by Mia Kayla
A moan escaped his mouth as my fingers pressed against his skin.
Then, a door flew open down the alley, and I jumped. Automatically, Josh pushed me behind himself and sheltered me with his body, his breathing labored, his eyes alert.
An older guy with gray hair was holding a black garbage bag.
In all the hoopla, we hadn’t noticed we were right next to a restaurant exit and some dumpsters.
My eyes flew to the busy street at the end of the alleyway. There didn’t seem to be anyone with cameras looming on the sidewalk.
I let out a thankful low sigh and looked up at Josh, my mouth still burning from his kisses.
His eyes were unreadable.
“You okay?” Josh asked.
Was I?
I didn’t know. My life had been turned upside down and inside out.
My thoughts brought me to Hawke and this situation I was now in because of him, but I couldn’t deny that unbelievable kiss from Josh. A kiss that had triggered a tingling from the baby hairs on the crown of my head down to the tips of my little pinkie toes.
This was crazy.
He intertwined his fingers with mine and placed our hands against his chest. The thumping of his heart matched the pulse in my wrist. “Crazy intense,” he whispered. It was as if he could read my mind, his brown eyes penetrating mine.
Comfortable silence ticked by until I tore my gaze from his.
He glanced behind himself. “I think they’re gone.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t know what I was thanking him for—saving me from the photographers or that unbelievable kiss.
The insane part of me wanted him to kiss me again, but that would be a bad idea. Kisses with Josh would only lead to more, and right now, I had more than I could handle.
When he stepped away, a strong wind chilled the heat I’d felt moments ago. Up close, Josh provided an easy comfort. Now, awkwardness filled the air, and my gaze veered to the right at nothing in particular. I didn’t know what to do next.
Acknowledge the kiss or not?
“Anytime you want me to do that again,” he said, “you just let me know.”
I laughed. And, just like that, the weirdness was gone. I fiddled with the edge of Jim’s hoodie “I should be getting home.”
“Not before you have dinner with me first.”
I blinked up at him. “What?”
“Well, I think you owe me.”
Shoot, because of today’s fiasco, I owed quite a lot of people.
“I just let you feel me up, so I think you owe me,” I joked back.
Amusement showed on his face. “Plus, those photographers you’re running from might be lurking around. I say you wait a while unless you want them to know where you live.”
I scrunched my nose. Too bad they probably already knew.
“All righty,” I conceded. “Where to?”
He tightened his hold around my fingers, bringing that familiar sense of comforting warmth to the surface. I barely knew him, but it felt natural, walking with Josh’s hand wrapped around mine.
“Anywhere but here,” he said.
Chapter 14
Even in my baggy clothes, I didn’t want to risk being recognized, so we ended up walking along the lake on Lake Shore Drive until the sun set in front of us, and the moon’s silver light was shining over the water.
Good thing I hadn’t gone home because Chloe had texted to let me know that our street was flooded with paps just waiting for my arrival.
Great. Just Great.
We plopped down on the concrete, our chosen spot overlooking the city. The building lights shone brightly in front of us, and the cool autumn breeze brushed against my skin as our feet dangled only a few feet above the water of Lake Michigan.
I lifted my head and took a calming breath, trying to put the chaos of work, of Hawke, of all my worries behind me.
When I opened my eyes, Josh was staring at me with a look of curiosity. “I think I have a few theories.”
I laughed and motioned with my hands for him to continue.
“So, you didn’t rob a bank?”
I shook my head, grinning.
With his thumb and his forefinger, he rubbed at his chin, as though in deep thought. “I think you’re a real-life princess.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, playing along and laughing at the seriousness in his tone.
“From the land of Princessovia. And you came to the United States to escape the madness and responsibilities of being the next heir.” He tipped his head for confirmation. “Am I right?”
I offered a noncommittal shrug. “Is that why you tried to fit a glass slipper on my foot?”
He pointed to me. “Exactly.”
