Fairytale Kisses (Here & Now Book 2)

by Kim Bailey

  There was a reason I was escaping, and this is a vivid reminder of why. I can’t handle these people’s perceptions and expectations of me. I barely know most of them, yet they’ve helped to give me a complex bigger than my ego. That’s saying a lot considering how big my ego can be at times.

  As I try to turn away from her, Chante grabs the front of my shirt, bunching it in her fist. I can’t help but notice how delicate her hands are, but unlike Celeste’s bright red claws, Chante’s nails are short and color free.

  “Don’t go, darling. I said he warned me. I didn’t say I listened. I’m not very good at listening or doing what I’m told.”

  Her words slide down my neck, hitting the spot on my chest where she’s still holding tight to my shirt, then continue traveling south like a heated caress.

  “No? Not the kind to take orders, huh?”

  She shakes her head in a subtle no, the smile never leaving her lips, the soft fall of her hair brushing the knuckles of her hand that still hasn’t loosened its hold on me.

  “Bet if I gave you orders nice enough I could talk you into a few things. Bet you might even enjoy that.”

  “My, my. You are a bad boy, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Didn’t you hear the warnings?” I tease. “Come on, then, Enchanté. I’ve had a bad day. Give me something good. Say my name. Say it nice.”

  “Dylan,” she whispers, half taunt, half plea.

  “That’s better. That sounds exactly how I imagined. Those lips do my name some serious justice. Thank you for indulging me.”

  “That’s all you want from my lips?”

  Her question stuns me. Is that all I want?

  “What else you got?” I challenge.

  Backing me into the bathroom, Chantal holds my stare, not backing down, meeting my challenge head on. When the door clicks softly closed behind her, she leans into me, her lips just a breath from my own.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this, you know,” she warns. Like acknowledging this somehow makes it all right.

  “Isn’t that why you’re doing it? Isn’t that what makes it fun?”

  Go back to where it all began. Meet Jamie and Eric in Complex Kisses (Here & Now #1). You can read the first chapter here.

  ***

  Jamie

  Depression is more than just feeling ‘blue’.

  Signs of depression may include:

  - Feelings of sadness, guilt, helplessness or hopelessness

  - Changes to sleeping and/or eating habits

  - Problems with physical health, including physical pain

  - Anger or irritability

  Check, check, check and double fucking check.

  How is it possible for a medical pamphlet to be so intuitive? My entire state of being summed up, in four bullet points. Does this mean I’m depressed?

  I must be.

  Or …

  I’m turning into a hypochondriac.

  What I need to do is to pull my head out of my ass and stop wallowing in ridiculous self-pity. Two days sitting around this hospital and two sleepless nights in a hotel are messing with my mind. I’ve been pushed to irrational self-diagnosis to distract myself from my real problem.

  My father is dying.

  He’s dying an unbearably slow, painful, and ugly death, and I haven’t felt a thing about it, other than resentment and guilt. My resentment is toward the dying man for dragging my ass away from my life. It’s a life that I’ve sacrificed, struggled and even stolen for. A life that I desperately want to stay in. My guilt is for not feeling anything, other than the resentment. He’s my father, after all. Shouldn’t I be sad?

  The whole situation makes my heart hurt. Not metaphorically, either. No, there is a physical aching deep inside my chest. This strange, uncomfortable pain was what started my neurosis. I worried I was suffering from angina or having a series of mini heart attacks that would eventually kill me.

  Judy, one of my father’s nurses, assured me it was just stress. Apparently, stress can physically manifest itself in some very scary ways.

  Nurse Judy is probably right, but I have an alternate theory. I’m convinced the heartache is a symptom of leaving Hunter behind.

  Hunter, with his messy blond hair and fun-loving nature, is my daily reminder that life is good. My life is really, really good. Without him here, setting my direction, giving me purpose, I feel completely off kilter. He’s the tether that grounds me in life. As my one and only constant, he’s the single person in the world I’d do absolutely anything for. But he’s back home and I’m stuck here, having a mental breakdown in a hospital cafeteria.

