Entangled (A Tryst Novel) (14 page)

Gio stands from his seat and grabs for a step stool near a vintage, teal cabinet and places it next to the couch I’m curled up on. He climbs to the third step, looming over me, and it’s the sudden gleam of excitement in his hazel stare that convinces me. Convincing me of what? I’m not sure yet, but my answer is already yes.

“Lie down, and trust me.”

“Right now?” I reply timidly, but still find my body shimmying down until I can only see Gio’s large lens hanging above me, shielding his face, but his bulky arms bend outward, holding the device in steady place. I can’t tell if I find it more comforting with his face hidden or not.

I try to relax as I lie back, letting my hair splay out on the cushion. I find myself welcoming this distraction to my erratic thoughts. Actually, for the first time, this feels like a form of mental Zen as I shift gears, leaving my emotions down the hall in that bathroom with that stupid magazine. Instead, I’m in the moment, here with my cup of tea and this strange man with a camera. I think I can release my anguish here, that’s if I can get a grip on what I’m getting myself into, but I think I like it.

He speaks from behind the camera, his accent thicker than before, crooning over me. “All I’m going to do,
bella
, is say something, and all you have to do is relax and react.”

Those seem like two contradicting sensibilities, but before I realize what is happening he practically whispers a word into the air like an incantation.

“Love.”

My face squirms at first, struck by what it means to me, and then my cheeks heat in unison with my stare as I let myself get absorbed into the glass orb six feet above me, my eyes wide with apprehension and need. I need love.

The rounding, clicking sound of his camera snaps four times before he exclaims another magic word, barely allowing me a mental moment to expand on the word from before.

“Pain.”

This time my body flinches, and reflexively my hand rubs over the forming bruise on my arm.

Click. Click. Click.

I see Gio twitch, and I almost think he’s going to scold me for moving my arm rather than staying still. Instead, he crisply exclaims another word, and it feels like a punch to my gut.

“Hurt.”

I curl inward while my hand comes to touch my eye, as if to remember the bruise that once marked me. I can’t help but let my eyes drop from the lens to sink into how I feel. My previous relationship, and the abuse that it came with, swallows my world whole. The silence in between words feels heavy now. I’m flooded with memories that swiftly move from love to hate, and then combust into
hurt
.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

“Family,” Gio blurts out, but my eyes flicker with a sense of love and loss, and I think of Josh, who’s still within reach, but then also of my parents, who left me too early in my life.

Click. Click. Click.

Curiously Gio says another word, but this one rings empty of meaning as he looks for an answer. “Sister?”

Unmoving, I stare up at the faceless orb above me.

Click.

Gio chuckles before adding another word questioningly. “Brother?”

This time the corners of my mouth twitch, thinking of one of my fondest memories of Josh. That day he flew back to this city just to drive me to my first day at a new high school after our parents died, and I had to move in with a relative. I’ll never forget how much I needed him then, and how much it meant that he dropped everything to be there for me, even if he could only be there briefly because he was attending Cornell University.

Click. Click.

“Parents.”

A soft gasp catches in my throat, and I let my head turn to the side, not willing to let the Cyclops above me capture my tears that are always ready at a moment’s notice with the topic. I miss my parents, hating that with every year my memories of them only get fuzzier. No teenage girl should ever have to endure the loss of both parents.

Click. Click. Click.

“Friends.”

I wipe my nose, but don’t turn my head as I let a grin grow across my face.

Click. Click. Click.

“Enemies.”

I shift my look upward, daggering the lens with my eyes, and I swear I hear a short intake of breath.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

“Gio.”

The name throws me, but I’m so absorbed in this game, my face unveils an involuntary look of suspicion and caution, but my brows pull together apprehensively.

Click. Click. Click.

I see his body flinch for a split second, and I try to politely soften my look.

Click. Click.
 
There’s no escaping that lens.

“Blake.”

I feel my whole body turn languid at the mention of that name. Blake’s name oozes through my insides like thick, sweet, sinful syrup, and the need to put my arms around him and bring him close flushes to the surface of my skin.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Finally, Gio pulls the camera away from his face, letting out a ringing whistle.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Tell me how I can get a woman to look
that
way at the mention of
 
my
 
name?
Per favore
.”

Although he’s smiling approvingly, I can’t help but scramble for an apology. “I didn’t mean to be that way when you said your na—”

Gio’s laughter cuts me off. “I guess I know how you really feel about me now.” He laughs a few more times, but ends it with a breathy resolve as he swings his stare back to mine softly, his eyes like a brewing electrical storm. “I don’t want you to feel that way about me. We are friends, no?”

