“You needed to talk to me about something?” He strode across the room to me, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
I tilted my head to the side. “Yeah…about how you’ve been ignoring me.”
He smirked, shaking his head. “I haven’t been able to ignore you since the moment I met you. What is this about?”
“It’s about you ignoring me.”
It was more complicated than that, but how was I supposed to explain that I was a little jealous of him dating other women when we met on the set of a reality television show.
“When did I ignore you?” He closed the gap between us so that we were only inches apart.
I stared up at him. Even in the dim room, the way he looked at me rivaled any man I’d ever been with. I sighed, feeling myself being won over with just a look.
“Well you didn’t ignore me,” I backtracked. “But we had this amazing night together and then you come to the house today and you treat me like everybody else.”
“You’re not like everybody else. But when the cameras are rolling, I have to act like this is an actual competition. Even though I’ve already got my prize.”
I paused, narrowing my eyes at him. I shook my head. “They wrote that in a script, didn’t they?”
He tried to stifle his chuckle. He managed to do a pretty good job not making a lot of noise, but his shoulders shook uncontrollably. “They wanted me to say that during the live finale when I give the final charm. I told them no. I wasn’t going to get through that line without laughing.”
“Well don’t use lame, discarded lines on me. Especially when last night you said one thing and then today—”
His face was serious as he interrupted me. “I meant everything I said last night. But as a soon-to-be lawyer, you know that I have to fulfill this contract. And I have to date around since this contract is for a dating show. That doesn’t change how I feel about you though.”
His eyes burned into mine and I knew he wanted to know if it changed anything with me, but he didn’t ask.
Does it change anything for me? I asked myself, getting lost in his eyes.
“You’re going to have to back up a few feet so I can actually think. And what kind of body wash or cologne do you use? Why do you smell so good all of the time?”
He laughed, backing up. He was about six feet away. “Is this enough space?”
“It is.” I inhaled deeply and exhaled loudly. My body slacked against the door as I looked at him. “As I mentioned the other day, I’m not a risk taker. But at the same time, we have this connection that just…it doesn’t make any sense. I’ve never met someone and knew instantly that I wanted to date them. I’m not saying we’re getting married or anything, but I know I want to date you and I don’t want to share you. There’s just so much here, you know?”
He nodded in agreement and as I avoided eye contact, my truth just rolled out of my mouth.
“But you’re also going to be dating other women, kissing other women, being affectionate with other women. And I have to compete against other women so I can try to win dates with you. And then to add insult to injury, I know firsthand that some of these women are complete…” I took a deep breath, pausing to refrain from saying anything I would regret. “If you’re interested in me, there’s no way in hell you’re also interested in some of these women. You just can’t be. And to top it off, I listen to women analyze and overanalyze your every look and touch and word and it gets in my head a little. If I’m hearing how you almost kissed someone, it makes me feel like…ugh!”
I let my head fall back against the door. “This show is bullshit and the only thing real about it is us. But we haven’t been able to be us or be real with each other on camera because it’s day four, date two and there are a whole lot of women left that you have to date. Which is fine, I guess, in theory. But it’s hard because you’re dating multiple women and at the end of the day, I’m just dating you. And I’m either supposed to be cool with that or leave. And…and then in the house, I’m supposed to either fight with the other women or act like we’re friends and that it’s not awkward that we all are into the same man. Those are the options and the producers are just looking for the best story. They don’t give a damn about anybody’s feelings. And I don’t know about anyone else, but I have thought about you nonstop. But we don’t get to date normally and get to know each other. If I don’t win a date, I’m stuck in the house wondering if whoever you’re out with is trying to give you a hand job in the back of the town car!” I threw my hands up in the air, meeting his gaze for the first time since I started my monologue. “I like you, okay? I like you a lot.”
Silence filled the room, sucking out every other word except for the admission of my feelings. I felt him soaking it in. With each quiet moment, I felt my adrenaline from my vent session draining from me, but my heart still raced because of him. The intensity of his gaze pinned me to the door as I just stared at him wide-eyed, not knowing what else to say.
“I don’t want to touch anyone else or kiss anyone else. Do you want me to tell you how much I like you again? Because I will.” He licked his lips. “Because I do.”
“Julian,” I whispered, trying to break the hold he had on me so I could focus.
I watched his gaze travel down the length of my body. The air instantly became thick and I could feel how badly he wanted me. My body responded instantly. Although he couldn’t see how wet he made me, my hardening nipples against my thin cotton t-shirt probably gave me away.
He stalked across the room and grabbed my face, crashing his lips against mine. With his hands around the back of my neck and his thumbs caressing the spot behind my ears, he kissed me hard and with enough passion to take my breath away.
Wrapping my arms around him, I moaned into his mouth. My body responded to his, curving toward him, into him. He pulled away briefly, resting his forehead against mine. Although we weren’t kissing anymore, our bodies were still completely connected, moving in waves against each other. I could feel how hard he was and it took everything in me to not snake my hand down his torso just to see if he was as long and thick as he felt. My head was spinning and my eyes fluttered open.
