Rev

by Chloe Plume

  I rushed back to the bathroom with the file tucked under my arm. I closed the door and turned the shower off, and yanked the window up.

  “Hey, what’s taking so long,” Ace shouted, knocking on the door.

  Nothing, babe…”

  Asshole.

  I pushed out the screen, climbed out onto the lawn, and ran. I mean, I ran as fast as I could. I didn’t look back. I was out of breath by the time I reached Dean’s silver Pontiac, parked in a dark nook off the side of the street.

  Dean saw the file under my arm and nodded, starting the car. Our eyes met, and we both smiled. We still had to get to Roman before Ace. But, against all odds and for the first time since we met, we had a real chance. I was already thinking about our future together. I was overjoyed.

  Chapter 29

  “What are these?” I asked as Saylor placed a tray of warm, golden cookies in front of me.

  “Swedish Spice Cookies—my grandmother’s recipe.”

  I looked up at her and shook my head. “How do you know all this?”

  She pointed to the tray. “Try them.”

  “A little fancy for my taste…chocolate chip is all I…”

  Holy fuck.

  My mind went blank at the first bite. “That’s pretty damn good Saylor.” My palette began to pick up on the medley of spices. “That’s complex but it’s got a nice punch of flavor.” I looked up at her. “You know, you should start a restaurant.”

  “First things first.” Saylor walked back to our small kitchen. “But no more TV dinners, Dean. We’re going to aim a little higher.”

  I laughed, shutting off the television. “Alright, alright.”

  I got up and headed to the fridge, grabbing a beer and helping Saylor clean up after another fantastic dinner. We’d been in Maine for six months and everything was going better than I’d imagined. I was able to get a job as a lobsterman on a massive boat run by an old friend of mine from my first tour in the Marine Corps. And Saylor opened a small food shack off the beach. Nothing fancy: a couple tables and benches out in front, serving lobster rolls and dessert food almost year-round, and traditional Swedish seafood dishes when the weather got colder.

  I watched admiringly as she reached up high to put back a mixing bowl and her shirt lifted above the smooth, delicious curve of her waist. Life was simpler, much simpler. And it was a struggle to leave everything behind. But, looking at her, I’d never been happier. I took a swig of beer and approached behind her, wrapping my arms around her delicate body.

  “Let’s finish the dishes later,” I suggested. “I have something else for you to work on.”

  Chapter 30

  One Year Later…

  “Can I take the blindfold off now Dean?”

  After quickly working his way into a partnership at work, Dean saved enough to finance his own boat. He wanted to surprise me with a romantic cruise around the coast before winter started up again.

  I heard the car door opening and felt his hands guide me out onto the sidewalk.

  “Alright, tell me what you think.”

  I pulled the blindfold off and gasped. “No… wait, what is this Dean?” I stared out over a small, rustic retail space surrounded by scaffolding and bearing a newly installed sign reading The Shore.

  “I thought you were doing so well, it was time to take the next step. Everyone loves your cooking so much.” Dean pointed out over the property. “It’ll take a couple months to renovate, but I was able to borrow against the boat and got a bridge loan from some guys from my unit. Everyone wants to see this happen, Saylor. You’ve got talent.”

  I was so happy I could cry. “Dean… I can’t even… Thank you!” I wrapped my arms around him and jumped up and into his strong embrace.

  Dean looked at his watch. “Oh. We gotta go. I want to catch the sunset on the boat.”

  We pulled into the marina at just the right time. Dean helped me onto the deck of his dark blue hulled boat and slowly pulled out of the harbor just as the rich, pastel colors of the sunset began to seep out over the water.

  He disappeared into the hold and I heard a loud pop. Dean exited quickly, holding an overflowing bottle of champagne in his extended hand. He held it over the side and smiled sheepishly. “Probably should have chilled it longer.”

  I laughed. “Oh, but it’s more dramatic that way.”

  Dean pointed out over the coast. The sunset basked the rocky shore in the most gorgeous colors. I walked over to the side of the boat, next to Dean, and put my hand around him, leaning against his shoulder.

