The Duet

by R.S. Grey

  “Oh, please,” I answered, rolling my eyes and leaning back onto my elbows in the grass. “You sound like a pretentious ass.”

  He winked. “What about you?”

  Obviously, it was a no brainer. Up until that point, I’d never known the real thing. “I’d want to live it.”

  “You’d give up performing forever?” he asked, our gazes locking as he stared down at me.

  “Of course. Why write about something you’ll never experience?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Holy cow, was my vajayjay (as Cammie liked to call it) sore after riding Dotty all day. I never knew that area could be so sore from non-sex related activities, but note to self: put some bubble wrap down there next time.

  I sat in the bathtub for a solid hour after we got back, washing the smell of pine, sweat, and horse out of my hair and off my body. The more I relaxed, the less I ever wanted to leave. I’d just live in the bathtub forever and LuAnne could sneak me in food. Unfortunately, just as my fingers really started to prune over, my phone started vibrating on the tile next to the tub. In spite of my better judgment, I peered over the ledge to see Summer’s purple hair and smiling face staring up at me. She’d programmed a picture of herself holding up a sign that said, “answer this call!!!!” when she’d first started working for me, and now the image was taunting me.

  I groaned and laid back against the back of the tub. There was no way I was talking to Summer while I was taking a bath. I made a mental note to call her back after I finished and then I closed my eyes as the jasmine bath salts started to fade. I either had to get out or add more.

  Obviously, I was going to add more.

  Except, I never got the chance.

  The second I opened my eyes, I saw a big, black spider hanging directly above me on the ceiling and before I could process how big it was, I let out a guttural scream. A shudder ran down my spine as I pressed against the back of the tub, splashing nearly half of the water over the sides. Footsteps pounded in the hallway and then the door to the bathroom burst open.

  I blinked rapidly to find Jason standing in the doorway, breathing hard and staring at me like he was seeing a ghost.

  “What the hell is wrong?” he asked, not even bothering to avert his eyes. To his credit, with my knees bent to my chest, he wasn’t actually seeing anything.

  I couldn’t look back up to the spider. I pointed to the ceiling and squeezed my eyes closed.

  “Kill it, please. Kill it before it drops in the tub with me. I’m serious. I am not a spider person. I don’t even like Spider-Man, not even when Toby Maguire played him. He almost made it worse.”

  The moment I stopped rambling, I realized Jason was laughing, but not just light giggles. No, he was bent forward and wiping his eyes he was laughing so hard. I peered back up at the ceiling and realized that my big, fat spider was actually small— embarrassingly small.

  I sighed. “Yeah, okay, you can stop laughing now. It was surprising, and to my credit it looked a lot bigger at first.”

  He stood back up and tried to wipe the smile from his face.

  “Do you still want me to kill it?” he asked, taking a step forward as he stared up to the ceiling.

  “Wait! It’s wet!” I yelled, watching in slow motion as Jason stepped forward and slipped into the pool of water I’d splashed out of the tub. He went from standing and staring at the ceiling to crumbling back against the floor, landing with a thud on his back. I held my hand over my mouth as I bolted up to see if he was okay. I scanned his body, looking for blood, but, luckily, I think his shapely derriere caught most of his fall.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, parting my hands over my mouth so that he could hear me.

  “Peachy,” he groaned, staying on the ground. “But just so you know, your spider friend just fell into the bath.”

  I screamed and jumped out of the tub as fast as I could. I didn’t care if Jason could see everything. I’d flash a whole subway if it meant I didn’t have to swim with spiders. I hopped over Jason as quickly as I could, careful not to slip in the same puddles that he had. I reached for the robe behind the door and tugged it around myself, tying the belt in one smooth gesture.

  “Just so you know, I’m not even mad about falling anymore because I just got the best view of my entire life,” he explained with a smug grin on his face. I would have helped him up, but that little comment had earned him about ten extra hours in the doghouse.

  “Erase it from your memory. You were not given permission to check out my goods.”