  Ten years have passed since I last saw my father. Right now, I’m second guessing my decision to come back here, my decision to stay—at least until it’s all over for him.

  My seventeen-year-old self would’ve left him to die alone. Now though? Abandoning this incredibly sick old man, exiling him in his last days, just doesn’t seem right—regardless of what a mean son of a bitch he’s been. Despite my resentment, I feel like being here is something I must do. Something I’m meant to do.

  Clinical depression’s unlikely but my thoughts are dark and cynical. It feels like bitterness is starting to root itself inside of me, taking hold of my mind. Maybe those bitter roots are the cause of the intolerable headache I’m developing. My brain feels like it’s fracturing, like my skull could quite literally explode at any minute. Maybe all the negativity is sprouting into a tumor.

  Great. Add that to my neurotic list of imaginary afflictions. Brain tumor.

  “Here, I think you need this more than I do,” a bright and cheerful voice exclaims, as an open container of chocolate pudding’s set on the table in front of me.

  Startled, I look up to see a boy whose teasing tone is matched by his playful expression. His open and genuine smile reminds me so much of Hunter, it’s painful. He’s young, no more than fourteen or fifteen, and despite looking very obviously ill, he’s beautiful. His mostly bald head and waxy complexion can’t take away from his green eyes, sparkling with mischief, as he looks at me expectantly.

  I’m transfixed. My ability to comprehend what’s happening—nil. Unsure how to respond, my only logical option is to look back in complete bewilderment.

  Quirking a smile, he lowers himself to the seat in front of me. “I already had a bite, hope you don’t mind,” he says smoothly. “It’s a very good chocolate pudding—loads of sugar. I was really enjoying it, but when I saw you and that look on your face, I thought you might need something to perk you up.”

  “I look that bad, do I?”

  There’s no doubt in my mind, I look ten times worse than I feel. I haven’t showered in a day, my hair’s a giant mess of tangled waves, and I haven’t bothered with make-up. Top it off with my yoga pants and a sweatshirt that I think still has yesterday’s dinner on the sleeve? I’m sure I look like absolute hell. However, compared to this kid, I’m the epitome of good health. My hysteric list of signs and symptoms seems so ridiculously selfish in contrast—it’s getting thrown away immediately.

  “Hell no. You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says, matter of fact. “But no one as pretty as you should ever frown. I wanted to see if I could make you smile. I bet a smile would make you even hotter.”

  I’m unable to hold back the loud and obnoxious burst of laughter that bubbles out of my chest. He’s incredibly forward. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man this upfront. And he’s just a kid. Is it creepy that I’m feeling complimented by his attention? He’s definitely a boost to my ego. I find it heartwarming that this boy is either trying really hard to hit on me, or even more miraculous, is trying to make me feel better.

  Since miracles of any sort are rare in life, I give him the biggest, brightest smile I can manage.

  “There it is. Yeah, that’s stunning.” His face shines with sincerity.

  “Am I on camera? Is this one of those shows where they punk people? Please don’t tell me Ashton Kutcher’s going to c
ome running in here. I’m really not a fan.” My tone is teasing, but I’m halfway serious. None of this seems like it could possibly be real.

  “What? No, of course not! Now you’re just offending me.” His pained expression immediately makes me feel like a jerk for ruining his moment. Obviously, he’s just trying to be nice to me and I’m too comfortable in my normal sarcasm.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. I was just joking around. I didn’t mean it.”

  His own laughter is exuberantly buoyant, contrasting his sickly appearance.

  Damn! I’ve been had. This really is like candid camera.

  Falling for his ploy makes me feel like an ass. But, what makes me feel like an even bigger ass is how I’ve been entertaining my own unhappiness. I’m being reminded that life has a sunny side.

  “I’m totally not offended at all. I’m just kidding around with you. You’re too much fun to be straight with,” he snickers. “And, did I mention that I think you’re really pretty when you smile? Keep doing that.”

  His over-the-top statement has me laughing again. This boy makes it nearly impossible not to. With his good nature, it’s easy to laugh and smile. Easy to set aside my troubles.

