by C. L. Stacey
I’m just putting the finishing touches on my makeup when Caleb finally walks through the door. I just got in this afternoon, and he’s been busy all day, so I haven’t had the chance to see him yet.
Exiting his master bath, I damn near sprint for the living room.
Caleb greets me with that grin I love, and I run full speed ahead, jumping right into his waiting arms. He breathes me in, his arms tightening around me, hugging me close. “I missed you,” he whispers.
“I missed you, too.” My words come muffled.
I pull back to stare into his eyes, my hand cradling the back of his head. We’re moving, but I don’t dare look away from him. “Where are you taking me?”
“To bed,” he answers just as I notice that I’m right back in his room.
“Caleb…”
He sets me gently down on the mattress. “Yea?” His hands come up to undo the tie hanging loosely around his neck and then he pulls it from his collar.
“My party.”
“What about it?” His fingers work the buttons along the front of his shirt, and then he shrugs it off before tossing it to the side.
“You’re going to make us late.” I hook a finger in his belt loop and pull him closer.
“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Ari. They can wait.” Caleb watches my hands as they work to free him of his pants.
My pulse quickens when Caleb’s hand comes around to the nape of my neck, and I turn to press a kiss over the inside of his wrist. Burying his fingers in my hair, he gives it a gentle tug to tilt my head back, forcing me to look him in the eyes.
“I missed you,” he says again, differently this time. He doesn’t want me to simply hear those three words; he wants me to truly understand them.
“I missed you, too, Caleb.” I make sure that I’m being just as clear with him.
A deep groove forms between his brows when they draw closer. “Are we okay?”
Guilt spreads, filling every corner in my chest, weighing down on me and making the next breath I take harder and harder.
“We’re going to be fine, Caleb. I promise.” This isn’t a lie; it’s a promise I intend to keep.
What I’ve done can’t be erased, but it can be buried, so that’s what I’ll do. I need to focus on getting us back on track. This secret is not worth breaking us. Nothing will ever be worth that. I’ve put him through so much these past few weeks. I see the stress of it on his face, how sad and tired he looks. I have to fix this.
“I hate fighting with you. Especially when you’re so far away…” He shakes his head. “No more fighting.”
Tears line the bottom of my eyes as I nod. “No more fighting,” I agree, wholeheartedly.
Caleb kneels in front of me, taking my face in his hands. His thumbs sweep across my cheeks as soon as the first teardrop falls. “You’re all I need, Ari.”
I bring my hands up, clutching his wrists when leaning forward to kiss him. “You’re my one, Caleb,” I whisper against his lips, swallowing the urge to say what I desperately want to tell him.
I love you.
October quickly turned into November, and Ari and I are no longer in a rut. We’re happier than we’ve ever been, relieving me of any paranoid concerns I’ve ever had about us.
While I do still face risks in another bastard, better than me, coming to take what’s mine, I believe that we’re stronger than that. I know that I’m the only one Ari wants or needs, she tells me so every single day. I’m her one.
God help me, I think I’ve fallen in love with my best friend.
How the hell do I know something that big for sure? I don’t know the first thing about it.
You can’t tell someone that you love them and then take it back. When you tell them, you damn well better be certain. At least, that’s what my mother always told me—Lucille, not Thea. ‘Never use those three words lightly, Caleb. Admitting that to someone will change your life. But when you know, you say it. Say it loud, make it clear, and whatever you do, don’t let her go.’
When I asked her how I’d know for sure, she uttered two useless words back to me. ‘You’ll know.’
What the hell do I do with that?
“Beautiful, Ariana,” Stefan praises from nearby, shaking me from my daydream. “Bring your arm back up the way it was—good girl,” he praises again when she executes his direction flawlessly.
The Denim Gene’s launch went beautifully, fully exceeding our expectations. Lena had a few other projects in mind but decided to see her new swimsuit collection through first.
We’re in Turks and Caicos for the shoot, and I made sure to clear my calendar to make this trip with Ari this time. And I’m so glad I did. Watching her, in her tiny aqua-blue bikini, under the sun, standing along the shoreline of this beautiful beach? Absolutely riveting.
The way she demands the attention of everyone on this goddamn beach, how Stefan gives her the freedom to improvise because she’s too damn good to direct… I’m enthralled by her beauty and grace.
This woman has told me time and again how proud she is to have me, but what she doesn’t understand is that it is me who is proud to have her. She’s the best part of me.
The set assistant comes to apply another layer of sunblock on Ari when Stefan calls for a brief break, communicating with her about what he wants to see next.
Someone comes to stand next to me under the tent, and I turn to find Natasha smiling in Ari’s direction. She’s now lying on her side against the sand. The waves come rushing up the shore, and Ari squeals with laughter, leaning away to avoid getting wet.
“My friend sure is beautiful, isn’t she?” Natasha asks.
We still haven’t told anyone about us. My kiss with Ari last New Year’s Eve was far from private, but we’ve never come out publicly to a single person. Well, there’s Bethany, but she’s my assistant, and she’s been sworn to secrecy. She would never tell a soul.
