are they, anyway?”

  This time, he actually let out an easy laugh before he answered, ”They're around, I guess. So, I take it you're not a fan?”

  “Not really. I mean, I don’t think so. I mostly listened to classical music growing up. Lately, I’ve been venturing into pop a bit but I haven’t really quite made it all the way to rock yet.”

  He laughed again. Though she wasn't sure why he was laughing, she wanted to figure it out and make him laugh as much as she could, for as long as she could. She was pretty sure there was no better sight – or sound, for that matter – anywhere on this, or any other planet, than this man laughing.

  “Okay, if you want to know if Misery is all it's cracked up to be, come with me.” He grabbed her hand without waiting for an answer and led her up the floating staircase, still chuckling as they climbed all the way to the top floor. Serena thrilled a little at the return of the full body buzzing sensation that had started up again once he took her hand in his.

  It was quieter up here, but there were still people roaming around on the second floor. The sounds coming from some of the rooms they passed gave her a pretty good idea of where the band was. He didn't hesitate as he led her confidently up the stairs to the third story.

  Once there, he led her to a door at the very end of the hallway. It was pretty much just the two of them now. “You're sure we're allowed to be up here?” she asked skeptically.

  “Yeah, sure, the guys are – uh – friends of mine.” His face wore an amused expression as he murmured the words.

  He stepped through the door he had opened like he owned the place, and she followed him into a small, sparsely decorated room.

  He'd seemed confident enough on the climb up and no one had stopped or questioned him, so she guessed it was okay to be here. Still though, she felt like she was invading someone's privacy.

  She looked around, taking in her surroundings. The room had glass walls on two sides, revealing a view that sucked the air straight out of her lungs.

  Apart from the door they had entered through, there
was another closed one that seemed to lead to an adjoining room behind this one. The room was decorated with a thick rug, a couple of couches, a coffee table, a stereo system that looked state of the art, and lots of crumpled balls of paper covering most of the surfaces.

  He was watching her as she took in the room and marveled over the views, but by the time she returned her attention to him fully, he was fiddling with the stereo.

  “Come on, make yourself comfortable and listen to this.” He motioned to one of the comfortable, understated-looking couches and took a seat opposite from her, next to the stereo. Every about this house screamed opulence, except for this room. It seemed to be some kind of sanctuary from the looks of it, lived in by a real person.

  Just then, the hauntingly beautiful sound of a guitar solo came through the speakers, soon followed by a smooth, powerful male voice. She listened closely, slightly startled when the other, much louder instruments chimed in.

  Again, Rhys was watching her closely, making her stomach feel all warm and tingly, and driving her thoughts from the music flowing out of the speakers above him to the dangerous places of the man underneath. His left hand and forearm were covered in the black lines of tattoos which stretched under the sleeve of his t-shirt. Another tattoo peeked out from under the sleeve of his right arm. His arms were divine, defined muscles, although they weren't bulging. His chest was broad and strong and his shoulders wide, almost like a swimmer's would be. Her eyes swept over them to his chiseled face. He was studying her reactions intently, like he was trying to decipher her thoughts and like he really cared about what she thought.

  He cocked an eyebrow at her obvious approval, a smug grin fixed on his face. He didn't say anything though. He gave her some time to listen and then launched into an explanation of chords and rhythm and melody and other words that all seemed to flow into one as she got lost in the sound of his voice. As he spoke of music, the excitement and passion radiating from him seemed to fill the room.

  He picked up a guitar she hadn't spotted earlier and played a few chords, eyes closed. “... you get it now?” She caught only the end of his question, and her spine snapped as she sat up straight to make it look as though she had been paying attention to his words rather than the man himself.

  “Yeah, sort of, I guess. It’s really not just the noise it sounds like at first if you listen carefully, it’s something else entirely. You know what I get more, though?”

  “What?”

  “You’re really passionate about music, aren’t you? I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone talk about anything as passionately as you did right then.”

  It was a statement more than a question, but he didn't deny it. Instead, he looked straight into her eyes, holding her transfixed with his stare and asked quietly, “And what are you passionate about, Serena?”

  Suddenly, something in her clicked as he held her eyes with his. That's why he looked familiar! He was the beautiful man from the balcony at the charity gala the other night, she was sure of it!

  “Were you by any chance at a charity fundraiser for a social services foundation the other night?” she blurted out before she could stop herself, but she didn't give him a chance to answer.

  “I’m sorry, that must sound really creepy! It’s just, I thought you looked familiar downstairs and it just occurred to me now that you look just like someone that I saw on a balcony on my way out.”

  “Yeah, that was me.” He looked mildly surprised for a second, but then the corners of his mouth turned up in a heartstopping, mischievous grin. “Purple dress, right?” he asked, his eyes glinting.

  He remembered me? Wow, that's odd. I'm not really what you would call memorable, so it must have been my interruption of his thoughts he recalled, she thought. He had stared out over the city so intently... she wondered idly what it was he had been thinking about, not that she would ever ask.

