From Now Until Infinity

by Layne Harper

  “Remember what, baby?” I ask as I stand on my tip toes to yell in his ear so he can hear me.

  He pulls me to him and attacks my mouth. It’s a toe curling kiss. Nothing PG about it. It’s so indecent that I’m a little sad that we’re in the middle of a huge crowd because it’s the kind of kiss that makes girls do dumb things.

  When he pulls back, we’re both breathless and incredibly turned on. Colin speaks first. “Remember that kiss. I fuckin’ love you. If you ever doubt my love for you remember this moment and the words to this song.”

  I grab him and pull him to me and kiss him back with the same ferocity. When I’m the first to pull away I repeat his words back to him. “Remember that kiss. I fucking love you, Colin. If you ever doubt how I feel about you, remember this moment and the words to that song.”

  He flashes me the Colin McKinney half smile and says, “Touché, Doctor Collins, touché.”

  By the time the concert is over, we’re sticky, sweaty messes, and it’s perfect. Security drops us off at my town home, and Colin and I quickly head to the shower to rinse the rodeo off of us. The smell of Colin’s apology roses is overwhelming that I politely ask him to put the flowers outside. While he’s making multiple trips down three flights of stairs, I grab our phones to put them on charge. When I turn them back on, they’re going crazy with messages. Even I’ve got numerous messages. “That’s odd.” I think. “I normally don’t have that many people texting me.” Then, I open the first message. It’s from my little sister Amy.

  Amy: Why didn’t you tell me that you and Colin.Fucking.McKinney were back together? I have to find out on the Internet. Really???

  The next one is from Rachael.

  Rachael: I obviously need some Charlie time. What the hell? You and Colin look good together.

  I put my phone down and don’t bother reading the rest of them.

  “Colin,” I call. “We’ve made more than the entertainment news.” I remind him after he’s carried the last bunch of flowers outside. “Apparently, we’re on the like real news Web sites.”

  He shakes his head in disgust and walks over to me taking me in his arms. “It’s okay. At least, it’ll be good press this time.”

  We pull up one of the mainstream news Web sites. Sure enough, there’s a close-up picture of Colin and I on the Ferris Wheel, and we’re making out like crazy. You can’t really see my face, but it’s clearly Colin. The story is essentially Colin McKinney and another woman (besides Sasha Stone) are making out in public. I roll my eyes and close the site. Is Colin and I kissing really news worthy?

  “Colin, I’m okay.” I reassure him. “No big deal, it was bound to happen sooner or later. Did you see how nice my infinity necklace looked in the picture?”

  He smiles at me. It’s the Colin McKinney half smile that I love so much. “Now the world knows how I feel about my girl.”

  He begins a delicious attack on my body. No part of me is spared his attention, and it’s fabulous. I own him right now. He’s mine. Colin makes sure that I spend the next couple of hours not obsessing about the text messages that are flooding our phones or the news stories that are now being written about us. It’s just the two of us, in our own world, and I am very grateful for the distraction.

  I know that this is one of our last moments in our cocoon. Tomorrow, there’ll be speculation over who the girl is in the picture. Someone will figure it out. Then, Sasha’s article about their relationship will hit newsstands. Right now, I don’t care. Colin is mine, and I’m his. We’ll get through these next couple of weeks together, and then we’ll be old news.

  Colin and I are snuggled in my bed. His long, lean naked body is pushed up against my back, and he’s holding me in a tight embrace.

  “I have a photo shoot in New York in a couple of weeks. Do you want to go with me?” he asks in a sleepy voice.

  “Sure, baby. Let Brad know the dates so he can put it on my calendar,” I reply as I slip off into dreamland.

  Chapter Nine

  SUDDENLY, I’M awaken by Colin yelling from downstairs, “FUCK!”

