by Lila Felix
“What directions?” I yelled back at him, barely containing the laughter. I reached out to stop the washing machine, which meant pressing against him. He stiffened next to me and I wondered why.
The noise finally subdued, we could talk normally. “I Googled it.”
“You Googled how to wash your clothes?” I wasn’t sure the word clothes came out at all because at that moment the weight of the situation came down like a comedy show. This guy, this perfect bodied, fine-tuned athletic machine, his words, not mine, had to do an internet search on how to wash clothes.
By the time I finished laughing, there were tears rolling down my face.
“It’s not that funny.”
“Yes it is.”
“Your mom is hot.”
I could hear the record-scratching noise in my head.
“Huh?”
He smiled then and a slight dimple showed in his left cheek. I hadn’t noticed it before.
“I made you stop laughing.”
“You did that. Look, it’s just out of balance.”
I reached in, trying hard as hell not to pay any attention to the ten pairs of black boxer briefs in the machine, and made the weight balance out. Turning it back on, he smiled again when it ran fairly quietly for an older machine.
“Thank you.” He bowed his head again.
“You’re getting good at that—the thank you thing.”
“Blake said he was gonna throat punch me unless I started saying it.”
He could’ve left that part out.
“I like this Blake character. Either way. It’s good.”
The tension drew a bridge between us as we both stood there not knowing how to extend or end the conversation.
“Your dad is nice.”
“He is.”
“Um…” His gaze darted around the room, anywhere but on me, where I had to admit, I wanted it more than anything.
“I have cake.” I blurted out. I was always offering him food. He probably thought I was trying to fatten him and keep him in my closet or something.
“I have shorts.” He motioned to his shorts—as if any attention needed to be brought to those shorts. That garment had the world’s attention at all times.
He was making me work for it. This insolent, arrogant, ass of a man was making me work for it. A quick look around his apartment saddened me. It looked so cold and artificial. Not a place for a human or any other being to exist.
If I wanted to know more about this creature, I would have to up my ante.
“Have you eaten dinner?”
He shrugged in response.
“There’s a place up the road. It’s one of those Brazilian meat fest places. Lots of protein for your—for you.”
Heaven above, I’d nearly said for your body. All that man needed was more air in his already inflated ego.
“I need to change.” It came out like a question.
“Well, yeah, all that will distract the waitresses. It will be a meat disaster.”
I did not just say meat disaster. He was improving on his manners and I was going down sewage hill head first.
“Meet me out front in ten minutes. And I’m paying.”
I left before addressing that comment. I paid my own way.
A quick change into Premium Rush, and I was ready to go. The boy had already seen me in my robe and without make-up, there was no reason to put on a show. What he saw was what he go. This wasn’t a date.
“Hey,” he said as I closed and locked my front door.
My own hello got caught in my throat as I got my eye’s fill of what ten minutes could do in the hands of Crown. I’d only seen him in those damned shorts and if someone had asked me a short time ago what he looked best in, I would’ve declared the shorts with no hesitation.
That was until I saw the man dressed up.
A crisp lavender button down shirt clung to his torso, rolled up at the sleeves and unbuttoned just enough to show me a smooth bare chest beneath. Warmth pooled in my belly as my heart pounded.
God was laughing at me at that moment. He really was. He’d sent this man straight out of wherever he’d come from, the most attractive man I’d ever seen in my life, and then pointed and laughed.
This one comes with a price. You break him, you buy him.
“I can’t drive.” He mistook my dawdling for Southern belleness.
“That’s fine. I can drive.”
We climbed into my SUV and took off toward the restaurant. His cologne filled the air of my car, just warm and cedar. I opted out of listening to music, content with the rhythmic simplicity of his breaths.
“So, you know Eric and Chela?”
“No. I’ve just rented from them for three years.”
“Smartass. I think I met them when I was a toddler. I hadn’t seen them since. I don’t’ know them at all.”
“They’re nice. You should be nice back. Who knows? You might like it.”
“Being nice doesn’t work. If you want something, you have to be ruthless.”
I ticked my head his way, expecting a chuckle to go along with his joke. Instead, his stoic face looked out of the window.
No one in their right mind actually thought that being ruthless was the way to get things done. They may say it, but karma was a bitch and meanness brought you more meanness in return.
We arrived at the restaurant and Crown looked around. I supposed he was scoping out the area for someone to recognize him.
“People don’t really watch soccer around here. I think you’re safe. This is LSU football central.”
He grunted and got out slowly. As we walked to the door, he winced a little while stepping onto the curb.
“Table for two?” The host asked.
Crown nodded at the same time I said yes. It was then that I realized the impact of the situation.
There was a man standing next to me.
I didn’t do this. I didn’t trust most men, but especially men I’d only known for a few weeks. Strike that. I didn’t really know Crown at all. I could insinuate some things from his behavior, but in reality I knew very little else.