I decided to let him in on my secret. “Nope. Wrong. But what if I told you that I was dating—or had dated—a rock star?” Saying it out loud sounded unbelievable, even to my own ears.
His smile faltered, only slightly. “Rock star, huh?”
I nodded.
“What’s said rock star’s name?”
I gulped, realizing I wanted to let it out, to let someone else in on my secret, besides Chloe. Not that the rest of the world didn’t already know now. “Hawke.”
Hawke didn’t need an introduction or his last name to be said.
Josh’s mouth slipped slightly ajar. “You’re kidding…”
I focused on the city in front of me, the twinkling of the lights from the skyscrapers within my focus. “Nope.”
The squawk of a bird flying above us filled my ears as it soared through the sky, and I wished it were me. I wished I could escape, like the bird disappearing above the clouds, unnoticeable to anyone, free to do whatever it wanted.
Josh was quiet for a moment and then cleared his throat. “Figures, a beautiful girl like you would be with the lead singer of a world-famous band.”
I shook my head. “It’s not like that.”
Every time I thought of Hawke, my heart would be weighed down because of the unknown.
“Live in the moment,” he’d said.
And the moments together were exciting, but they were also brief and fleeting.
“I mean, we were dating or something, and then we weren’t.” My forehead wrinkled, and I dropped my eyes, watching the ripples of the waves at my feet. “We weren’t exclusive, and I’m not sure we’re anything now.” Saying it was like a punch in the gut. It wasn’t like I was going to force him into a relationship if he didn’t want to be. “I mean…it wasn’t specifically said. I really did think it was over until he called me today.”
Josh angled closer, his voice soft, his eyes sincere. “You know you’re worth more than that.”
I glanced up at him, my knee touching his. “I genuinely like him. And maybe it’s wishful thinking or hope blooming in my chest because I believe in fairy tales and happily ever afters and all that stuff girls believe in, but I swear, he felt something for me, too. At least…I thought he did.” I averted my gaze, feeling silly and a lot embarrassed that those words had slipped out.
I hadn’t imagined it. Hawke had said he loved me; he’d said that it was only me. But, if I’d meant more to him, if I had been more than a random fling, then I was worth more than a few random texts.
“No doubt.” His eyes narrowed, as though he were thinking deeply. “There is no doubt in my mind that he’s head over heels for you, Sam.”
“Shut up,” I said, bumping my shoulder with his. Now was not the time for sarcasm.
“You think I’m kidding?” He shook his head and sighed.
Then, he reached for my hand again, and I peered down at our connection. It was as though my palm had been made to fit perfectly in his.
“And he’d better not screw up because I’m sure anyone would be happy to hold your heart.” His eyes held such sincerity that a rush of pink stained my cheeks.
“Please,” I scoffed. “You and your lines.”
He shook our intertwined hands. “I’m for real.”
The intensity o
f his gaze was so serene, so compelling, that I couldn’t help but believe him. I focused on the water hitting the concrete beneath my feet, reveling in the calmness, because I knew that it would be temporary, and tomorrow would be even more crazy than today.
I worried about work, about if the paps would disrupt my job—the job I needed to pay the bills and put me through school. I hadn’t applied to Cordon Bleu yet, and if I wanted to achieve my dreams, the clock was ticking. My thoughts were a jumbled mess.
The length of the stressful day had my shoulders sagging. Josh must have sensed my tiredness because he gathered me onto his lap. There was a tranquility that surrounded Josh that made me jealous.
In a continuous motion, he rubbed the center of my back. He held me in silence, and eventually, my breathing evened out.
We looked like an odd couple—me in my baggy clothes and Josh in his polo shirt and dress pants. I laughed and cowered into his shirt as I thought about it.
“What?” A glint of curiosity was heavy in his tone.
I peered up at him. “We’re a funny-looking couple.”
The vibrations of his laughter lightened my insides. “That we are, Princess. That we are.”