  “But they were oh so good,” he said, dropping his hand over his heart like he was wounded. The content smile on his lips told me he was far from it. I kicked him in the side playfully, and then reached down so he could grab onto my hand and stand up.

  “Thanks for coming in to rescue me,” I said, my cheeks red with residual embarrassment.

  “It was my pleasure, but just so you know, you’re now the boy who cried wolf. I’m not going to come running in next time you scream while you’re in the bath,” he swore, shaking his head.

  “That’s fine. I hope you got a good look because you’re never going to see this ass ever again,” I joked.

  Jason’s amused smirk turned into something a little more dangerous. He stepped forward and gripped my robe, just below my hips, and bent down so his mouth hovered over mine.

  “No worries, Sweet Cheeks. I’ve been told I have quite the memory,” he said as I held my breath. He left me there in limbo as I waited for him to tear through the wall between us. It was pure torture, like someone dangling an ice cream cone in front of your mouth when you’re trying to stave off a sweet tooth.

  He leaned forward two more inches, his chest pressing against mine, and then he stole a kiss. His free hand gripped my wet hair, tugging me closer. It was quick, over before it even began. But his supple lips were on mine, and for one brief second I felt like I was drowning in him.

  When he pulled back, I fluttered my eyes open and actively fought off a moan. Without a word, he let go of me and exited my bathroom like he was the King of Siam. I would have said something, formed a retort to his earlier teasing, but the mood had already shifted. He was like an unpredictable summer storm. One minute he hated me, one minute he wanted to kiss me. And as he fled from the room, I assumed his pendulum was already swinging away from me once again.

  I stayed where I was, running my finger back and forth across my bottom lip. It’d been a really, really good first kiss. To put it in perspective, any kisses that I’d had before that kiss were just a waste of facial muscles. I should have been saving up all my energy for Jason Monroe because I had a feeling I was going to need it.

  I stood there fanning myself for a solid ten minutes before I realized that Mr. Spidey could still be somewhere in the bathroom. Nope. Nope. I rushed out and closed the door. Guess I’ll just never go into that room again.

  Problem solved.

  …

  Thirty minutes later, after I’d called Summer back and parts of my dignity were finally seeping back in, I padded down the stairs in search of food. My call with Summer wasn’t long, but she’d informed me that the next day a car would arrive at 8:00 A.M. sharp to drive me to Billings, Montana. The meetings and photo shoots I’d been avoiding while in Montana had finally caught up to me, and I was booked solid for two days. There was a photo shoot for a fragrance line and a swimsuit company wanted initial designs approved for the “Brooklyn Heart Collection.” It was only two days, but the thought of leaving the ranch, of leaving Jason, didn’t sit well with me.

  I trotted down the rest of the stairs, trying to shake the confusing feelings playing out in my head. Maybe I was just hungry. That was usually the culprit to any bad mood.

  “Hey, Brooklyn,” Derek called out as soon as my feet hit the bottom stair. He was standing in the doorway of the kitchen with a playful smile. His tight t-shirt was dirty from work and his hair was patted down at an awkward angle from being stuffed under a cowboy hat all day. In all
, he was still pretty cute.

  “I heard you’re quite the screamer,” he said with a cheeky smile. My gaze darted to where Jason was sitting behind him at the table. His dark hair concealed his eyes as he stared down at his phone, and even though he wasn’t contributing, his wicked smile told me he was enjoying Derek’s teasing all the same.

  Before I could reply, LuAnne twisted away from the stove with her dishtowel to smack Derek on the back of the head. The loud clap of the towel rang out in the kitchen and Derek leaned forward to get out of her reach.

  “Brook, don’t you worry about these two boys. They never grow up, I swear,” she said, giving me a ‘what are we going to do’ shrug as I stepped past the doorway.

  “Which is exactly why I’m glad I’m headed to Billings for two days,” I announced, giving Derek a playful glare. Maybe I was actually happy to get a break.

  Derek’s bottom lip stuck out like a five-year-old. “Really?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, my assistant has me booked with meetings for a solid 48 hours.”