I questioned myself over and over as we were led to our table. I would make the night a chance to get to know him, if for no other reason than to make myself feel better for acting so brazen.
Chapter Eleven
Crown
Do I bleed?
Being nice worked. I wished she would name me one person who was constantly kind to other people and got anywhere in life. Most of the people who spend their time being nice never leave step one.
I bet she couldn’t.
The waiter took our orders. There was a flat fee for however much meat you could eat along with unlimited side dishes. It felt like I hadn’t eaten meat in years. The smell of meat over an open fire awoke my senses and made my mouth water. This restaurant was different than most. It wasn’t quiet. The only thing that could be heard over the boasting laughter and conversation was the clanking of fork and knives.
Lyra ordered carbs and then turned her nose up when I ordered steamed asparagus and spinach.
Whatever her job was didn’t expect her to keep constant tabs on her body. Not that her body needed changing at all. The opposite was true. She was thin but curvy and even in the throes of anger was beautiful.
“Where are you from?”
I wasn’t stupid enough to think that this dinner would go without Lyra’s menial question, but I thought maybe I’d get to eat a little before it started.
“California. San Jose.”
“Wow. That’s pretty far away.”
“It’s a whole different world, apparently.”
She opened her mouth to begin another round, but I beat her to the punch.
“Where do you work?”
“I’m a model.” She shrugged after answering like it wasn’t a big deal. I knew that. Eric had told me before. I just needed to hear her admit it. The thing was, and I hadn’t realized it until just then, but I had a mild obses
sion with models. I’d always wanted to date one just for the status envy. I’d never seen Lyra in any of my ‘research’. My agent had once told me that dating one would increase my fame. She had set me up on a date with one once, but during the date, I realized she was completely self-absorbed.
There was only room for one self-absorbed person in a relationship.
That person was me.
“Like a runway model?” I tried not to sound too interested.
Lyra cringed as if it was the last thing in the world she wanted to talk about. “Mostly print modeling but sometimes editorial. Like I said, I work when they call, which isn’t very often and they don’t…Let’s just say I would never be recognized in public.”
Her eyes never shifted and her voice never wavered as she spoke. She wasn’t lying.
I just didn’t get it.
There was no point in modeling or any other public eye career if you didn’t get noticed in public. That was the whole point.
“I’m going to the salad bar.”
Agitated, she jumped from the table and took her spot in line at the bar. I didn’t know why it frustrated her to talk about it. I could talk about soccer for the rest of the night.
At least I had something to do now instead of just looking at ESPN on my tablet. I had to find Lyra’s pictures. It wasn’t that I doubted her word—she had the body and the looks, no doubt. It just didn’t sit right with me.
Scraping my nails against my scalp while pulling on my hair, the whole scenario hit me with more force than I’d ever been hit with on the field. I had to play this thing out right, I thought to myself. I could see the headlines unfold—Crown Sterling makes a model showing at his first game back. Crown Sterling finds love in the sticks of Louisiana.
This was my way of getting back in the headlines.
Lyra was my ticket back into the spotlight.
Of course, it wouldn’t be love—nothing even close. A hot and heavy short term fling should do the trick. I wasn’t capable of all that flowers and candy bullshit. I just wasn’t.
Anxiety hourglassed through my chest and hit my stomach at full force as I realized the biggest issue with this plan. I only had about a month and a half to convince her. The thing was, she wasn’t the kind who would willingly do this just for a publicity prowl. No, I had to make it seem legit. She had to believe that this was all real. Everything had to seem on the up and up—including the break-up—which would have to be soon after I’d recovered.
I would claim Lyra was too clingy. Jealousy was a common thing among the players who foolishly made the choice to be in a relationship. I could say she couldn’t handle the women—or the travelling. The end would be sweeter than the headlines.
How could she resist?
I was what everyone wanted. I had the looks, the money, and the status. That’s what women wanted.
Every woman wanted Crown Sterling.
Lyra got back and I could barely concentrate on my food. This whole thing would be a piece of cake and I would come out on the other side a winner again. I would be right back on top where I was supposed to be—where I’d paid all those people money to make me be.
I had to do this right. There was no other choice.
Ruthless—that was the only way to get anything in life.
I fumbled my way through the meal, answering all of her questions without a snide remark or a stuttering eye roll. It was the same as all my other conquests.
This one just included dinner.
After I’d eaten only half of what I could actually put away, the ticket arrived, but we reached for it at the same time.
“No way, Lyra, I said dinner was on me.”
“And I pay my own way.”
The waitress came shortly after while we were still fussing about who was going to pay. I remembered having a waiter before.
“Hi. We had a little switch around. I’ll be taking your check.” The girl’s hip nudged my arm on the table—totally on purpose.
“Can you split it, please? Half and half?” Lyra just didn’t give up.
“No. I can’t. Sorry. But I’d consider myself lucky for this man to be buying my dinner.”
