by Adriana Law
“That’s an odd question to be asking right now don’t ya think?” He crosses the apartment and sinks down on the side of the bed, removing his dress shoes.
“That’s not an answer.”
His fingers work on the button of his dress shirt, undoing them. He stands and slowly sheds the crisp shirt, discarding it a few feet away. “It’s the only answer you’re going to get.”
“When are you going to stop avoiding me?”
“I’m not avoiding you,” he says huskily.
“Yes you are,” I insist, ignoring the sound of his belt being undone, the swish as it’s yanked from the loops clattering against the hardwood. Thank God he is wearing boxers this time, although the little bit of fabric doesn’t hinder his sex appeal or my knowledge of what’s underneath them. My mind still goes there. He might as well be naked from the slow burn that ignites deep inside me.
I swallow hard, looking anywhere but at him as he strolls over and digs out a pair of jeans, shoving one leg in and then the other. He pulls on a long sleeve Henley.
“There has to be a reason a guy who is obviously content with the way his life is would bring a strange girl he just met to his apartment and parade girls in and out in front of her. Acting like she is invisible. But continue to allow her to stay. And then what you said to Colton just now … the way you acted. Why, Sterling?” What is it you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything from you.” He sounds convinced padding barefoot across the apartment.
“Then why am I here?” I ask, following close behind.
“I don’t know.” He shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe I felt sorry for you and wanted to give you an escape.”
“So you wanted to rescue me? I don’t believe it.” I’m frustrated that he never opens up. “I think your too selfish for it to be about me. There has to be something in it for you. Tell. Me. Why. You. Brought. Me. here? The real reason.”
He abruptly stops and I ram into solid muscle. He turns around to face me dead-on. “Since I’m so selfish,” he closes the distance between us in two steps. Overwhelmed by his height and the intensity in his gray eyes I hold my breath. He is trying to intimidate me and force me to back down. Obviously he doesn’t know how stubborn I can be. His voice is raspy, “I brought you here to be my sex toy.”
“Not true.” I challenge. “You haven’t tried to kiss me once and you have plenty of girls willing to fill that role.” There is a catch in my voice, “You don’t need me.”
You don’t need me. Those four words are suspended between us, our gazes locked. I wish I could read his mind. There’s a moment when his mouth opens and his expression softens that I’m eagerly waiting his next words. But as quick as the moment comes it is gone. Whatever he was about to say is lost forever.
“Why the hell does it matter? Why do you need a reason? You’re here. If you don’t want to be then you know where the door is. You can’t control everything, Phoenix? If you think you can then you’re delusional.”
“I know there are things that are beyond my control.”
“Do you?” he taunts. “Because I’m not so sure. It may look like the people around you are controlling you, but is that really what’s going on? Or are you controlling them by pacifying them so there is no chance they will push you out of your comfort zone. You hate that you can’t control me. You hate that you can’t manipulate me. You hate that you can’t predict my every move. Hell maybe Colton is right … maybe I am just some tattooed punk you’re using to get back mommy.”
His head dips, our labored breaths mingling. I shiver. His clean smell mixed with alcohol is intoxicating. How can the combination be so pleasing? I breathe him hating that I want him, hating that I want to kiss him. I hate that he might be right, not about the using part, but I have been creating peace so I don’t have to confront anything. With Sterling there is no peace. I can’t predict what he is going to do next. I’m wound tight, in constant turmoil with the unknowing. Sterling Bentley is well aware of his effect on me and he uses it to keep me off balance.
Whose using who here?
“Aren’t you manipulating me,” I mutter.
He ignores my question. “I think it is only fair to warn you, Phoenix, keep this up and you might get something started that you won’t be able to stop or control. Are you ready for that?”
“I want to know why you brought me here,” I insist.
“Okay, here it is … In case you haven’t noticed I’m not happy. I am fuckin’ miserable.” His pupils swallow the gray in his eyes. “You make me feel something I haven’t felt in a longtime.”
“What? What do I make you feel?” I ask, expecting him to shut down as soon as he opens up. It’s what he does.
“Hope,” he says. “You make me feel hope.”
My mouth goes slack. Well I asked for it; the truth. Now what do I do with it?
He tilts his head closer, grinning smugly. “What, no witty come backs?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s a first. Look, it’s difficult to explain, but when I’m around you I think maybe things can be different ... maybe I can be different.”
“Then why don’t you?”
He cups my cheek with a hand. His eyes focused on my mouth. “Why don’t I what?”
I think about the needle marks. “Try to be different?”
“Are you saying you don’t approve of how I am?”
“You know that’s not what I’m saying.”
“It’s not that easy, Phoenix.”
“I know. I’ll help you.”
“You have no idea what you’re asking. My shit is a lot more complicated than I think you’re equipped to handle. One look at the truth and you’ll beat your own shadow out of here.”
“I wish you wouldn’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Decide what I’m going to do before you even give me a chance.”
His fingers circle my upper arms; he lowers his head, his expression softening. “I’m saying my world is a lot different than yours.”