  Without a word, Jason scooted his chair back so that the wooden legs scraped against the hardwood. All three of us turned to stare at him, but he didn’t offer any response. Instead, he went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer from the bottom shelf.

  “Want one, Derek?” he asked, already reaching for a second bottle.

  “Sure thing,” he replied.

  “Oh, no thank you. I’m fine,” I teased, resting my hip on the kitchen island and pretending to not check him out as he bent down again, retrieving a third bottle.

  When he handed it over to me after popping the top off, his brown eyes met mine. “My apologies. Didn’t figure you for a beer fan, Princess.”

  “Aw, he calls her princess,” LuAnne said, peering over at us from the stove.

  Derek and Jason chuckled while I rolled my eyes.

  “It’s not a term of endearment, let me assure you,” I answered.

  Jason held up his hands in defense. “Who said it wasn’t?”

  Before I could answer, the doorbell rang. I nearly jumped at the noise, considering I hadn’t heard it ring in all the days I’d stayed there.

  “Who’s that?” I asked as Jason turned to answer it.

  “It’s Logan, and he’s just in time for dinner,” LuAnne said. I watched her moving around the kitchen. In one quick motion she took a pot of boiling pasta off the stove and dumped it into a strainer in the sink. Meanwhile, Jason opened the front door for his teenage cousin who looked just as shell-shocked as he had been at the coffee shop the day before.

  “Is she here?” he asked Jason as he stepped through the threshold, probably not intending for his voice to carry through the house as well as it did.

  Jason patted his back, “Hello to you, too, cuz.”

  I smiled, watching them approach. When Logan saw me standing in the kitchen, his eyes traveled over my loose cotton dress, down to the beer in my hand, and back up to my face in a matter of seconds.

  “Hi Logan,” I offered with a smile, hoping to ease his nerves.

  It didn’t work. His eyes widened when I said his name and then he took two awkward steps forward.

  “I brought you these,” he said, skating over a formal greeting in an attempt to shove whatever it was he was holding into my hand.

  When I glanced down at the bag I saw the Big Timber Brew logo.

  “They’re chocolate-covered coffee beans,” he explained.

  “Oh!” I flipped the bag over to get a better look at the candy. “I love these, thank you, Logan.” I stepped forward to give him a quick hug and my eyes met Jason’s over Logan’s shoulder. He tipped his beer to me with a thankful smile before he took a long sip.

  “Who’s hungry!?” LuAnne hollered as I stepped out of Logan’s embrace.

  I overheard Logan whisper, “Oh my God, my shirt smells like her now,” as I went to take my seat at the table.

  Logan sat across from me, anxiously fidgeting in his seat, and Jason sat beside me, casually resting his hand on the back of my chair in a way that completely confused me. LuAnne set out a big bowl of spaghetti with a fresh salad and breadsticks. The food smelled divine, and I even let myself enjoy the pasta knowing full well my trainer would kick my ass for it in the morning. He’d taken to calling me on Skype so we could continue our sessions as usual while I was in Montana. At first, I contemplated holding up a stick-figure of myself working out to fool him, but then I’d go back to LA ten pounds heavier and he’d only kick my ass more. The life of a public figure. Every time I glanced at a rag magazine while I waited in line at the grocery store (yes, celebrities do that, too) they’d have my picture next to a bold statement: “Too thin?”, “Too Fat?”, or my personal favorite, “Seriously, does she ever stop eating?”

  “So the coffee beans were kind of an attempt at buttering you up,” Logan said, breaking me out of my bread-filled daze.

  “Were they now?” I asked.

  Logan’s gaze darted to Jason, and then back to me. “I have this request and I’m sure that you’ll be too busy or whatever, but I thought I’d ask because I’d be an idiot not to ask. Every guy in school would be so jealous if you actually said yes.”

  His ramblings were piquing my interest.

  “Said yes to what?” I asked with a tilt of my head.

  Logan took a deep breath. “Would you go to prom with me?”