  My heart plummets into my stomach and I race downstairs naked. Please don’t let him be hurt. When I reach the second floor, I’m relieved to see him pacing back and forth with his phone pressed against his ear. I reassure myself that he’s okay. Then, I hear the commotion outside. I gingerly walk to my living room window which looks down onto the street. I peek between the slats on my plantation shutters and see about thirty reporters and cameramen on my driveway.

  At first, I’m confused. “The picture was great of us,” I say only loud enough for me to hear.

  Then, it hits me. Talk Magazine must have released the Sasha Stone interview online early instead of waiting for it to come out in print on Friday. That’s the only reason that there would be this much attention on us.

  Colin’s pacing back and forth between the kitchen island and my front door. I’m assuming that he’s on the phone with Mark because he’s yelling. I wonder if Colin ever talks to Mark when he isn’t mad about something. I make a mental note to ask Colin when he doesn’t look murderous.

  I bite the bullet and walk upstairs to get my phone. Yup! It’s what I thought only worse. The Sasha Stone article went live before I could warn my family, and she did an interview with Good Morning America which aired this morning.

  I throw on my yoga pants and tank top. My first call is to my office building. I give them the Cliff Notes version and ask them very nicely to keep the reporters on the sidewalk. They agree. My next call is to Brad. He, of course, knows what’s going on, and he’s furious with me for turning off my phone last night. He agrees to send out an email to the office employees warning them about the increased media attention and to remind them they’ve signed non-disclosure agreements and cannot talk about the patients or doctors in our office without penalty of termination and lawsuit.

  God, it’s so harsh. I tell Brad to use my credit card to cater lunch for everyone. It feels like that it’s the least that I can do.

  Then, I call my father. He’s very short with me and says that we’ll discuss this when I get in the office.

  Where’s my coffee? Doesn’t the world know that I can’t function without my three cups of morning coffee? Especially on a morning like this!

  I walk downstairs and pour myself a cup ignoring Colin who’s still yelling. I take it back upstairs to drink while I take a shower and get dressed. I presume that it’s going to take a few extra minutes to get through the reporters, and I can’t afford to be late on a surgery day.

  The shower spray feels good against my body. I wish Colin was with me in the shower, but I know that he’s too busy yelling about things that he can’t change downstairs. He thinks that this’s going to make me leave him. It’s not. I wish that he could find confidence in our relationship. I wish that he would see that I’m his until infinity. I mean it. Every bit of it. The only way that he is going to find the solace that he needs is for me to prove to him that I’m strong and that I can handle the onslaught of media attention that’s now directly focused on us.

  As I’m drying off, he walks into the bathroom. I do a quick read of his body language. He’s angry and scared. I can deal with that. I can’t deal with defeated.

  “Why don’t we run at the office this evening? We can use the treadmills,” I suggest.

  He looks at me like I have two heads. “Okay,” he says with apprehension in his voice.

  “What time are you meeting with the trainers today?” I ask completely ignoring the huge pink elephant in the room.

  “After lunch. I’m going to work out with both of them and see how it goes,” Colin replies still cautiously.

  “Awesome. Tell them that you’re saving your cardio workout for me,” I reply enjoying my double entendre.

  I walk into my closet looking for a dress that makes me look awesome. I decide that if I’m about to be splashed all over the Internet, magazines, and television that I might as well look my best. I choose an aqu
a blue wrap dress that’s conservative but shows off my curves and some fabulous Jimmy Choo shoes.

  When I emerge from the closet Colin is sitting on the edge of my bathtub. “Are we going to talk about this?” He asks cautiously.

  “What’s there to talk about? We knew that it was coming. It’s just sooner rather than later. No big deal.” I reply nonchalantly.

  “I’ve asked the security that we used last night to watch over you until all of this dies down.” He states.

  “What?” I fire back at him. “I don’t need security. They’re just reporters. When’s the last time that a reporter fired a gun at somebody?”

  “Don’t argue with me, Caroline. They’ll be here in fifteen minutes. It’s for your protection and my peace of mind.” He crosses his arms over his chest doing his best tough guy impression.

