Undeniable: A Friends To Lovers Romance (Love Desired Book 4)

by Cassie Verano

  I turned around, staring at the TV in half horror for Bryce and half disbelief. Who would do such a thing when he’d worked so hard to conceal his identity from his adoring fans?

  “Channel four is pleased to announce that the erotic romance author is none other than one of North Carolina’s own. From the small town of Summer Cove, Ryan Warren is an alias for Bryce Lexington, son of famed photographer, Gabriel Lexington. Fans were pleased to see that he’s every bit as ‘yummy,’ as they’d hoped he’d be. Now to you, Glenda.”

  “Jonathan, yes, fans were excited, to say the least, to finally discover the famed author’s identity. We interviewed several passengers here at LAX, who recently shared a flight with the author.”

  I watched in disbelief as the camera spanned to an earlier report where Glenda Mitchell interviewed a passenger in the airport terminal. A flushed blonde-haired woman smiled ear to ear as she waited to share her perspective of her chance encounter with Bryce.

  Waves of nausea rolled over me.

  “...we all began screaming and squealing, and everyone was trying to get at him at once. He signed a few autographs, but you could tell that he was unnerved as he waited for airport security to arrive.”

  “This woman next to me slipped her panties from underneath her dress and asked him to sign them for her,” another passenger described.

  I felt the heat rise to my face and was dismayed by the embarrassment I was sure Bryce felt.

  “And did he? Sign the lady’s underwear?”

  “Yes! He signed them,” the second lady said.

  The woman was full of smiles as though that were something astonishing. I was disgusted.

  Did women have no modicum of respect for themselves? And what about Bryce? Why would he do such a thing?

  “Glenda, I hear that he’s single. Is that true?”

  “Yes! There’s no one holding his heartstrings. He’s very available from what our source says. And our source happens to be a resident of Summer Cove who knows him personally,” Glenda replied.

  “Well, I’m sure that our viewers will be excited to hear that. Especially those in the L.A. area,” Jonathan pointed out.

  I looked up as the reporters rambled on to find Anita’s bewildered expression and Maggie’s sympathetic eyes resting on me.

  “I wonder what does this mean for his sales? Does anyone know why he wanted the privacy anyway?” Anita asked.

  Shaking her head, Maggie said, “I’d imagine for this exact reason here. Look at how these women are going crazy over him.”

  “Well, he is a good-looking, sexy guy. I’m surprised he’s been able to hide his identity this long. Especially knowing so many women have already seen him,” Anita said.

  “Ladies, we’ve got a lot of work to do. I think it’s easier for us to do that without the television. We can focus better,” I said.

  They both nodded but kept peering at me.

  I turned away from Maggie’s prying eyes and Anita’s speculation. There was only so much that I could take.

  Bryce always wanted to become a famous author, but he didn’t like the attention that came with that fame. I recall how much he hated the attention their family got because of his father’s fame whenever they went on vacation.

  Bryce said he wanted to live a simple life and that his father hated that he’d plunged them into the midst of worldly inspection because of who he was.

  My mind returned to the work at hand of inspecting the inventory.

  I hadn’t realized he’d returned to L.A. so soon. Bryce was supposed to be with his family on Cormorant Island. I couldn’t help but wonder why he’d skipped that trip and returned home when that wasn’t part of his plan.

  No matter how much I tried to immerse myself in the task at hand, I couldn’t help but think about Bryce. Recalling the way his hands felt on my hips, the way my mouth tingled under his passionate kisses.

  My core was heated at the memory of how his dick felt pressing against me when I straddled him. Heat rushed to my face as my nipples hardened when they remembered how attentive he’d been to them.

  I felt myself growing hotter as I recalled how he’d filled me up. The memory of the pressure of his cock inside of me making me wet. The recollection of kissing him and tasting myself on his tongue after he’d eaten me out driving me insane.

  If it weren’t for the fire, I don’t think I would have regained the control I had. I would have lost myself in Bryce. Again.