  “Wow, kid You’re really …” I trail off, at a complete loss for words. I have a litany of applicable descriptive for this boy, but I’m having trouble concentrating on anything other than the guy who’s about to interrupt our conversation.

  Who is this magnificent man?

  “Hey, Caleb. There you are. Are you hitting on unsuspecting women again?”

  Never have I been so instantly attracted to a man. At least, not one in real life. The only other guy I’ve found this compelling, lives on a wall of ice, has a wolf for a pet, and (I’ve accepted) will never reach through my television screen to extend my Sunday night love affair.

  The man standing in front of me is definitely a top contender to star in my next sexual fantasy. His dark hair is a little long and completely messy, just the way I like. He’s tall and fit looking, without being overtly muscular. And that face. My God, that face. He has the most amazing bone structure, all refined angles and flawless symmetry. His strong jaw hasn’t seen a razor in a few days, making him look even more masculine. The little cleft in his chin is like a beacon, artfully arranged to draw my attention to his wide and perfect lips. The amused expression he’s wearing is highlighted by incredibly expressive green eyes. Even his slightly wild and untamed eyebrows don’t distract from his features. In fact, I think they somehow increase the allure.

  I may have lapsed into a hormone induced coma, since I can’t quite seem to make coherent thought. It’s possible that I’m drooling, and it’s very likely that I look like a complete moron right now. And, now he’s talking to me …

  Holy, shit! He’s talking to me!

  “What?” I stammer.

  “I mean ... Caleb can be a bit of a hound. If he’s bothering you ...”

  With his emerald eyes dancing over my face he gives me a slow, sly smile. It’s a smile that makes me feel like he can see right through me. Like he knows exactly where my mind was wandering. Like he’d be happy to lead my mind, and the rest of me, a whole lot further.

  “I was being a gentleman and offering the lady a bite of my chocolate. She’s having a rough day. And I wanted to see her smile,” Caleb responds earnestly to the man. Turning back to me he says, “You really do have a fantastic smile.”

  Nope, subtlety is not his thing. But I smile again because I just can’t help myself. He comes across as genuine, even though he’s obviously a flirt, just like his gorgeous companion suggested.

  “I thought you were giving me all of your chocolate,” I tease, “Well, all except that one bite you stole.”

  With a deep, gruff laugh of his own, gorgeous man’s face is transformed by the most dazzling smile imaginable, bringing out his dimples and making my insides tingle.

  I’m in serious trouble here. He has a sexy freaking face with dimples, and his laugh alone has my body buzzing.

  “Ah, damn … Eric, you’ve done it again!” The boy, Caleb, exclaims as we both look over to him. “You’re stealing the show again, dude. How can I compete with you? You’ve got a full head of hair.”

  My face is turning bright red, I’m sure of it, but gorgeous, green-eyed Eric just smiles down at the younger kid with a knowing look. “Caleb, my man, no one can compete with you. You’re the biggest flirt in the world. All the ladies love you.” Turning his gaze on me he asks, “Am I right?”

  He winks at me and the world stops spinning.

  My body chemistry is going in one direction while my emotions are being pulled in another. I’m lusting over a good-looking man, while making light hearted banter with a sick child, and my dad lay dying in another room.

  Maybe I really am heading for a mental breakdown.

  “Um … yep. Definitely a charmer,” I sputter.

  “So, tell me, beautiful. What’s got you so bummed. Tell me who stole your puppy so I can go kick their butt,” Caleb urges.

  Pinning me with bothered glares, they both look ready to take on a fight. If I really was in trouble I don’t think I’d even have to ask. I think they’d not only have my back, but would step in front to be my shield.

  This is possibly the sweetest, most surreal moment of my life. These guys seem to wear their hearts on their sleeves, like a badge of honor, while I’m busy hiding mine behind made up medical conditions.

  Feeling sad? It must be depression. It doesn’t matter that my father’s dying and I’m all alone to deal with it. That’s just an unfortunate inconvenience.

  Feeling stressed out? It must be a heart condition. Never mind that I’ve left the only important person in my life back home. That’s just a temporary disruption.

  So many lies. But lying to myself seems like the easiest way to make it through the day.