  “Whatever. I’m not going to argue with you. I’m assuming that I’m safe in the office so I’ll only have them on the way to work and home?” I ask him.

  He nods his head and says very quietly, “I need to be honest with you.”

  My stomach falls. I’m sure that my face betrays the panic that I feel inside. What does he have to tell me? All the “what ifs” flood my brain like lightning strikes on a dark night. My doubts are crushing me. What if there are other women? What if Colin can’t take this level of personal invasion in his life? He did say that he doesn’t even do profile interviews. What if the media attention is about more than just Sasha’s nasty article and our picture together?

  I take a seat on my sink counter top. I have a feeling that whatever he is about to reveal might take my legs from me. “What is it?”

  He runs his hand through his hair creating a sexy tussled mess. “Things are different since we were together eight years ago.”

  I nod my head acknowledging that fact. Things are different. We’re more mature. He’s a bigger star.

  He continues, “After we broke up, I accepted endorsement deals that made me more of a household name than before.”

  I know this. I saw his underwear campaign ten stories tall on the side of a building when I was in medical school. Colin endorses brief underwear that he doesn’t wear.

  “I do a twice yearly underwear campaign. I have a cologne out that’s one of the bestselling male fragrances in the world. I’ve got a line of fitness clothes, and a shoe deal. I’ve done guest modeling during New York City fashion week. Big Bertha and I do commercials for Ford. I’m part owner of restaurants, clubs, and hotels across the country. Aiden and Mark have done a wonderful job of making me a household name.” He pauses for moment thinking of how to continue.

  I knew that he’s been successful off the football field, but he’s right. I had no idea that he had his hand in some many different pots.

  He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. Even frustrated, angry Colin is hot. “When you and I were together before, I was a guy who threw a football far and accurately. Now, I’m a guy who throws a football far and accurately, but I’m also a brand. Does that make sense?”

  I’m quiet because I’m thinking about what that means to me and us. I guess I’m still missing his point because I don’t see how Colin being a brand changes our relationship. Finally, I respond. “Well, I must be dense. Please spell it out for me, because I’m clueless here.”

  Damn it! He drops himself into the pose that I hate so much. He leans his forearms on his thighs and drops his head. I climb off the counter top and sit next to him on the edge of the bathtub placing my arms around his waist. I snuggle into his side hoping that my contact will give him the courage to keep talking. “Tell me, baby,” I encourage.

  “I get attention from fans,” he finally says. “You got a taste of it last night at the rodeo. I get normal marriage proposals and silly stuff like that, but I also get the messages like ‘I’ll kill myself if you lose the game.’ Hell! Big Bertha has a fan page on Facebook and her own Twitter account.”

  My face must betray the question that is screaming in my head how is it possible for a hideous, environment killing truck to have social media accounts?

  Colin smirks, “Jenny posts on Bertha’s accounts because she finds my truck almost as amusing as you do.” Then he gets back to serious Colin. “Anyway, I now live in a gated community because I had a female fan that I found in my bed. She had broken into my home and had a gun in her car.”

  I shudder at the thought. We were robbed once when I was a little kid. That was scary. I can’t imagine being targeted in my home because of who I am. “It’s okay, baby.” I reassure him. “I’m not going to make you move…”

  “Let me finish,” he says stopping me before I can continue. “Mark, Aiden, and I are afraid that one of the crazy fans might lash out at you. It was no secret in the media that our break up was hard on me. They’re afraid that someone might try to injure you thinking that they’re doing me a favor. Then, there’s Sasha. She has her own set of fans. There’s no telling what crazy people will do.” A thought flashes through my brain. Who are my fans?

  I finally see the big picture. This is so much larger than just Colin and I and some bitter ex-girlfriend. “Okay! I understand. I get it. Thanks for telling me. I’ll be careful,” I reassure him.