  If it weren’t for my desire for him growing wildly out of control again, perhaps I wouldn’t be standing here now, sorting through burned inventory. If I’d focused on the purpose of our meeting, I would have noticed something amiss before then.

  Perhaps, I could have stopped the fire before it spread further, and I wouldn’t be knee-deep in destruction and loss. Unfortunately, I couldn’t roll back the hands of time.

  The only thing that I could do was stay focused on what I needed to do now and put memories of Bryce Hasaan Lexington far behind me.

  CHAPTER 16 – BRYCE

  REALITY HURT LIKE A motherfucker. I returned home for three days the day after the fire fiasco. That was how I dubbed that night in my head.

  After that, I’d gone on a six-week tour. No matter how busy my schedule had been, touring twelve cities signing books, and dealing with the revelation of my identity, I couldn’t get Peyton off my mind.

  With all the pressures of writing a new book and a deadline looming over me, I still couldn’t get that girl out of my head.

  Maybe that night wasn’t supposed to happen, and the fire was the universe’s way of letting us know that. I was playing with fire literally and metaphorically because I knew that I wasn’t ready for what Peyton was asking for. I needed to take my time and figure things out, and she was all or nothing.

  She had always been that girl. The one that placed demands on your heart and wasn’t willing to let go until she had it lock, stock, and barrel. Peyton needed more than I had to give.

  That’s part of the reason we hadn’t become involved sooner than now. I wasn’t trying to settle down with one chick, and Peyton was always all heart in completely dedicated to whatever she became involved in. And then she had reservations of her own.

  There was a time when we came so close to kissing that it was awkward for us for weeks afterward. Not to mention I was with Jackie at the time.

  Jackie was my only concession to trying to settle down, and that was a failure. Since then, I’d steered clear of anything that slightly resembled a relationship.

  “You good, my bruh?” my best friend, Thomas, asked as we chilled in front of the TV, sharing a beer.

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you heard shit I said over the last five minutes about this fight?”

  Glancing at the TV, I shook my head. “Hadn’t even realized it started.”

  “That’s what I figured. What’s her name?”

  “Who?”

  “The chick that’s got you brain dead today?”

  Sucking my teeth, I angled my head and glared at him. “You should know me better than that.”

  “I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure.”

  “Nah, I just need to get my ass moving on this book. I’ve put it off for too long now.”

  “Hell, you’ve been traveling across the country. It’s not like you’ve had time to write a book. Now that you’re home, you’ll get your ass in gear. I ain’t got no doubt,” Thomas said.

  “Yeah? Well, I wish I felt the same confidence.”

  “The hell. Why’re you so hard on yourself? And when are you gonna shave that shit off your face?” he asked, pointing at me.

  Laughing, I said, “What’s wrong, Tommy? You don’t like it?”

  “Your ass looks like a black Grizzly Adams, bruh.”

  “Think it kinda goes with my writer look. I might find myself a cabin in the mountains and hide. Maybe then some shit will come to me.”

  “You mean to tell me that freaky genius mind of yours
can’t come up with something to make the ladies panties wet, and what’s that slogan of yours?”

  “Permission to Shower After Reading #slipperywhenwet.”

  “Damn! You have a way of putting some shit on paper that makes the ladies want to drop their panties. I be quoting your shit and getting all types of pussy. Black pussy, white pussy, Hispanic pussy, Asian pussy, and Creole pussy.”

  I looked at my best friend and shook my head. “What the hell, Tommy? Creole? You say that shit like it’s a race or something.”

  “Shiddd, when you hit up that Creole pussy, your ass will think you’re in another country. Shit another galaxy. That’s some superhuman shit.”

  Laughing, I said, “I don’t know who in the hell you’ve been fucking with but sounds to me like she put some voodoo on your stupid ass. I’ve told you to watch where the hell you be sticking that dick. Shit’s gonna fall off one day.”

  Waving his hand, he said, “You jealous.”