  “This is beautiful Dean.”

  He poured two glasses and we toasted. “To dreams coming true.” Dean took a long sip. “And, to chances, no matter how small.”

  “I’ll toast to that,” I acknowledged.

  Though, as the night air began to grow chilly and the breeze passed over us, rocking the boat side to side, I thought about what I’d left behind. The one thing I regretted.

  “Dean,” I started, “you know, my mom gave birth right before we left.”

  Dean nodded, pulling me closer.

  “I don’t know if I can live with that,” I continued. “My baby brother has this one chance before he gets sucked into that world. I feel like I need to do something.”

  I expected Dean to encourage me to forget, to be thankful for what we managed to salvage. Things, after all, could have gone much, much worse.

  But instead, he leaned towards me and whispered in my ear. “Saylor, whatever you want to do—I’m there with you. Always. Period.”

  I nuzzled against his warm body. “Thank you.”

  “Now…” Dean grinned, “There is in fact a bed on this boat…”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Oh, is there now.”

  Before I could protest, Dean swept me off my feet and spun me around like I was light as air. Then he carried me into the overnight compartment inside the boat. I was giggling uncontrollably. “What…are…you…” I couldn’t pronounce the words.

  Dean laughed. “You’re going to have to get used to that kind of stuff.”

  I curled up next to him on the rounded mattress in the small sleeping quarters. “Fine by me.”

  >>> Click to Next Page For An Excerpt From Douche.

  Synopsis

  Yeah, I'm a real a**hole, a grade-A DOUCHE, but I always get what I want. Or I did, until SHE came back into town.

  Zayde Knight is bad news. He's a typical pop star: arrogant, rich, and a complete douche. He's also my stepbrother. So why can't I get him out of my mind?

  Zayde Knight doesn't do commitments. He's got enough trouble as it is. He’s stuck back in his stepfather's home for the summer trying to rehabilitate his image so he can go back to being the world's currently most adored pop star. But skinny, frumpy, preppy Maddy is back in town and it looks like she’s changed a lot since he last saw her. He's got plenty of hot girls to choose from, so why is Maddy the only one on his mind?

  Madison Pierce has her life on track. She's back in L.A. for the summer before starting Stanford to work an internship that will make her father happy. But there's one big problem: Zayde. Zayde Knight is the bad boy pop star of the moment, and his mom also happens to be married to her dad. He's the epitome of everything Maddy hates: a cocky, self-centered womanizer who only cares about himself. He's also really freaking hot. Every girl wants him. Except for Maddy. She knows better than to fall for the bad boy, right?

  Click below to read Douche.

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B010R2AL1S/

  Chapter 1

  Madison

  I can’t fucking believe it.

  I was staring at a picture of Zayden Knight on the front page of the tabloid my best friend Jessica had handed me. Of course, there wasn’t anything unusual about Zayden Knight being in the tabloids. After all, he was a mega-celebrity and had been since a very young age. He’d gone from starring in kid shows to touring the world in a popular boy band and finally setting out on his own as a bona-fide pop star.

&n
bsp; “Hey, isn’t he your brother or something?” Jessica asked, her high voice piercing through the cloud of shock around me.

  Oh yeah. Zayden Knight’s mother, Charlene, had married my Dad five years ago. Unfortunately, that made him my stepbrother. I say unfortunately because he’s the most annoying jerk on the planet.

  “Not at all,” I answered. “He’s just the son of the woman my dad married. I hardly ever saw him anyway, since he was always on tour.”

  “Well, you can sure seen him now!” Jessica exclaimed, giggling as she strained her neck to gawk at the picture in my hands.

  She was right. The photo featured a completely nude Zayden Knight taunting the paparazzi from the patio of a trendy club. He wore socks and nothing else. Although his junk was blurred out, you could see the contour of the thing under the pixelated squares.

  Holy Shit! It’s huge.