“And I’m saying I want to be a part of your world,” I struggle to breathe as I stare up into his eyes. “I understand more than you think. I’m not walking into this blind. It’s what I want, the only thing I want at the moment.”
He lifts my chin with a finger, his mouth skimming mine, coming dangerously close but never touching. He is teasing me. Giving me a small taste of what I can’t fully have.
“Are you hungry?” His grins.
Yes. I’m starving for you.
It’s frustrating. My eyes close, an hmm vibrating over his lips.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he groans taking a step back. “I have somewhere I want to take you.”
I follow him over to bed. He collapses on the foot of it tugging on a pair of Pumas, lacing them up. His gaze trails down over what I’m wearing: his boxers and a T-shirt. “Put on a pair of tennis shoes.” He nods at the dresser. “You can borrow one of my long sleeve shirts. Second drawer on the right. There’s a jacket in the closet. It might get cold where we’re going.”
Magic
Victoria
Sterling chooses a booth in the back of the restaurant, away from the other customers.
“The pizza here is amazing,” he says, dropping down in the booth across from me. The smell of garlic and butter consumes the air. Bread crumbs litter the floor. “I usually get it loaded with everything, but there are all kinds of options if you want something else.”
“You’re giving me an option?” I try not to smile. “I thought men like you give orders, not take them.”
He raises a brow in warning. “This day is not going to end well if you keep this up.”
Folding my arms on the table I stare across at him. “How’s it going to end then?”
“With you underneath me,” he simply returns, shutting me up real quick.
We’d spent the day shopping; buying me clothes. He’d even taken me to buy a tooth brush and s
ome necessities for women: deodorant, make up, underwear. It had been embarrassing sifting through the thongs piled up on a table in the middle of the lingerie department. Thankfully, Sterling had not asked me to model anything. I’d expected at least a little sexual innuendo, but he’d never said a word, just watched my every move as my fingers slipped through the piles of silk and lace. I’d barely taken time to check sizes before laying a black bra and a four pairs of panties on the counter for the sales clerk to ring up. Of course the sales clerk’s attention had been on Sterling the entire time. Apparently guys are drawn to him too. Sterling pretended not to notice the guy checking him out.
“Don’t you need more than that?” Sterling asked from beside me, reaching for the wallet in the back pocket of his jeans.
“Exactly how long do you expect me to stay?” I muttered.
“As long as you want,” he replied.
The waitress plunks two menus down on the table. “Haven’t seen your moody-ass in here for a couple of weeks.” She levels Sterling with bright blue eyes, her hands going to her narrow hips. “I was beginning to think I might need to come hunt your ass down. Where you been?”
“Colorado Springs,” Sterling reluctantly answers, focusing all of his attention on the menu open in his hands.
Her blue eyes slide to me and brighten. “Hey, I know you. You came in here for change.”
Dark brows lower over Sterling’s eyes as they lift to me. I squirm in the seat knowing he knows I considered leaving. So what. He’d said it was an open door policy. I’m free to come … and go.
The girl pulls a pad and pen out of the small red apron tied around her thin waist, a splash of color against the short black skirt and tight white tank top she’s wearing. Her long black natural curly hair is in a low ponytail, swept over one shoulder. There’s a nautical star on the side of her neck, just below an ear. There is another tattoo surrounding her wrist resembling a bracelet of twisted briars. She’s tan. Exotic. With long black curled lashes that make her blue eyes pop. She’s the kind of girl my cousin would hate immediately.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” she nudges Sterling’s shoulder.
“I didn’t think it was necessary,” he mumbles.
“Okay, grumpy.” She sticks out a hand to me; a genuine smile transforming her dark features into breathtakingly beautiful. “As usual he’s being rude … Hi, I’m Starr.”
Her grip is strong, steady.
“Victoria.”
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Victoria. All I can say is you are one brave girl. Being around this guy is no joyride.”
“Like you have any room to talk … you’re not exactly Ms. Sunshine.” Sterling responds with a sparkle in his gray eyes I’ve never seen before.
“I love your necklace,” I say, nodding at the yellow stone lying against the scoop neck of her white tank.
“Thank you. I made it myself,” her fingers absently rub the stone, her gaze flicking briefly in Sterling’s direction. “Amber absorbs negative energy … something there is always plenty of whenever Sterling is around.” She playfully nudges him again. I wish she’d stop touching him. She grabs the menu out of his hands. “I don’t know why you’re pretending to look at the menu when you always order the same thing.” Her eyes return to me. “Sterling is a creature of habit.”
Sterling’s menu smacks closed. “Starr is into that weird shit; you know moonbeams, healing powers and Mother Earth; hence the name Starr, which is fake by the way.”
“I don’t think it’s weird,” I admit. “I’ve always thought it would be interesting to study the energy of certain stones. A cousin of mine made a necklace for her baby. She said it helped with the pain while he was teething.”
“See there …” she jabs a finger in my direction. “I told you it works.”
“Oh hell, not another one of you,” Sterling grumbles. “Next you two will be stringing beads together singing Kumbaya.”
Star’s eyes light with laughter. “See, negative energy.”
She tells Sterling, “This one is sweet. I like her.” Her head turns in my direction. “I already know what he wants. What can I get you to drink?”