  “Jealous of what, Tommy? Are you stealing my lines to grab a chick? Shit, I don’t need to quote a line. I can pull them on my own,” I replied.

  “That’s what’s wrong with your ass.”

  “What?”

  “Probably haven’t had no ass in a while. You hit up twelve different cities, and you should’ve had at least one pussy per city.”

  I stared at my friend.

  “What?” he asked with a shrug.

  “You’re a fucked up individual, Tommy.”

  “Not really. I just have a philosophy about life.”

  “Yeah, I know your philosophy. How much can I stick within a day? Tell you what, why don’t you get started on that while I head back to my office and see what I can get on paper.”

  “Damn, bruh. You kicking me out your shit?” he asked, standing.

  “Nope, just sending you on your way so that you can start on your mission.”

  “Whatever. You just want to sit around moping about some broad. I don’t know who that chick is,” Thomas said when he got to the door. “But you let me know how that works out for ya.”

  I snickered as he stepped out the door and closed it behind him.

  Now time to get to business. I got up, locked the door behind Thomas, and headed straight for my office. My struggle with writing hadn’t ceased. I don’t know if maybe I needed a change of venue or what, but everything I cranked out I hated.

  I pulled up the live feed on my laptop that I’d been checking out over the last couple of weeks. Peyton had started a live stream of the restoration process for the residents of Summer Cove and nearby towns to follow. The irony was she’d used it to keep them updated on the progress, but people beyond North Carolina began following it.

  Someone leaked the details that Ryan Warren had recently held a book signing there. And that was enough to generate the necessary interest that sent in funding for any additional expenses that arose beyond her insurance.

  Ari was the source of that particular leak, and I would never share that tiny detail. It was at my urging that she’d done that. Not to mention I’d personally anonymously donated twenty grand to the cause.

  I’d reached out to her twice since leaving Summer Cove, and she hadn’t returned any of my calls. Only once had she responded to a text message, and that was simply to say she was busy and didn’t think she’d have time to “chat” any time soon. The rest of my messages had gone unreturned, and I’d simply given up for now.

  Although it bothered me deeply, I had to admit that Peyton was right. Neither of us had time for anything more than friendship, and we were on different pages about what that friendship should look like.

  So for now, getting glimpses of her on the live feed would have to suffice. Some days I could see more of her than others because she worked the register. But then there were days like today that I only saw her fleetingly. I’d caught a glimpse of her this morning when she welcomed everyone to the day, and then she disappeared into her office.

  Bishop shared with me that things were progressing at a good rate of speed, and the entire construction project, including renovations from the fire, should be complete within a couple of weeks. Just in time for the Labor Day weekend.

  I knew I’d probably miss the grand re-opening as I would hopefully be fully immersed in my newest series, Juicy Weapons.

  Just as I was preparing to get off the live feed and turn my attention back to work, I saw Peyton step into view. Her long hair swung side to side, pulled up on top of her head into a high ponytail.

  She wore a long-sleeved grey UNC t-shirt with some short cutoff white denim shorts. White tennis shoes on her feet and no socks showed off long tanned, curvy legs and slim ankles. Someone off-camera said something to her making her smile, and her brilliant blue eyes sparkle.

  Just as quickly, the smile turned into a scowl, and I wondered what happened. I focused on her lips, trying to read what she said to no avail. Finally, she shook her head and turned away from the person she was speaking to and headed in the direction of her office.

  Moments later, I saw a man heading in the same direction. Tall, reed-thin, and blonde, I recognized him when he glanced over his shoulder as Jacob Taylor. Peyton’s ex-husband. I’d seen his grimy ass around campus a few times when he’d come to pick up Peyton.

  What the fuck was he doing in Summer Cove? And most importantly, why was he at Peyton’s store?

  I watched the camera for a few more moments, and then I couldn’t take it anymore. Dialing the store, Maggie answered the phone, and I disguised my voice and asked to speak to Peyton. I was told that she was in an important meeting and wouldn’t be available for at least another hour.