  “Yeah, uhm, I’m sorry I interrupted you. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

  “That seems to happen to you a lot, huh?” he mused, smiling serenely as she blushed. “So, inattentive Serena with the purple dress, 'fess up. What're you passionate about?”

  “Well, okay. Let’s see. A couple of weeks ago, I would’ve probably said my parents, maybe someone else. I think the only thing that’s left after the past few weeks is fashion. I love it. That’s what I was doing when I bumped in to you, staring at all the amazing outfits downstairs.”

  “Fashion, huh? That’s cool. And it led you to me,” he smirked. “So I guess that makes you passionate about me by extension?”

  She blushed furiously again, but didn't say anything. She just shook her head like he was a madman for suggesting such a thing. She wouldn't admit it, but he was definitely someone anyone could be passionate about. He was so intense, yet easy, and she... his voice pulled her, once more, out of her reverie.

  “Sounds like you’ve had a tough couple of weeks if you’ve lost something you were passionate about. I remember those so well…”

  “In a house that looks like this, filled with gorgeous girls and rock stars?” she joked, trying to lighten his sudden dark mood. “Must have some really tough times here.”

  “You like the house then?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, who wouldn't? Makes Josh's, I mean, our place look like a sorry little matchbox that ought to go sit in a corner and cry.”

  “Moved in with a guy, huh?”

  “Yeah, but it's not like that. He's one of my oldest friends. He took pity on me, so he's letting me crash in his spare bedroom for now. I had this huge fight with my parents over them not wanting me to go to design school... so I had to figure something out fast.”

  His eyes were still dark, his voice softer now. “Trust me, I didn't always live like this. The places I grew up in probably make your place now look like a fucking palace. I remember this one place-”

  The door she hadn't realized had closed behind them burst open at that moment, cutting Rhys off mid-sentence.

  Another beautiful man strode in to the room and she cringed a little, still not entirely confident that they were allowed to be in here.

  This man was almost as tall as Rhys and had the same air of confidence about him, but he wasn't quite as magnetic as the man sitting across from her. “Need you Rhys, NOW!” he almost barked, barely acknowledging her presence.

  Rhys looked alarmed, all his features suddenly seeming darker. “Serena, you'll find your way down, yeah? It was a pleasure, you're nice. I like you. Hope you'll consider becoming a fan,” he offered as he crossed the room and was out the door without so much as a second look back.

  “Hope you'll consider becoming a fan?” she heard the other guy say before the door slammed shut behind them.

  She walked over to the windows to take in the view one last time and then turned toward the door to try and find her friends before heading home. It was really late, or early, depending on how you thought about it, and she needed to get to bed.

  In the absence of Rhys' presence, she suddenly felt worn out and tired, if not at least a little lighter for having told him some of her story.

  On the way out the door she spotted a poster that had previously been hidden behind it. Thick dark letters half framed the top of a photograph of a group of five men. “Misery.” So this was the band, huh? The biggest band on the planet from what she'd heard, so she figured she'd better get a look at her absent hosts before she left.

  As she moved closer to the photograph, she lost her breath for the second time since entering this room, and she started to feel a bit dizzy.

  Staring out at her from the center of the poster, was the same man she had just been sitting across from, spilling her guts out to. He was the main man of the band from the looks of things. Misery's very own lead guitarist.

  Shit. What an idiot she had just made of herself. Feeling tears for a good old ugly cry coming on, she ran from the room, down the stairs and headed home without even thinking about finding her friends.

&nb
sp; That must have been why he was at the fundraiser, she realized somewhere in the back of her mind on her way home. Misery must have been the band that had donated all that money. She'd never proclaimed to be smart, but now she really felt idiotic.

  7

  Josh had been asleep by the time she'd gotten home, and was already gone by the time she woke up. The joys of being a responsible, working adult. Someone should really warn children to shop wishing they would grow up, she thought.

  The green lights of her alarm clock blinked at her. Okay, she hadn't slept in much, especially given the time she'd finally gotten to bed the night before. Never mind the time it took her to finally fall asleep despite her weariness. The humiliation still stung and seemed to be a living, breathing entity laughing at her in the confines of her small, cluttered room.

  Right, onwards and upwards. It wasn't like she was ever going to see him again, so time for a shower, maybe a short run, and then back to the job hunt. Okay, so who was she kidding? She didn't run. Unless something was chasing her and it was really big and scary. And if there was no one else it could target. And if she'd suddenly found something to live for that would make it worth running away. And... no, again, she digressed.

  Shower and searching for a job it was. She grabbed a soft, comfortable skirt and top from her closet and headed toward the bathroom she shared with Josh. Just because she felt crummy didn't mean she needed to look it. Looking good didn't necessarily mean being uncomfortable.

  She was just stepping out of the shower when she heard a knock at the door. “Just a minute!” she yelled, hoping whoever was out there could hear her. She dressed quickly and wrapped her hair in a towel before going to answer the door. Josh must have ordered something, or shit, had she texted Mary that she was home safe? She's going to kill her, she thought.

  She flung the door open, her mouth already starting to form an apology for her best friend. “I'm... Rhys?” She blinked. What?