  I stand up and place myself between his long legs and rest his head against my chest. I hug him to me tightly. “It’s just you and me. All the other stuff is just stuff. You’re just a guy who throws a football, and models underwear, and pimps cologne, and does all this other stuff,” I tease. “And I’m just a girl who has to get to the office because I use power tools during surgery to repair sports injuries, and today, I have four patients who couldn’t care less who I’m sleeping with that are depending on me to make them feel better.”

  He stands up and begins to change into jeans and a polo style shirt. “Well, I’d hate to keep you from your power tools. Let’s go see if your security is here.”

  Sure enough, there’s a black suburban looking car waiting for me outside. Colin calls somebody and tells them that I’m ready. Suddenly, the doors of the SUV open, and the same three very large and scary looking individuals from last night begin pushing their way through the crowd of reporters and up to my door.

  Colin turns me around so I can see his fierce green eyes. “I love you. Be careful, and I’ll see you after lunch. Please, for my sake, will you listen to these guys and let them protect you? Don’t go all Charlie on me. Okay?”

  I nod my head yes. “I’m worried about you though. Please don’t be all Charlie either.” I’m enjoying that my nickname has a new use.

  “I’ll have a driver and security just like you, but I’ve had some time to get used to the attention. I’m fine… Charlie” He says emphasizing my name. Colin continues trying to reassure me, but I must be doing a bad job of hiding my anxiety because he kisses me deeply and passionately as if to soothe me. When he pulls away, he says, “I love you. I’m fine, baby.”

  “I love you too, Colin.” I tell him before I open the door and step outside while the body guards all but carry me to the waiting black Suburban. I can hear cameras clicking and lights are flashing all around me. Reporters are screaming questions like, “did you know that he was seeing Sasha Stone?” My favorite one is, “When is the baby due?” Then, they start referring to us by our old nickname CharCol. I inwardly roll my eyes and remind myself that this is part of being in love with the Statement, but apparently my mission statement is now more epic than I realized.

  As soon as I’m shoved inside the waiting car, the doors are closed, and the car starts moving toward my office building, I shoot Brad a text letting him know that I’m on my way with the security detail. I assume that at least one of the no neck guys will be spending the day with me at the office. The driver is Al from last night. The guy sitting next to me is Phil. Not a very scary sounding name, but I don’t dare tell him that. The dude’s a brick house. Phil says that he’ll be my shadow today. Al will be available if I need to leave the office.

  I in
form Phil that I’ve got surgeries today, and because he’s not in the medical field, that he’ll have to secure me from the waiting room. Phil nods his head. Apparently, he’s not very talkative.

  I lean my head against the leather seat and close my eyes. It’s not even eight o’clock in the morning yet, and I’ve had a full day. Thank God that it’s a surgery day so I don’t have to see patients. I get the solace of the operating room where no one will bother me.

  When we pull up to my building, there are a fresh set of reporters on the sidewalk. I’m sure that they’re sorely disappointed when Al drives under the building to the loading dock and drops me off in the basement. I thank him and climb out of the backseat with Phil in tow.

  We change elevators on the second floor and head up to my practice on the 34th floor. I’m not prepared for the stares that I get when I step off the elevator and enter my practice that I’m part owner of. My staff is looking at me with a bit of awe, contempt, and nervousness. I ignore the looks and make my way straight to my office where Brad is waiting with a large cup of coffee.

  I draw the line on Phil following me into my office and instruct him to take a seat at Brad’s desk.

  Brad follows me into my office shutting the door behind him before collapsing on my couch. “I’ve always wanted to know a celebrity,” he opens with.

  I dramatically roll my eyes at him. “Not in the mood, tell me about my surgeries today.” I take a sip of my coffee and slip my shoes off my feet as I listen to Brad get me caught up on my procedures.

  Just as he’s wrapping up, there’s a knock on my door. Brad opens it, and I see Phil filling up my doorway. My dad and Carmen are standing behind him obviously outraged that they were stopped from entering my office.