“You can’t do that.” His breathing was ragged. “You can’t moan like that again, Zoe. It makes me want to do things to you that I’m not going to be able to do in this studio.”
Oh yes please.
Before I had a chance to respond, his mouth covered mine. His right hand left my neck and traveled down my shoulder. Once his fingertips hit the bare skin of my arm, fire burned through my entire body.
Impulsively, we moaned together, loudly, when our tongues touched. Shivers traveled up and down my spine. I found myself clutching his t-shirt in an effort to help me climb him. I wanted to keep our bodies connected and feeling him hardening beneath his jeans only intensified my urges. My heart thudded in my chest and because we were so close, I could feel his doing the same.
A deep growl from the base of his throat soaked my already wet panties.
He was rock hard and although he pulled out of the kiss and only our foreheads touched, I could still feel the heat of his hardness against my belly.
“We should stop,” he said. His hands were running up and down my arms and his eyes were shut tightly.
I moved my hands from his back to his front, grasping his t-shirt and feeling his hard abdomen. Resisting the urge to go south, I moved my hands north toward his well-defined chest until they were around his neck.
“We really should,” I replied, gripping his short hair and pulling his lips to mine. My heart was drumming in my chest and something deep in my gut tightened.
His sweet lips moved against mine sensually, allowing me to relish in the taste of him. I nipped and sucked at his bottom lip causing him to relocate his hands from their grip on my hips toward the back pockets of my jeans.
Using the door as leverage, he lifted me by the bottom of my ass and never broke our kiss. I wrapped my legs around his
waist and kissed him harder, deeper. I wanted him. I wanted him so badly that I didn’t even think about the fact that we were in the midst of filming a show. It wasn’t until I felt a vibration under my left thigh that I was even brought back to reality.
We separated our lips slowly, still in a daze. I untangled my body from his and he set me on the ground gently. His face was flushed, his lips were slightly bruised and his hair was a mess. It was the sexiest I’d ever seen him.
I can only imagine what I look like right now.
I started straightening my clothes and my hair as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“Shit,” he cursed as soon as he saw the text message. He texted back and then put the phone in his pocket. “They need me back out there. The hour for the session will be up soon.”
Panic set in. “Shit! How long have we been gone?”
“No more than fifteen minutes.” He stared at me, reaching out and lightly touching my face with his fingertips. “You’re beautiful. I mean, you’re beautiful with the makeup and everything done for the cocktail parties, too. But right now, no makeup, wild hair, and your lips...” His eyes zoomed in on my mouth. His thumb ran across my bottom lip. “Your lips swollen from kissing me.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Thank you.” I put my hand over his and puckered my lips, kissing his thumb. “There aren’t enough opportunities for moments like this.”
“I know, I know. I will do whatever I can do to figure out how to make more time for us. I want to make you comfortable. I didn’t really think about it like that, but you’re right. I will be going on dates with other women and stuff, but think of it like I’m an actor, acting. So this is work.”
Work, my ass. Actors aren’t getting real hand jobs unless they are in porn. He should probably amend his statement to specify that he meant television actor.
I must have made an unintentional face because he planted another kiss on my lips. “I can’t say anything more than this,” he started, a brush of hesitancy on his face. “During my treatment meeting, I was told I was spending more time looking, talking and flirting with you than anyone else. So between the cocktail party and the bar date, they can see something between us so they’ll be more mindful of it. I’ve been told I need to spread the love and that it’s a show so I have to put on a show.” He searched my face. “Are you going to be okay with that?”
Probably not.
His phone vibrated again. He checked it and he started moving and speaking quickly. “They’re sending someone to come and get me so I’m going to leave out first. You leave a couple of minutes after me.” He kissed me earnestly, urgently, and then dashed out of the room, leaving me winded.
I waited for two minutes and then flew out of the room like a bat out of hell.
Entering the studio, Mya was just coming out of the booth. “Hey! You missed it didn’t you?” She went to sit on the couch and saw the note right after the words left her mouth. “Oh you went to the bathroom. Well, Jo is tweaking something and then be prepared to have your mind blown.”
Jo finished ten minutes later and played the song titled “I’m The One For You.” Had I not been in the booth, I would’ve assumed Jo contacted a couple of famous friends to help make the song better. Even though we didn’t sound like Whitney Houston, we didn’t sound bad. Mya and I were damn near unrecognizable on the track. Five minutes after our second listen, one of the crew members came by to pick up our love song. We had barely shut the door when Bryce Wilson knocked telling us they were ready.
A producer put microphones back on us before we left the studio area. When we entered the lobby we were in before, it had been transformed.
