by Holt, Mina
Three feet between Gavin and my trembling Kindle. My hands betrayed my nervousness. I was usually so detached and in control.
“Seriously,” Jenny screamed, “I can’t see a fucking thing!”
“I want him to sign my cover and I’ll get out of the way,” I said, not looking back.
“Where is he?” Jenny squealed and I felt her hands hit the small of my back with a mighty shove.
I was unbalanced from leaning over the velvet rope to see Gavin as it was, and with her help, I pitched face first directly into the path of the hottest man on the planet.
My Kindle went flying and I saw his body guards move towards me, ready to drag me off.
“Wait,” Gavin’s voice broke through the noise, “hang on.”
The women around us went quiet and a hush took over the place. I struggled to get up, but ended up feeling a little like a turtle on its back. The skirt had twisted and tangled in my legs and my arm was bent underneath me.
“I’m okay,” I squawked and tried to right myself.
Within seconds he was beside me, kneeling on the carpet near my face and sliding his hands underneath the front of me. “Let me help you, love,” he said and I swear I melted into a pool of idiotic woman right in front of him.
“It’s okay, I’m okay,” I said again, but I didn’t know if I was trying to convince him or myself.
He smelled like heaven. Like a cool breeze on a hot day, like masculinity wrapped up in the prettiest package you’ve ever seen. Like hot sand and salty waves washing over your naked body.
I’m sure I was redder than I’d ever been in my life; it was a mortifying and strangely satisfying experience. It was like the entire world had shrunk down to just Gavin and Sarai.
He hooked his hands under my armpits and stood up, pulling me with him. He was a good eight inches taller than me and was like a wall of solid, ridged muscle. His arms bulged, not with the strain of pulling me up, but on their own like they were proud to belong to a man like him.
“Are you all right, love?” he asked and looked into my eyes. Amusement painted his face and I was so close I could count the whiskers on his five o’clock shadow.
“I’m good,” I whispered and stared into his eyes. They were green and flecked with grey; I’d never noticed that in the hundreds of photos I’d seen of him. Then again, I’d probably been like every other woman on the planet and completely focused on his abs.
“OH MY GOD!” Jenny squealed and rushed to my side, “Are you okay Sarai? Oh my god, I hope you didn’t hurt yourself.”
She took my arm and shook Gavin’s hand. He smiled at me, never breaking eye contact and asked me, “Do you know this woman? Can I trust you in her care?”
“I’m her best friend,” Jenny declared and tugged on my arm. Gavin hadn’t removed his from under my arm. His huge hand cupped my ribcage and he could surely feel my heart pounding under his grasp.
“She is,” I said, my voice dry and threatening to give out on me at any moment. “I’ll be okay. I’m okay.” I really needed to work on some new material in case I ever fell in front of the hottest man in the world again.
“I’ll leave you to her then,” he said and removed his arm. I felt suddenly alone, vulnerable and weak without his hand on me. His bodyguard handed me my Kindle and Jenny and I ducked back under the red velvet rope.
He turned back once and winked at me, and he was gone. He moved graciously down the line of screaming women, smiling and talking to as many of them as he could.
He eventually made it to his own table at the head of the event, far from us lowly bloggers who were stashed away in a back room.
Jenny waited long enough to make sure I wasn’t going to fall, turned to me and said, “Did you see that?”
“I know, right?”
“The way he stared, that was intense!”
“You noticed that?” I said, flattered that she caught on to the weird little moment of contact between Gavin and I.
“Of course I did,” she exclaimed, “he couldn’t keep his eyes off me.”
In typical Jenny fashion, she ditched me to get a Gavin James autograph. As I made my way back to my empty table, it occurred to me that I hadn’t even gotten him to sign my Kindle cover.
I supposed it didn’t matter though, I could still feel his fingers burning hot on my skin. He marked me for life, whether the world could see it or not.
Chapter Three
“Thanks for the swag, I love the bookmarks,” said one of the endless readers who paraded in front of my barren table. I had been cleaned out of my good stuff hours ago. All I had left were some lame hand made bookmarks and a few postcards from last year’s big bestseller list.
I did okay with the blog, it wasn’t my day job but it offered me an escape into the kinds of books I loved and if I had a reason for doing it, I didn’t feel as guilty. They weren’t exactly great literature, but I didn’t feel like such a lame duck if I was reading them for a purpose.
“You’re welcome, make sure to like us on Facebook and sign up for our mailing list,” I said to the girl’s retreating form.
“You never told me what you thought about my review,” Jenny said, breaking into my train of thought. She was sitting next to me, bored after the highlight of her day. She’d come back about an hour after leaving me for Gavin James’ line up. She’d whipped open her shirt and showed her own boob autograph. Gavin’s writing was illegible, but Jenny claimed he’d written ‘only have eyes for you’ but I swore it looked more like ‘good luck on your book’. He probably thought she was an author.
“I liked it,” I said, “it was pretty funny and I think I can use it.” Jenny had begged me for weeks to blog with me, and I’d finally given in when my ‘to be read’ list threatened to tumble over and crush me under its weight. She had surprised me and the review really wasn’t that bad. With some polishing and a little tweaking, it would be useable.