  I had always assumed Zayden’s cocky arrogance stemmed from some physical insecurity. Seeing as he sported a perfect six-pack and chiseled features, I guessed it was something down below—the usual “he’s overcompensating.” Nope. Zayden didn’t act like an asshole because he was compensating for something. He was just an asshole.

  “Oh my god!” Jessica shouted, pointing. “It’s like hanging to his knees!”

  “Gross…Jess, stop,” I pleaded. “Believe me, if you knew him like I do—”

  “I thought you said you never really saw him?” Jess interrupted.

  “Well, yeah. I mean he’d come by. Charlene lives there after all.”

  Jessica squealed. “That’s so cool. Zayde Knight! Did you ever see him, like in person?”

  “Uh, yes, Jess, I’ve seen him in person.”

  “And, like, his abs! What does he look like in person?”

  I tossed the tabloid into the wastebasket under my desk. “He looks like a spoiled, entitled brat with an overpriced haircut.”

  And a body that’s just unfair.

  I hadn’t seen Zayden in a while, and though he’d always been easy on the eyes, the tabloid picture was just something else.

  How is it that this jerk gets everything—it all just comes so easy.

  He’d apparently been hitting the gym, and it was nearly impossible to ignore the sharply cut muscles in his shoulders, arms, and abs.

  “Well,” continued Jessica undeterred, “if you see him, make sure to snap a pic just for me.”

  “That won’t happen,” I said flatly.

  “What, why? Summer’s around the corner—I’m sure he’ll come by at some point.”

  I grabbed a stack of folded blouses and lay them carefully in my suitcase. “Thankfully, Zayden’s on some international promotional tour all summer.”

  “Hmmm…” Jessica pouted. “Just stay in touch in case that changes. I can fly down to visit!”

  Wouldn’t that be great?

  I could just imagine her following in a long line of friends who’d been seduced by Zayden’s fame and religiously tanned torso. “Sure thing, Jess. I hope you visit.”

  Jessica rose from the bed, gave me a quick hug and pounced on the wastebasket, retrieving the magazine. “And, I’ll just hang on to this,” she said with a wink. “See you soon!”

  I shook my head as she left.

  Unbelievable.

  Jessica had just missed valedictorian of our class at Canterbury Preparatory—and that was only because she’d taken the science AP classes all at once in her senior year. It didn’t matter how smart or driven a girl was. They always went head-over-heels for Zayden.

  Head-over-heels for the guy that treated women like a red solo cup in a game of beer pong. He’d hook up with several girls in one night, throwing huge parties in his apartment and taking his pick—and that was back when he turned 18, right before Sound Play took off. The overnight success of the boy band took Zayden to new heights of both stardom and bastardom.

  When I came home over the holidays or for summer and he’d stop by to grace us all with his presence, he and his posse would take over the house. They’d all but trash the place and every time I tried to kick his friends out, Charlene would remind me that nothing was off limits to her precious Zayden. “He’s very important,” she’d inform me, “he needs to blow off some steam.”

  Oh, he definitely did that. When he and his posse were done littering the pool with solo cups and cigarettes, they’d jump into one of Zayden’s absurdly expensive cars and zip off at 20 miles over the speed limit to West Hollywood or some glitzy club in Beverly Hills. Then they’d all push right through the line, making a show of it, and waltz in still wearing their sunglasses.

  I know, because I went with them once, two years ago. Zayden had made a show of wanting to take his friends and me all out to celebrate my 17th birthday. He was 20 and even more full of himself after two years of success with Sound Play. He said it’d be someplace classy and low-key. So I got all dressed up. I had on my sensible light beige skirt and light blue shirt that I tucked into the waist and brought along my knit peplum jacket from J. Crew. I remember because he made fun of me the whole time: “Check it out, guys”… “You really know how to stand out, Maddy”… “Modest is Hottest, I guess that’s why you don’t have a boyfriend, haha”… and on and on.