  Derek’s howling laughter filled the kitchen until I heard an audible kick beneath the table. Jason’s foot had undoubtedly left a nice indention on his shin.

  “Prom?” I asked, trying to clarify his question in my mind.

  He smiled wider. “Yup.”

  I hadn’t attended my senior prom. At the time, I was dating an older guy and he didn’t want to go, so I’d skipped it and we’d had sex in the back of his car. It wasn’t so bad; I mean I got some serious carpet burn on my back from his shitty seats. At the end of the night, after he’d dropped me back off at home, I’d felt a pang of regret about not going to prom for at least a little while. Especially since, if I recall correctly, that car sex had lasted all of two minutes in total.

  When Logan cleared his throat, I realized I needed to answer.

  “Logan, I’d love to,” I began, but he cut me off with a fist pump and a “Yes!” before I could continue. “I just have to check my schedule with my assistant, and also, I think Jason should come with us, too.”

  Yes, that second part was a nice touch.

  Jason’s brows nearly shot to the ceiling when I threw him into the mix, so I continued. “I’m sure there’s a girl in your school who would love to go to prom with Jason. So let’s figure that out. Until then, why don’t you give me the date and I’ll coordinate everything with Summer.”

  Logan probably didn’t hear a single word I said after “I’d love to” because his eyes were glazed over and his smile was so wide it almost split his face in two.

  “Would you do that, Jason?” Logan asked with an air of hope.

  Jason wiped his mouth with the napkin in his lap, stalling for time, but when he saw the joy on his cousin’s face, he nodded, just once. “Yeah. Okay.”

  I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until I exhaled with his reply. Why did it feel like I was in high school and I’d just asked Jason to my senior prom?

  Jason’s hand slid onto my leg beneath the table and he squeezed once, just above my knee. I glanced over, appreciating his secret smile.

  “I think Brooklyn and I will have fun reliving our high school years,” he spoke as his thumb slid over the sensitive skin on the inside of my knee.

  In true eighteen-year-old girl form, my next thoughts went something like this:

  OH MY GOD, I NEED A DRESS!

  Is he going to take my virginity?

  Oh wait…

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning a car was waiting for me outside on the gravel drive just as Summer had promised. Everyone was already up and doing their own thing. I’d seen L
uAnne briefly at breakfast, but I really wanted to see Jason once before I left. Two days without seeing him had started to feel like it would last a lifetime.

  I lingered in the kitchen after breakfast. I took extra care to drag my bags downstairs as slowly as possible, but still he was nowhere to be found.

  When the driver honked twice, I knew I didn’t have any more time to linger. I sighed and opened the front door, resigned to the fact that I’d have to settle for seeing him when I returned in two days.

  Just before I stepped out, I heard him say my name.

  “Brook,” he called behind me. I spun around to see him standing in the doorway of the kitchen with gray pajama pants slung low on his hips. He’d forgone a t-shirt and shoes and his hair was deliciously mussed up from sleep.

  He didn’t make a move to walk toward me, but he held his cup of coffee up in a silent salute. I returned it with a small bow, enjoying the low chuckle it warranted from him.

  “Come back safe,” he said, turning back toward the kitchen. That image of him standing in the doorway seared into my memory as I closed the heavy front door behind me.

  …

  “Are you almost done in there?” Summer called from the other side of the bathroom door. I was at my first photo shoot of the day, one that I hadn’t known about until I was handed a tiny piece of string they thought could pass as a bathing suit.

  I groaned. “Yes, but just so you know, I thought we were going over bikini designs today. I didn’t know I’d be modeling them for the campaign.”

  With one last glance in the bathroom mirror, I pushed the door open to find Summer sitting on a chair in my private dressing room, flipping through papers on her lap. She was sporting a new eyebrow piercing and dark, shimmery eye shadow at 9:00 A.M. My eyelids would have revolted.

  “I thought I told you about it,” she said, not bothering to glance up from her work. “Oh, well, good thing you’ve waxed recently or they’d have some serious retouching,” Summer said, pulling me back to the moment.