Staring into his warm dark chocolate eyes, I wondered how he had become so peaceful. I wished I could find peace like that.
Suddenly, years ago seemed like yesterday as memories came back. The pain from my mother’s death was the same; it never lessened. I craved his calmness.
I slipped off his lap and sat up straighter. “Can you tell me more about her? About your mom?”
His lips pressed into a smile, no teeth, and he nodded.
With his free hand, he picked a rock off the ground and tossed it into the lake. “Kathy Stanton, mother extraordinaire. She was my favorite person in the universe. Her presence would light up a room; her smile could brighten anyone’s bad mood.” His eyes clouded with old memories. “She was stunningly beautiful, and my dad was constantly jealous at the looks she’d get from other men, but that was nothing compared to her inner beauty.” His voice quieted at the end.
He tore his gaze from mine and lifted his eyes to the night sky. “She taught me more about life in the time that she was dying than I’d ever learned in my whole life. Toward the end, she lived for me and Casey. She told me there was no point in living life if you weren’t happy.” His stare grazed my face. “Words so simple, but they packed a punch. I realized, nothing else mattered.”
He blew out a breath and faced me. “Do you know Stanton Steel?”
I shook my head.
“The largest steel corporation in the nation?”
It still didn’t ring a bell. I shrugged.
He pointed to himself. “Josh Stanton, not of Stanton Steel.” He cringed and made a face, as though he’d eaten something spoiled and rotten and corporate.
“This is your long story?” When he nodded, I continued, “You didn’t want to go into the family business?”
“Nope. I knew I wanted to be a lawyer ever since I interned at a law firm my junior year in high school.”
Everything seemed to make sense—a life puzzle fitting together like a game of Tetris.
“So, they disowned you?” I asked softly. “Because you didn’t want to go into the family business? Is that why your father was mad at dinner?”
“Nope, more like I disowned them.” He picked up another rock next to him and tossed it in the lake. “Taking money from my family is like blood money. I’d feel like I owed them something, and I don’t want to owe them anything.”
“So, your dad is pressuring you?” I bit my tongue, willing myself to stop with the interrogation. Curious Cat was taking no prisoners today.
The way he shifted with unease let me know this discussion wasn’t his favorite topic.
He drew back, his eyes conflicted. “Nope, it’s not even him. It’s more my grandfather. What concerns my father is me working at Nordstrom to make ends meet when he could just hand me the money. The law firm I intern for now pays me close to peanuts.” He smiled, looking genuinely proud of himself. “But the thing is…I like peanuts.”
I stared at the person in front of me, the one who seemed so carefree but was also riddled with his own family problems.
I tilted my head, assessing the boyishly adorable male with the warmest brown eyes. “That says a lot about your character—that you’d give up making millions with your family business to do what you love.” I angled closer and nodded. “And it’s awe-inspiring.”
“Thanks, Sam.” For a brief second, his eyes became distant. “But, sometimes, when I see how it’s tearing my family apart, I wonder if it’s worth it.”
I bumped my shoulder against his. “It will be worth it. I promise you that. You just have to follow your dreams, do what you want.”
But I, of all people, knew that, without the resources, this was easier said than done. There were bills to pay and school loans to apply for.
“Follow your dreams.” His jaw tightened, and he placed his hand on top of mine, his eyes never breaking contact. “That’s what my mother always said. And, before she died, she made sure we were out of my grandfather’s grasp. That’s why we moved from New York, where Stanton Steel’s headquarters are located, to Chicago.”
I hadn’t known his mother, but I admired her strength, and I was envious of the unconditional love that she had shown her children.
I nodded and squeezed his hand. “I could imagine that was hard, but you have to do what’s right for you.”
The only sound between us was the lake, the swish of the waves rippling back and forth.
He blinked and stared at the water in front of us before meeting my eyes. “Tell me about your mom.”