  “I’m just missing someone.” That’s not a lie. That’s stark honesty, and hearing it come out of my own mouth surprises the hell out of me.

  “Someone male or someone female?” Caleb asks cheekily.

  “Someone almost as charming as you, actually. And I’m worried that he’s probably sitting at home missing me too. Or worse, maybe he’s not missing me at all. Maybe he’s busy having the time of his life while I’m away.”

  Clearing his throat, Eric’s voice is hard, “Well, if he’s not missing you, he’s obviously a fool.” He actually looks pissed off.

  What the heck does he have to be angry about? I’m the one that should be offended.

  Anger and defensiveness are my go-to reactions anytime someone has the audacity to say anything, even remotely, bad about Hunter. This time’s no exception. I mean, how rude? This guy is a complete stranger, where does he get off?

  Except …

  They don’t know who Hunter is. I forgot to mention, he’s not just some random guy. He’s my son.

  “No …” I try to explain.

  “Eric, man. Not cool. The lady needs some cheering up. I think we can be nice to her, don’t you?” Caleb says, cutting me off.

  “No, but …”

  “Sorry. Caleb’s right. That was disrespectful. And It’s not really any of my business,” Eric interrupts me.

  His examination’s so intense, it feels like he wants to make it his business. His look leaves me even more flustered and confused—unsure how to respond.

  “Hey, I didn’t even ask you your name!” Caleb exclaims, breaking my attention from Eric’s heated stare and snapping me back to reality.

  “Jamie,” I answer. “Well, Jameson actually. Nobody bothered telling my parents it’s a boy’s name. Everyone just calls me Jamie, though. Verdict’s still out on whether or not I like it,” I ramble, still uncertain how this conversation got so far out of control.

  “Well, Jamie. I think it’s a lovely name. Suits you perfectly.” Still the charmer. “I’m Caleb. That big idiot is my brother, Eric. I make no apologies for him, though, he’s acting a bit douchey right now. Normally
, he’s a great guy.” Caleb smirks at Eric, as though winning some silent competition.

  “Okay, hot-shot.” Eric clamps a hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “We need to get going. Mom and dad will be worried if you’re gone too long.” The joking tone doesn’t hide the touch of regret and sadness seeping into his expression.

  “Yeah,” Caleb sighs but looks at me with poorly hidden mischief. “It was really nice to meet you, beautiful Jamie. You can keep my chocolate pudding. And if you stop missing that other guy you can come visit me. I’m being admitted to room 1202A.”

  Eric just laughs at his little brother, shaking his head. “Caleb, dude …”

  “Too much?” Caleb jokes.

  “No,” I reply, lapsing out of my shock. “It’s perfect. Just what I needed, actually.” Smirking back at him, I pick up the chocolate pudding, with the one bite missing, and dig in with flare. I shovel a spoonful of it in my mouth and declare, “Chocolate is my fav!”

  Both guys smile while watching me gorge on gelatinous sugar. Caleb’s smile is big, bright, and proud. Eric’s smile is just as big, but it’s laced with a deeper recognition.

  It feels like an incredible, unexpected connection was made here. Too bad I’ll probably never see either one of them again. I sure as hell won’t be wandering into strange hospital rooms for any kind of social call.

  “It was nice meeting you boys,” I say around a mouthful of pudding.

  Maybe Caleb will remember me the way I’ll remember him—a light point in an otherwise dreadful day. Smiling, I wave my chocolate covered spoon at them.

  Chuckling as they leave, Eric turns his head at the last minute, calling back over his shoulder, “See you around, beautiful Jamie.”

  Wow.

  I’m stuck in a hospital, hours away from my son and my home, the father I’ve neglected for ten years is still going to die, and I’m still tempted to catalog every one of my physical ailments …

  But there’s a smile on my face.

  And I think it may be permanently etched there.

  For those of you who fell in love with Caleb when he was a mischievous, flirtatious young boy in a hospital cafeteria, thank you. I’m so happy you encouraged me to find his story—and that you waited so long for it to be told. I hope I did him justice, and that you love the man he grew into.