Natasha’s question makes me suspicious, and I don’t think I’m being at all paranoid.
“What’s up, Natasha?” I deliberately avoid answering her question.
“Just thought I’d come over and enjoy the view with you, is all,” she claims.
“I’m observing the shoot. Shouldn’t you be with hair and makeup or something?”
“Done.” She shrugs.
“Wardrobe?” I ask, trying to get her the hell away from me. She’s distracting me from Ari.
“It’s under my robe.” Natasha pulls it open to show me the suit underneath.
I turn to look at Ari, our eyes locking from across the beach. A set assistant comes to offer Ari a robe, helping her get to her feet when her session with Stefan is complete, then she pulls her arms through the sleeves as she walks a straight path toward the tent.
“Excuse me.” I step away from Natasha to meet Ari halfway, but she walks past me, taking a bottle of water from a member of the crew.
“He’s ready for you,” Ari tells Natasha in passing.
“Thanks.” Natasha drops her robe, revealing a black bikini that has far less of an impact on me, and she steps out from under the tent. “Stick around, Caleb. I get off on being watched.” She winks at me.
What the fuck?
I refocus my attention on Ari, now leaving the beach, and I run to catch up to her before she gets into the transport vehicle waiting to take her back to the hotel.
“Ari,” I call after her, but she doesn’t stop for me. “Hey, I’m talking to you. Hold on a minute.” I take her by the arm to stop her myself. “What’s wrong?”
“I know she’s beautiful, Caleb, and I get that it’s impossible for a man not to look, but could you not do it with me just a few feet away? It’s distracting when I’m trying to work.” She turns away from me, but I pull her right back.
“Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you. Are you fucking kidding me, Ari? Who are you accusing me of looking at? Natasha? I have no interest in looking at her, I was watching you.”
“You’re going to draw unwanted attentio
n.” Her gaze falls to the hand I still have over her arm. “Let me go.”
The second I release her arm, Ari boards the transporter.
This conversation is far from over, but if I follow her back, it’ll raise questions.
I’ll catch the next one.
The shower is running when I let myself into Ari’s room with the spare key card. Forced to book separately to keep up appearances, she gave it to me as soon as we checked in so that I could sneak in at night.
I pull my shirt over my head when entering the steamy bathroom. Then I step out of my board shorts and join her.
Her eyes, still full with their disappointment, stare back at me. I walk the rest of the way to her, stepping directly under the spray of hot water when pulling her into my arms.
Arms hanging loosely by her sides, Ari doesn’t move to return my hug.
“I don’t know what it looked like from where you were standing, Ari, but I swear to God, I wasn’t looking at her. She means nothing to me, while you mean absolutely everything.” I pull back to look into her eyes. “Jealousy is a good shade on you, though. I’m more than just enjoying this, I must say.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I’m not kidding.”
“You’re mine,” she declares, her voice thick with emotion and unsteady.
We’ve been at this for almost a year now, and Ari’s never laid down any claim to me. Not like that anyway. Being marked by the woman who I’ve fallen so deeply for does things to my heart I can’t explain.
Needing her now more than I ever have, I walk Ari back toward the tiled wall behind her, getting us out from under the water.
“You’re mine,” she says again.
“I am.” I take her lips with mine.
“Don’t leave me, Caleb,” she whispers into my mouth.
“Why would I ever do a stupid thing like that, Ari?”
“Just don’t.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise me.”
“I swear.”
Ari’s arms finally come around me, her fingers raking through my hair, pulling me closer, harder against her mouth.
My condoms are in the bedroom. Fuck.
I know that she’s on birth control, but I don’t know if she’d ever let me in raw. We’ve always used protection.
Battling with my conscience, I go with the safer decision and pull away.
“No, where are you going?” she pants.
“I don’t have a condom with me, Ari, I’m fucking naked. I’ll be right back.”
“Just do it, I’m on the pill.”
“What?”
“We’ve been exclusively together for almost a year. Do you have something I don’t know about?”
“No!”
“I trust you, Caleb. Just do it.”
Not needing to hear it a third time, I come right back. “Wrap your legs around me.” She does, and then I lift her up, aligning her with me.
Gently lowering her back down onto me, I groan loudly into her neck as I bury myself to the hilt, and then I move because I’ll die if I don’t get to feel her again.
“Ari—Jesus…” My words strain when her pussy clenches around me, strangling my dick the faster I pump.
“Tell me this feels as good for you as it does for me,” she moans.
“You have no fucking idea,” I growl, pounding mercilessly into her when she begs for more, ordering me not to stop.
Euphoria, I used to think that a man on crack had invented the word. No one’s ever that happy. The term ‘happy’ seemed sufficient enough to express any level of contentment. I used to think ‘happy’ could cover just about everything.
That was before this, this moment here with Ari.
Euphoria is the only term that seems fitting enough to describe my current state of emotions. I’m on another fucking level of content right now. Intensely happy is accurate.
I used to be worried about not being able to reciprocate any firsts to compensate for the mother of all firsts Ari had given me. I’m an idiot. Tirelessly stressing over the measly title, it caused me to overlook one very important detail.