  Finally, he pulled his Escalade with the illegally tinted windows up to the back of the building and we were all let in through a side entrance. It was only once we were inside and Zayden snapped a picture of me against the backdrop of a pole dancing stage that I knew it was all another elaborate joke for his amusement. “Hahaha...look at the expression on her face,” he’d said. “Oh, woops, you know, I think I sent that to Duncan.” He threatened to send the photo to my father unless I stayed.

  It was a gross place with gross people. Guess that’s why Zayden had such a great time. He and his posse stuffed money into each and every G-string while getting hammered. If anyone tried to card him, he’d just lash out: “Do you know who I am?”

  Meanwhile, all these slimy guys were grabbing my ass and whispering in my ear with beer breath that smelled like pee. And what did Zayden do? “She loves this…good luck guys, have at it,” he said, laughing his ass off. I couldn’t stand it. “Fuck you, Zayden,” I said. “You do what you want, I’m leaving.” And all he did was look at me perplexed, like he didn’t get why I was angry and he said “Jeez…Maddy, alright, just kidding, alright?”

  I had to call a car service. There weren’t any cabs and this was before Uber. It sucked. My nude heels stuck to the disgusting floor as I rushed out of the place. When I got home I collapsed on the couch. After that, I knew better than to hang out with Zayden.

  Not like I could have. Later that year, he left Sound Play to go off on his own. And, as usual, he was wildly successful. He’d been a solo artist, touring the world, ever since. And it would be an understatement to say it went to his head. He was an insensitive, ignorant, cocky, inconsiderate jackass.

  As I shoved my camisoles and light sweaters into my suitcase, I gave thanks that Zayden was on his international promotion circuit. It was relief to know that I could go spend the summer between high school and Stanford at home with my dad and without Zayden’s repulsive presence. He was the worst kind of entitled asshole. Zayden was the definition of a douche.

  Chapter 2

  Zayde

  “Zayde…your phone is like… ringing…”

  Her voice annoyed me.

  Why the fuck are you still here?

  “Yeah, sure…” I rolled over and pressed my thumb to the screen to unlock my phone.

  Mom… great…

  I knew what it was about. My indecent exposure had probably gone viral by now.

  Well, good for them.

  The way I saw it, they were getting a free show. That’s what they wanted, right? Chasing me down Sunset Boulevard: “Take your shirt off Zayde!” “Show us what you’re made of, Zayde!” Fuckers… Well, I sure showed them. Everything.

  At least I silenced the morons who were questioning the size of my dick, like they
had nothing better to do. They didn’t. But that bad boy was on full display now. Widely circulated and retweeted in those candid photographs.

  Well, that’s good, at least.

  This chick on the other hand, was bad…Bad in a good way and bad in a...yeah, just bad. Sure, she went to town on my dick like a hungry vacuum cleaner.

  Does that even make sense? Damn, I’m not thinking straight…fucking hangover.

  But, I’m pretty sure she thought there was something between us—something more than a night of pounding it out after the adrenaline rush of stripping down on the patio of that West Hollywood club. That would explain why she was still here when I explicitly asked her to take off last night. Nothing but bad news.

  “Zayde…babe…your phone is ringing.”

  Babe? What the hell was she thinking?

  “Yeah, no shit. Do you not see me with the damn phone in my hand right now.” She was looking straight at me. “You’re telling me my phone is ringing like I don’t know and you’re looking at me? Are you kidding me?”

  She looked mildly puzzled by my outburst and then it faded right back into boredom. “Well, fine then, I’m going to sleep.” Her eyes sunk and she turned back, stomach down on the bed, her face buried in the pillow.

  I smiled a bit at the sight of her perky ass just hanging in the air. She wasn’t wearing any panties. Now I remember why I brought her home with me. Except…

  No freaking way.

  Already, she was wearing my shirt. Nothing else, just my shirt—my damn shirt. Bad news, like I said. She had to go, in spite of that beautiful ass. But first I had to take this call.

  I got up with great difficulty, seeing as I’d had about two bottles of vodka, which might also explain the indecent exposure earlier. Bleary-eyed, I swiped at my phone, taking three attempts to connect with the green phone icon. I finally got it. “One second mom…”