“A coke.”
“Coke and a beer. Got it. Be right back.”
“Actually, I think we’re ready to order,” Sterling says right as Starr turns to go get our drinks. He appears anxious to eat and go. He stares over at me, obviously waiting for me to say what I want.
“Whatever he usually orders is fine.”
“A large with everything.” Her black tennis shoes squeak over the vinyl floor as she heads toward the kitchen.
“Old girlfriend?” I ask once Starr disappears through the metal swinging door. Sterling appears surprised. I shrug a shoulder. “I picked up on the ex -vibe.”
He leans on the table with his elbows, his gray eyes never once leaving mine. “It was a long time ago.”
But still he is a regular where she works. Okay, he does live next door, but still … could this be a red flag? Like there haven’t already been numerous red flags. This guy is nothing but a walking red flag.
“Starr is nice,” he says. “We tried dating once. It didn’t work.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re too much alike.”
“I can see that. She doesn’t seem like the type to put up with any bullshit.”
His eyes widen, laughter following. “I’m not so sure you meant that as a compliment … for me I mean.”
“I didn’t.”
“You know … you have that look.” He is still chuckling.
“What look?”
“The jealous-girlfriend look.”
“I’m not jealous,” I insist.
“You sure about that?”
“Do you want me to be jealous?” I snap, eyeing him carefully.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe. How did you ever end up with my cousin?”
“Colton used to be nerdy.”
A corner of his mouth pulls up. “And that’s why you like him?”
“No. We were friends. His father pushed him a lot.”
He takes a chug of his beer. “Sounds like it runs in the family.”
“His father wasn’t as bad as—”
“It’s okay. You can say it. I know my father is an asshole.”
Thankfully Star comes back with our drinks before I have to.
“Where are we going?” I ask from the opposite side of the cab.
I notice he sits closer to me this time then when he’d first brought me here. He sits with ease, his long legs bent the nearest one occasionally bumping mine, his gray eyes bemuse beneath his long lashes. “That’s the fifth time you’ve asked. I told you it’s a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises,” I grumble.
“I thought all girls like surprises?” Red mingles with the olive tone in his cheek as if he just realized he is unsure what girls like. He is not always as confident as he pretends to be. I’m starting to wonder how much experience Sterling has at this. There is difference between him having sex with a girl and him actually getting to know a girl. One takes effort.
The cab’s tires crunch over gravel and come to a stop in an empty parking lot. I stare out the window, confusion settling in.
“A Jr. High baseball field,” I mutter, definitely surprised. “Are we going to watch a game?”
“Not exactly.” He swings open the cab door, pays the cabby and we both stand in silence until the cab pulls off. We cross the vacant lot, me feeling small at his side. My stomach drops when I see the hot air balloon anchored by stainless steel cables in the middle of the field. Empty bleachers surround it. I come to a halt glancing up in awe at the royal blue and red balloon with Bentley boldly printed on it floating in the light breeze.
“You own a hot air balloon?” I mutter.
“My father owns a hot air balloon,” he returns, smiling, his teeth white and perfect. I focus on the balloon sensing that he is watching
me closely. He is acting like a small boy; excited and eager to unwrap the bright wrapping on a present.
“I hate to disappoint you but I’m not riding in that thing if that’s what you think,” I go ahead and get it out of the way.
Sterling’s grin is smug, confident that he will get his way, eventually. I hate to tell him but this will be one time those dimples won’t work. He reaches for my hand and pulls me along. Reluctantly I match his pace. If he wants to impress me by showing me his family’s balloon, then fine, I can be polite.
“She’s ready, sir,” the gray-haired man tells Sterling as we approach. He is dress in a suit and sweat is beading up on his top lip.
Standing next to the basket Sterling sticks his hands in a pair of gloves and curls a finger. “Come here.”
I shake my head, backing up. “No. There is no way I’m getting in. You can’t make me.”
“Wanna bet,” he says, not a speck of doubt anywhere in eyes.
He comes at me, his jaw determined. Oh dear God. He’s not going to take no for an answer.
“What are you doing?” I shriek.
“Helping you inside the basket.” One minute my feet are firmly on the ground the next I am swept up in his arms. I squeal, my arms circling his neck. “Put me down! I’m serious!” I kick my feet, but it doesn’t keep him from carefully dumping me over the side into the basket. Panicking I attempt to climb back out, but he is by my side before I get one leg over.
“I can’t. I’m afraid of heights,” I grit my teeth, my gaze snapping up to his.
“I remember,” he returns. “Look, it’s perfectly safe. There’s a fire extinguisher and a first aid kit.” He retrieves a lighter from his pocket. “And I have an extra one of these incase the flame goes out.”
It’s not a fire I’m worried about.
He goes on, pointing and explaining how safe the balloon is and how it functions. “I have a helmet you can wear if it will make you feel better.”
“You’re joking, right? This isn’t funny!” My knuckles turn white from my tight grip on the band of the basket. My gaze flickers up inside the balloon dancing above us, to the burner, to the banquette seat, to Sterling’s serious expression.
“Do you see me laughing?” he asks.