“Oh good,” she replied and sipped at her double chocolate espresso cappuccino whatever the heck she was drinking and smiled at me. “It’s funny,” she went on in a tone that told me this was gonna be good, “I used to think you were such a nerd for having your face stuck in a book. In high school I had no idea what the hell you were talking about half the time, all you had was book learning. I was out on the street getting my education from real life.”
“Uh huh,” I said in a non-committal tone. She was about as street as one of Auntie G’s cats. Jenny was raised in a nice neighbourhood with parents who loved her and spent money on her like it was the cure to some disease she had. She wasn’t exactly schooled in the university of hard knocks.
“I remember when that Fifty Shades book came out, you were the first to read it. It was my official first book other than the shit they force you to read in English class. As you know, I was hooked, but I still didn’t get into it like you did.”
“You didn’t really get hooked on reading until you discovered the cover models,” I said and laughed.
“You’re right, and the people. I mean the community this book world has is amazing. I really want to be part of it.”
She meant she wanted to be part of it without trying. I built my blog from the ground up, I’d put countless hours and ever spare dollar I had into it over the last three years. I had over thirty thousand followers on Facebook and almost seventy five thousand on my newsletter list. She had no clue how much work I’d done building my little empire.
“I know you do,” I said, “and I’ve had reviewers before. It’s cool.”
“I don’t want to just be a reviewer,” she replied, “I want to be a part of the blog. Like a co-blogger or part owner or something.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I said, “Let’s start out small, have you do a couple more reviews. Then we’ll see about the rest, okay?”
She pouted, sipped her obnoxiously long coffee drink and finally said, “Fine, but I want to review the new Rebecca Hawk book. Okay?”
I sighed and brushed hair
out of my face. I should have put it in a bun or something, but Jenny flipped out when I suggested it. It was my best feature, according to her, and I should work it. “Okay, it’s a deal. I’ll email her PA and make sure I’m authorized to give it to you and you can get it done for next Friday.”
“You’re such a narc,” she giggled, “you need to loosen up. I’m sure they wouldn’t give two shits if you sent it my way. And see what making me a partner will do? It will free up so much time. People will know that it will be you or me reviewing, no questions asked.”
“I guess you have a point, but for now I have to get permission.”
“Sure thing, officer,” she laughed and sipped her drink again. Loudly. Slurp slurp. I felt bad, hating on Jenny sometimes, but let’s face it, she could be really annoying.
“Did you get anything else autographed?” I asked, wanting to change the subject. I wasn’t comfortable sharing my blog with her, but I felt like she’d already hitched me to her train and was going to drag me wherever she wanted, like it or not. I longed for the good old days when the book thing was nerdy and she paid no attention to it.
“Nope,” she replied, “I totally forgot to give him my postcard. Just my boobs.” She snickered and fell into some private memory. I wish I had given him my Kindle cover before he’d gone, but there was no way I could face Gavin James after my tumble to the floor right in front of him.
“Well, we should probably pack it up pretty soon,” I said, “it’s almost five and I have to finish up a couple books tonight.”
“What?” she asked and whipped around in her chair to face me, “you’re not going to the Mix and Mingle at seven?”
“Why would I? I never have before.”
“I thought that was the whole point, to meet new people, network, and get drunk.”
“I don’t really drink, you know that.”
“But I do,” she said with a sly grin, “come on Sarai, we haven’t been out together since college. Let’s get this shit packed up and go to the after party. Come on.”
I hesitated and thought about it. On one hand there was my cozy bedroom and soft bed waiting, a cup of hot cocoa and a thrilling new book to dive into. On the other hand there was appeasing Jenny so she’d leave me alone for another few months and stop endlessly pestering me about ‘hitting the clubs’ with her.
Bed, cozy, book. Jenny endlessly begging. Damn, this was a tough choice.
“Gavin James is supposed to be there,” she said, “he told me when I got my boobs signed. You have to come with me, I need to see if what I felt was real.”
I sighed again, as I often did in Jenny’s presence. “Fine,” I said, not wanting to see Gavin again, but also on some level kinda hoping he’d be there.
“Yay!” she said and stood up, leaving her take out coffee cup on the table. “I’m going to go tell those girls from the Dirty Bishes Book Blog, they’re a hoot and have been dying to party with us.”
She scampered off, leaving me with her garbage and a table of tired old swag to clean up and pack back to my car.
I stood up, grabbed a box and started tossing the bookmarks into it. I heard a small commotion a few tables up, a buzzing sound in the crowd of women just outside the doors in the other room.
I looked up and saw a small crowd forming.
The women parted like the red sea, and Gavin James strolled towards me with a purposeful intent. His long strides almost shook the ground as he walked, and his shirt strained against his huge chest muscles. I wondered what kind of space age thread kept his buttons from popping, he was seriously about to burst out of it like that thing on the Alien movies.
I forced myself to close my mouth as I watched him walk past me, make it two tables, scan the rest of the women in the room and turn back. He walked directly to me and I thought I was going to fall over from sheer fright and delight.