I inhaled deeply as her face was pulled to the forefront of my mind. Memories of happier times played in my head like a movie. “We were attached at the hip.” My breathing slowed as my thoughts brought me back to my childhood. “We shared everything. She wasn’t just my mom. She was my best friend. I lived with a real-life hippie, high on life.” I smiled as thoughts of my mom and her carefree personality pushed to the surface.
“She loved my father beyond reason.” I inhaled deeply. “She told me stories about how they’d met, about falling in love within weeks, and marrying a month later.”
I focused on the water beneath us, the aqua blue slapping against the dark rocks. “She loved him even though he wasn’t right for her. Even though he made her feel worthless because he was insecure.” I swallowed a lump in the back of my throat and forced my next words out. “He was her life, and when he left…” My voice quivered. “When he left…she didn’t want to live anymore.”
I cowered into myself, my hands pressing to my stomach. “She spiraled into a depression. It was weird, seeing her so high on life one minute and doped up on antidepressants the next. I’d never felt so alone, so helpless. I was the only one who knew.”
I took a deep breath. “She was dependent. It was like she needed it, and when she broke her ankle, they put her on opiates. So it was her antidepressants mixed with Vicodin.” A visible shudder left my body. “After that, she’d take anything and everything, so she wouldn’t feel. Oxycontin, Percocet, Fluoxetine.”
Josh’s hands wrapped tightly around my shoulders, but I gently shook him off. His consoling touch would break me.
“So, I did what I thought would make her happy. I baked every day and forced her to do the same. It was our passion since she’d taught me how to bake. We continued to bring baked goods to the nursing homes and homeless shelter, as we’d done before. I thought I was breaking her out of her funk.” My lips felt dry, and my stomach clenched with sadness as I remembered what happened next.
“Cold?” Josh asked, rubbing his hands up and down my arms.
I shook my head. I was cold on the inside, not the outside. “And then she received the divorce papers.” My hands wrung together in my lap, chapped from the continual process. “And that’s when things got worse.”
&nb
sp; I didn’t realize that tears had escaped my eyes until Josh pulled me to his side, his lips pressing to my forehead, and this time, I didn’t push him away because I needed the ice in my chest to thaw. I basked in the comfort of his embrace, that consoling touch.
I decided I needed it out. I hadn’t talked about it in such a long time that I needed to be free of the thoughts that had been weighing me down.
I shivered as another round of painful memories bombarded my mind. “I knew she wasn’t getting any better. The day I found her, an empty bottle of prescription drugs were by her bed along with a note telling me she was sorry.” I swiped under my eyes, willing the tears to stop, but they wouldn’t. They couldn’t.
I hadn’t cried for my mother in years, and now, I’d done it three times in front of a guy I barely knew.
“I’m sorry,” Josh whispered. Gently, he pulled both of my hands into his lap and held them tightly in his own, brushing his thumb on the top of my fist. “You know it’s not your fault.”
“But it is…” I choked on the saliva coating the back of my throat as my mind was burned with the memory. “Because I saw the signs, and I didn’t tell anyone. I sat in the room as she cried and didn’t do anything about it. I baked her cookies for weeks, thinking that would break her from her funk. I was stupid. I should’ve known. I should’ve known. I should’ve…I should’ve done more.” More to help her, more to stop the out-of-control consumption of pills. If I had done more, she’d be here. She’d be alive.
“Look at me, Sam,” he coaxed softly.
I shook my head. I couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t see the pity and sorrow in them that was recognizable in everyone’s eyes that knew my story.
He didn’t give in. His voice was gentle but coercing. “Open your eyes, and look at me.”
The tone of his voice had me blinking my eyes open. My vision filled with Josh’s warm eyes staring back at me. No pity, no blame, just compassion.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
My finger swiped at the hot tear that had rolled down my cheek, but he pulled my hand down.
“She was not well,” he said firmly. “Depression is a sickness, a disease. You did all you could. Deep down inside, you know this is true.”