Having a first leaves a spot open for a second and a third, so on and so forth.
I still have all my onlys. And they all belong to her.
Feeling the words at the tip of my tongue, I refrain. I won’t let the first time I tell her I love her be while I’m fucking her in the shower. She deserves better than that.
But I know, without a doubt in my mind, that I fucking love this woman.
When that perfect moment rolls around, I will say it loud. I’m going to make it clear to her that I will never love another, that it will only ever be her, and that I’m never letting her go.
Thieves, the world is full of them.
When you possess something that appeals to another, they’re tempted to take said possession away from you.
Like people, there are many different kinds of thieves. They aren’t always after material things. Sometimes, a miserable person wants to see the happiness in others die, and they’ll do whatever it takes to rip the joy from their lives.
The act doesn’t always require violence, sometimes all it takes is careful planning, leaving it up to you to destroy it all yourself. When successful, you end up with a loss, while the thief silently claims his victory.
A week after returning from Turks and Caicos, I’d started to plan the perfect moment to tell Ari of how I feel. Christmas is her favorite holiday, and it’s only a few weeks away, so I decided to wait.
At first, I decided to do it on New Year’s, since it marks one full year since she and I officially took that first step forward into something more. It was the start of a new year, the start of us, so I found it romantic. But that meant waiting an extra week, so I 86’ed that plan immediately.
Christmas is as long as I can wait.
Then, I came crashing down from my high when I received an email from an anonymous sender this past Wednesday. The week of fucking Christmas. The timing seriously could not have been shittier. No name was attached, just an email address. Watchmewatchyou.
Attached to the email were several different photographs, candid ones, of Ari with Stefan. In each shot, they were making some form of physical contact. Stefan’s hand on Ari’s face, Ari laughing with a hand on his shoulder, Stefan embracing her, Stefan kissing her on the cheek…
This must be from an anti-fan or a reporter, looking for a paycheck in exchange for their silence. The subject line reads: Ariana Andrews sure likes taking those shortcuts, doesn’t she?
A threat to discredit the hard work she put in to get where she currently is.
Stefan Rossi is a name the public is familiar with; he’s known for working with more than just a few famous faces. He’s been everywhere, worked with everyone. If these pictures leak, no one will have trouble believing what seems like obvious proof.
In the past six months, after news of her being cast in the new Calvin Klein campaign hit the web, Ari has landed some major campaigns, booked quite a few magazine covers that came with a full profile interview. It’s earned her a lot of attention from other major designers, fellow models, curious (male) celebrities, bloggers, fans and followers on social media. She’s really made a name for herself. But behind every rising star is a troll waiting for everything to crash and burn.
The body of the email reads:
Suddenly, it all makes sense. A beautiful nobody, whose career seems to have materialized out of thin air, landing campaigns like Denim Gene’s and Lena Durev’s new swimsuit line.
Photographers love to play favorites, and it is no secret how much Stefan Rossi adores his favorite little muse. Now we know why.
You have to give a little to get a little. We get it. Just not sure the rest of the world will be as understanding.
I’m fuming.
Ari would never do what this person is accusing her of.
This is slander, and it’s fucking outrageous.
When I a
sked the blackmailer what they wanted, I never got a response.
Now, I have to head over to the Andrews’s family home, and I have no idea how to bring this up to her. I have no idea how she’ll react. It’s fucking Christmas, I hate that I have to be the one to deliver this news, but I’d rather it be me than anyone else.
Thirty minutes later, I’m standing on their front stoop, but before I have the chance to enter the home, Ari comes rushing out, pushing me toward the dark corner of the porch.
“Ari…”
“What the hell took you so long to get here?” She reaches on her toes to kiss me.
I cut it shorter than what we’re used to, pulling her hands from my face and holding them in front of my chest. “We need to talk.”
Confused by the seriousness in my tone, Ari nods. “Okay, what’s wrong?”
I lead her toward the bench, both of us taking a seat, and I pull my phone from my pocket. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to be upfront with you.”
“Okay, Creepy, what the hell is going on?”
“I got a weird email from someone the other day.” I locate it before handing my phone out to her. She takes it, scrolling through the images of her and Stefan. “I’m trying to find a way to prevent this from getting out, but I wanted to let you know in case this person can’t be stopped.”
“Okay?” she says, showing very little concern.
“They’re going to try and spin this in a very bad way.” I return my phone into my pocket. “They’ll try to discredit you. Make sure no one in this industry, not even the fans, will take you seriously. What will you do when questions come flying your way? What will you say? ‘That’s not true, I’m exclusively dating Caleb Carlisle?’ We can’t do that. Aryn will know, and we aren’t ready for that yet.”
“The pictures aren’t even that bad—”
“Maybe not to you. But they look suspicious. Stefan’s been on both the Denim Gene’s and swimsuit project, so linking you two was easy. If they decide to dig further, they’ll eventually find me—” I stop, praying that it won’t get to that point. “I don’t like the way this looks, Ari. What the fuck was Stefan doing with his hands all over you anyway?”