“Hey there,” he said with a grin on his face, “I wanted to make sure you were okay after your little stumble.”
“How kind of you to call it a stumble,” I replied, wondering where I found my voice and amazing myself with my ability to talk to Gavin Fucking James like he was a regular human mortal. “I’d call it more of a knock out, fall down, full body flail.” I flashed a little grin of my own afterwards to let him know I was kidding. I pushed my glasses up my nose and waited for him to reply.
“You hardly flailed,” he said and kept grinning, “you were very graceful about it, even when your legs were helicoptering above your head. Nice panties by the way.” He winked and my helicopter legs just about gave in right then. I almost had another fall; this one wouldn’t be as graceful as the last.
I blushed bright red though, and felt the heat in my cheeks. “Uh, thanks,” I mumbled.
“I’m sorry, I went too far. Let’s take a step back, to a point before I said the wrong thing and upset a beautiful woman,” he said. His accent was unreal, I wanted to close my eyes and listen to him read from the phonebook. Voice porn, I never knew there could be such a thing.
“It’s okay,” I said, “I’m okay.”
“You say that an awful lot, love,” he replied, “but are you?”
“I really am. I’m okay.”
“Okay then.” He smiled again and I lost my head…again.
“Okay.”
“Let’s start this entire thing over, from before the fall, shall we?” He stuck out his hand, his forearm was perfect, a slight brush of hair covering the thick muscles and beautiful tattoos. I’d read somewhere that they had meaning, but he’d never shared during any interviews. “My name is Gavin James, I’m pleased to meet you.”
I took his hand and felt an electric jolt that almost knocked the wind out of me. His hand was perfect, dry and smooth, strong but not too strong. Perfection in five digits. “My name is Sarai Britton,” I replied, “and I’m also pleased. To meet you.” I stumbled a little but managed to get the words out.
The crowd was thickening and women were whispering to themselves in envious voices. I was the centre of attention, and on some level I was revelling in it, but on another level I wanted to crawl under a rock and go back to a place where people weren’t recording my every move on their phones.
“Will you be attending the event at seven?”
“I, uh, no. Wait, yes, I will be going.”
“I hope to see you there,” he said and smiled.
“I do hope to see you there as well,” I replied, cringing on the inside at how dull I sounded. I was like a parrot, just repeating his words back to him, seemingly nothing going on in my head.
“Do you need help with this?” he asked and pointed at the swag and banners set up behind my table.
“I should be okay,” I said.
“You’re always okay, aren’t you Sarai?” he said, his smile gone. In its place was a look of tender concern. If the smile wasn’t enough to melt my heart and my panties, this look was. He could snap his fingers and I would probably tear my own clothes off for him, right then and there.
“I really am,” I assured him.
“Well, I won’t take no for an answer,” he said and placed his hand on my arm. “Guys, let’s help this lovely young lady pack her things up.” He did snap his fingers then, and the two bodyguards jumped straight to it, dismantling my banners and getting everything into a few boxes.
And that is how my life changed. How I ended up walking to my shitty little car chatting with the hottest man in the world, and slowly falling in love.
Chapter Four
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jenny shrieked when she found out about my visitor, “do you think he come looking for me?”
“He said he wanted to see how I was doing, he was worried about me,” I replied and stared pointedly at her. She didn’t seem to suffer the same problem, she hadn’t thought about my fall since it happened, even though she had been the source.
“Huh,” she said and stared at me in the mirror as if seeing me for the first time. “Well, I guess we’ll see him in an hour
or so. He did say he’s going to the mingle thing, right?”
“Yeah, he mentioned it.”
We were freshening up in the hotel bathroom. Since we lived in the city, we didn’t need to get a room, but it would have been nice to redo make up and apply deodorant somewhere more private. I ignored her scrutiny and attempted to smoky my eyes like she’d taught me.
“Are you the one who talked to Gavin James?” a girl asked from behind us.
Jenny and I turned in unison and replied, “Yes,” at exactly the same time.
“I mean you,” the girl said and pointed at me, “I have it on my phone. Ohmigod what was it like? I would have died, but you looked so composed. How did you manage that? How did you not faint right there?”
“It was pretty surreal,” I said and avoided looking at Jenny although I could see her twisted annoyed face out of the corner of my eye. “He’s really quite a nice guy though.”
“Of course he goes for the hot librarian type,” the girl’s friend said and rolled her eyes. She looked at herself in the mirror; she was a gorgeous girl-next-door type herself, with thick wavy honey blonde hair and bright blue eyes. “Ugh, I should just kill myself now.”
“Shut up! You’re gorgeous and you know it,” the first girl said and they both left the bathroom, laughing and talking about what they’d do to Gavin if they got five minutes alone with him. It felt strange to hear them saying such vulgar things about the hottest man in the world, and somebody who I’d chatted with as we’d loaded my book event stuff into my car. Still, it was odd to hear girls like that with envy in their voices.
“Who was she talking about?” I asked Jenny, not sure I was the one they meant.
“You, dummy,” she replied, “although I wouldn’t call you hot. You’re cute, and the glasses give you that sexy look that’s so in right now. Let me try them on.”