  An hour?

  My next call was to Bishop.

  “Yo, wassup?” he greeted.

  “I’on know that’s what I’m calling you to find out, lil’ bruh. Wassup with old girl? Peyton.”

  “I don’t know what you mean, Bryce. Everything’s cool with the reno crew. She’s got that live feed link that I sent you. Have you checked it out lately?”

  “Yeah, that’s the reason I called you. Her ex-husband is in town, and he showed up at the store. Do you know what he’s in town for?”

  “Jacob Taylor? Hell, nah. But I can’t imagine it’s anything good.”

  “Can you check on her for me?”

  “Wait. What’s going on, dude?”

  “Nothing. I just want to make sure she’s good.”

  “Bryce, it’s me, man. Don’t give me that shit. Run that game on somebody else, bruh. What’s going on with you and this broad?”

  “I told you she’s just—”

  “And I told you I ain’t buying it. If her ex came to town, so fucking what, Bryce. There’s more to the story than you’re telling, and if you expect me to get involved, I need to know why.”

  I wasn’t even sure I understood myself, so how could I explain it to my brother. But I knew I needed to give him something if I wanted to gain some information.

  “Jacob hurt Peyton and took her through a lot in their marriage. I can’t imagine what he wants with her now, but since she’s been doing this live stream and generating interest and money, I suspect he’s up to some bullshit. I just don’t want her falling for his lame ass again. Because I know he’s probably trying to run game on her. Just make your presence known, show your face, and his punk ass will probably run off,” I said.

  Sighing, Bishop said, “A’ight. I just finished up with our wedding planner, and G’s heading out to the island with Aaliyah, Karina, and Seda. I’ll run over and see what’s going on.”

  “Just keep her on point is all I ask, man.”

  “Gotcha, big bruh.”

  “And keep me posted when you find out something.”

  “Gotcha.”

  We hung up the phone, and I sat back and sighed. Another glance at the screen showed the men working on the store but no Peyton. I’d just have to patiently bide my time to learn what the hell Jacob Taylor was up to now and if Peyton had bit the bait, he
was offering.

  CHAPTER 17 – PEYTON

  OVER-INUNDATED. IS that a word? According to Merriam-Webster, it’s not. But it should be.

  Policy reviews, filling out insurance forms, follow-ups with the fire station for the report to send to the insurance company, the walk-through with my insurance adjuster, disputing the original estimate.

  I’d received a phone call that my sister was expecting another baby and wanted to know if I could come down to help with her other three. Surprisingly, I had no problem saying, “no.” She was with her husband and in-laws, and I wasn’t sure why they couldn’t help.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t love my sister or care about her, but I had my burdens.

  All of that had me at wit's end.

  With everything that happened over the last six weeks, the last thing I expected was for Jacob to show up at my store unannounced.

  Initially, I’d rejected his request to see me when Anita announced his arrival. But he was persistent and refused to leave, and the only thing preventing Anita from, in her words, “breaking her size ten off in his ass,” was my decision to allow him back to my office.

  “What can I do for you, Jacob?” I asked once I was safely behind my desk.

  Despite my determination to appear aloof and unbothered by his presence, I was anything but that. My fingers rested in my lap hidden underneath the desk, nervously fidgeting with a pencil.

  He perched on the edge of the chair on the opposite side of my desk.

  “I just wanted to visit you, Peyton. To see how you were doing?”

  “We don’t just visit, Jacob. You haven’t visited me in the last year and a half since our divorce. So, what’s up?” I asked, twisting and turning that pencil and squeezing it. I was surprised it didn’t break under pressure.

  Shrugging, he combed his fingers through his long strands of golden blonde hair. Funny, I used to love running my fingers through his hair, but now I found myself comparing them to the textured, prickly feel of Bryce’s hair underneath my fingertips. The way his short strands curled around my fingers and still held a different texture at the very tips that tickled my finger. So different than Jacob’s nondescript texture.