*****
Chapter 10
Three tables with Black Heart Studios tablecloths were arranged along the wall with the big black heart logo spray painted on it. Four people sat behind the tables. One was Julian, smiling at each of us as we walked through the door. The other three looked familiar, but I couldn’t place their faces immediately. It wasn’t until we were seated in the back, facing the judges, that I realized I’d seen them before.
“Is that the group Super Casanova?” I asked Mya.
“It could be. I’m not sure. I don’t really listen to them. Is that the group with the guy with the high-top fade?”
“You know what? I don’t know.” I stared at the group members hard and the only man in the group didn’t have that hairstyle. “It’s my best friend’s favorite group and we went to a show last summer. They’re pretty good. I’m almost positive that’s them.”
“I’m not a fan of that type of music. I’m more into classic rock,” Emma aka Chatty Cathy interjected from the other side of Mya.
I looked at her blankly. I wasn’t talking to you lady!
Giving her a strained smile, I sat back in my chair. Production seemed to be having a meeting in between where the camera facing the judges was set up and where the camera facing us was set up. Lights were being adjusted and the squeak of music being cued up rang in the air.
“Action!” Someone yelled from behind the camera positioned near the judges.
Julian stood. “After all of that hard work, writing and recording, I hope you all have a better understanding of what it is that I do for a living. The woman I’m looking for doesn’t have to be a great singer or songwriter. I’m just looking for someone who can appreciate the time and energy it takes because my job is my life. And I need to know that I have someone who gets it.” He spread his arms out, gesturing to the people sitting with him. “So without further ado, let me introduce you to a few friends of mine. I’ve worked with you for…what is it, Londyn? The last six years? Seven years?”
The woman closest to him, presumably Londyn, laughed. “God, Julian, you make us sound old.” She looked at the other two who had joined in with the laughter before looking out at us and the camera. “But yes, seven long years with this man as our go-to writing partner and friend.”
Julian smiled and nodded. “So ladies, let me introduce you to my friends, Londyn, Marshall, and Hayden. Better known as Super Casanova!”
“I thought so!” I exclaimed to myself. The other ladies clapped and called out cheers, but when the producer in the back corner started waving her arms in the air, we increased our volume.
I bet that’s whose album listening party they are going to tonight.
I tried to look beyond the camera as it swept over us, but it was hard to ignore. There were times when the camera was further away that it was a little easier to forget that I was being filmed. That was not one of those times as the cameraman was standing so close to us that it was hard to even get a great view of the judge’s table. Fortunately where I sat, I could see Julian perfectly.
Still standing, Julian rubbed his hands together. “Okay, are you ready?”
We cheered.
“I said, are you ready?”
We screamed.
“Okay good! That’s more like it,” he laughed. “I’m actually not voting, but I am taking notes and listening carefully. Super Casanova will be voting on which song and lyrics are the best and they will choose the winners. And those winners will be accompanying me to the listening party of the surprise new album by Super Casanova!”
Again, we applauded. The producers in the corner threw their hands up, jumping up and down to encourage us to get louder. We did as we were instructed and as I was certain that it would appear as though we were all Super Casanova fans.
The first song started and because we all had the same beat, I sat in anxious apprehension until the first note of the song was sung. Looking at Mya, I was relieved it wasn’t ours. But I soon realized that though the lyrics simple, the singing was amazing.
Although I knew my singing abilities were limited and that America would be hearing my garbled vocals over an intercom, that wasn’t what made me a little anxious. My vocals, even if they weren’t chopped and screwed into something tolerable, didn’t expose me or make me vulnerable. The lyrics to my verse did.
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For the start of the next three songs, Mya and I clutched hands and tightened our faces. Once we heard the first word, we overdramatically breathed a sigh of relief each time it wasn’t our song. On the fifth go-around, we did our same routine, but when we heard my voice, we squeezed each other’s hands.
The words weaved languidly around planting the seeds of love and being scared of the conditions not being right for the flower to grow. I even managed to squeeze in a fertilizer line to shout out the show. It rhymed. It sounded good as a poem at least. But if Julian was only able to pull out a line or two, he would know it was me expressing how I feel about him.
And that the show is bullshit.
I swept my eyes around and saw the red head and Ana make confused faces at one another.
Not surprised.
As soon as my part was over, I looked up at Julian and he was looking directly at me.
My skin heated at the attention and I licked my lips.
He bit his bottom lip before shifting his gaze to other women and giving them his gorgeous smile.
As soon as Julian relinquished his visual hold on me, I could clearly hear and understand Mya’s part. I knew her lyrics were very literal. She didn’t claim to pick up on my metaphor; however, she started her lyrics out with her picking the flowers out of the garden and bringing them to him.
So maybe she did know.
Once the final song was played, the judges took fifteen minutes to deliberate and the contestants were given the ability to go on a bathroom break. I didn’t have to go so I stayed back with a few other women and just took in my surroundings.
This is a really cool experience, I thought to myself as the hustle and bustle of a recording studio surrounded me.
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