Yeah, she recognized me. I’d seen that look before. This place is full of football fans, my ass.
Lyra’s face reddened and whatever fight she had left in her was gone in an instant.
“Thank you, Crown.”
That was more like it.
She’d be saying thank you a lot that night.
She drove us home and we got out quickly. Thankfully the ride home hadn’t been filled with more questions.
We got out and before we could go our separate ways, I needed to make my move.
“Why don’t you come over? We can talk or not talk.”
It came out a lot sleazier than I thought it would. It didn’t matter. I could breathe in the direction of most women and they came undone.
Lyra glanced in the direction of my house. She was thinking way too much about this. The choice was easy.
“Goodnight, Crown.”
Her shoulders slumped a little as she walked away.
“Ahem,” I cleared my throat. “The bedroom is that way.”
She turned around and wasn’t as upset as I thought she should be. She was passing on the night of her life. Her eyelids half-closed, she stepped toward me and shrugged one shoulder. I took it as a cue that she’d changed her mind. When she took her last step, her chest was pressed against mine. Pushing some of her hair over her shoulder, I prepared to move in. Lyra had a pair of lips that curved on the top like the top of a heart.
She leaned up close and I gasped, loving that she was going to make the first move. It would be easier than I thought. Grabbing my collar, she pulled me down to her level until our lips were at the same level.
“You’re an asshole. I thought there was more. I thought there was something there. But you’re just a bastard like the rest of them.”
She unhanded me with a jerky motion and strode back to her door.
A tingle of emotion caught me off guard as I watched her go back into her apartment—alone. I’d always been praised by my father for my confidence. It had gotten me so far in life.
She thought there was more to me? Where in the hell would she get such a moronic notion? There was nothing of me but my love of myself and the game. She was a fool for thinking that and deserved whatever hurt she was feeling.
She was in pain because of me.
The tingle returned but soon twisted into more of a burn.
Shit.
That feeling that now radiated through my chest as I pictured her crying or being upset was the worst feeling of all. It was something I’d never wanted to experience and up until then, hadn’t.
I unbuttoned one more button trying to give the emotion a pathway to get out of me.
This couldn’t be happening.
Remorse is a real bitch.
Chapter Twelve
Lyra
The king made me do it.
Shuffling a pill out of the bottle was embarrassing to say the least. It was my own fault, of course. I loved those pills way too much. They made me more than sleepy. The tiny white drops of happy felt like justice—like something I deserved.
Like I’d earned the right to take them.
I deserved to have an eight hour period where I wasn’t worried about the sounds in my house. I needed a reprieve from constantly wondering if he was somewhere near, looking through his peep holes or recording me from a device too small for me to find. Technology had come a long way since that man had plagued me.
I held the tiny pill out in front of me and looked on it with warmth. Inside that pill was a vacation.
Usually that meant something had triggered my paranoia.
Tonight it just meant I’d been on the receiving end of a big dose of douchebag.
I wanted to forget it—forget it all.
It wasn’t that I was so frigid that sleeping with someone wasn’t an option. F
or me, it certainly wasn’t an option on the first date, let alone after one meal with someone I didn’t even know.
I betted girls just threw themselves at him all the time.
He’d become accustomed to it, so much so that he didn’t know how to have a relationship with a woman without it.
How sad.
“Hello, pint-sized lovely.” The greeting came out sweet before I swallowed it. I sat on the edge of the bathtub and waited for it to begin to take effect. Stripping myself of the cream dress with the navy bicycles and hanging it on a hook, I cast off Crown as well.
If there were degrees of wrongness, then I was on the bottom rung. There wasn’t anything else to Crown Sterling but his name, his game, and his ego. He was as hollow as a person could get.
He’d spoken incessantly of things that had no value in my life—and never would. They said opposites attract, but in this case, my opposite had made me want to hold onto my life even tighter. Not that I was a better person than him, I wasn’t. His priorities were just so different than mine.
Quickly, my mind reverted to its tried and true thought process as I sat there alone again.
Men, except my father, were scum.
And Crown Sterling was no exception, no matter how much I wished he was.
~~
Xanax usually knocked me out for a good while, so I was surprised, the next morning, when I woke early and could breathe again.
For the fourth, fifth, or maybe tenth time in my life, I’d decided to put the man next door in a category that defined the way our interactions would be. He was simply a guy who would be leaving soon.
Good riddance.
I called Tippi and arranged for her to come over for dinner before getting dressed for a regular day. I’d long neglected the library and I needed to go grocery shopping.
I need a big dose of normal.
The library of Rougon was another safe haven of mine. Tippi’s mom was the head librarian and unlike Tippi preferred a life void of technology much like me. She’d fought tooth and nail to keep it that way.
Going in, I dropped my checked out books and went in search of Mary Catherine. She wasn’t in her office and after asking one of the other librarians, I found her immediately—in the vampire section. I should’ve known.