I nod, sitting up to bring my knees to my chest, hugging my legs and his freshly laundered shirt close.

“I will get you to trust me, and I’ll be sure that that look you gave when I said your love’s name will remain on your face forever, too.”

I want to roll my eyes at his sudden transition into cheesy. “You mean that?”

Gio steps down from the ladder, tapping me on my chin a few times before saying, “I do.”

Blake

I strum my fingers over the steering wheel, enjoying the burn of the heat on my fingertips as they feverishly patter over the hot leather. The burn means only one thing to me, and it’s that I’m getting home long before the sun has set. That has not happened since I started filming. For once, my day is done before five in the evening, and I have so much planned with the opportunity. I’m antsy to get home.

Doesn’t Kathryn know that each minute is precious? I have this one early night. It’s like a small gift from the studio before I board the plane for the second press junket to start. It’ll be another flight to New York, but this time for two whole weeks.

I stretch out my neck, rolling it to the left and right, feeling a pang of guilt at the thought. I admit, each moment away from home has been painful, but all at the same time, work has been thrilling, and my career is expanding. I can feel it. This is the success I’ve been waiting for. It’s happening faster than I imagined with the rising hype for the movie, but nonetheless, I want to grow. I want to succeed, and I want to share this life with that feisty, dainty thing that is hopefully home right now.

My knee bobs under the steering wheel. I know the frantic movements are out of frustration with my current delay, combined with my nerves over the slew of things I need to ask Skyler before I leave again.

For now, all I want to do is lay my eyes on her in the light of day.

I want to be excited to talk to her, and I want her to be excited to answer the questions I have. She can handle all this with me. I know she can. I just hope she’s willing, because I need her.

There have been so many times in the past month that I’ve wanted nothing more than to join Skyler on campus to study, or to sit in the coffee shop, watching her until she got off work like I used to; entranced by something so simple yet so beautifully complicated. Those are the simple pastimes I enjoy. It’s a sense of normalcy that I crave in between the bouts of flashing cameras or rolling film. I didn’t know the balance would be so overwhelming to wrap my head around. I want it all.

The passenger door opens, and Kathryn gracefully slips inside. “Sorry it took me so long.”

“No problem,” I say, already shifting my car into drive before her door is shut.

“Yikes,” she chirps through a feigned giggle. “In a hurry, are we?”

Kathryn’s goading eyebrows annoy me, but I force a smile. “You know I am.”

“Hmm,” she huffs. “Skyler, right?”

I nod, not taking my eyes off the road because Kathryn’s transition in tone is one I’ve been able to identify now, and I don’t want to get into the same topic that this tone comes with.

“Have you asked her yet?”

“Kat, just stop.”

The corner of her mouth arches upward as she watches me try to focus on the road. We had such an awesome day on set, why does she have to rattle my cage?

“I just don’t get it. You keep saying you two are close, and that you’re going to ask her to that actors’ guild awards show, but you haven’t. Why?”

“I told you. I’m waiting for the right time.”

“I think you’re full of shit.”

I cringe. Profanity doesn’t sound natural on Kathryn. She’s almost too southern belle, though I’m perfectly aware of her nasty side. We’ve become better friends than I assumed we would. “Is there a reason you’re harping on this for the billionth time? I don’t pry into your relationship issues; instead they’re just unloaded on me, regardless of what I say.”

“I think—”

“‘
I think, I think!
’” I mimic, “You keep saying that, Kat, but you forget that with this specific category of my life, I don’t need advice.”

She laughs. “I’m not allowed to give you advice? Weeks and weeks of me telling you about my disgustingly public breakup, and as a friend, I notice something not right with your own relationship, you want me keep my mouth shut?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, frantically adding, “I think you’re worried she isn’t going to fit in, and maybe you’d be right in worrying.”

We stop at a red light, and I take the moment to rub at my eyes. “She’ll fit in, it’ll just be hard for her to wrap her head around it at first. This isn’t your problem. Anyway, if you saw her, or knew her, you’d know she’d fit right in. She’s smart enough to handle it.”

“The pretty premed student, Blake, we know.”

I’m only allotted a second to shoot Kathryn a disapproving glare before having to look back to the road and move forward. “How would you even know that? I’ve only mentioned she’s in school.”

She rolls her eyes. “Blake, how often do you see me rifling through pages of gossip magazines, trying to figure out what the world knows about me today?”

I turn to her, offering her my most charismatic smile. “And how many times have I told you, you’re going to drive yourself insane?”

She shakes her head. “What makes you think you haven’t shown up on those pages, too?”

I snort. “Stop it. You’re just trying to rile me up now. It’s not going to work.”

“I care about you, Blake. We’re friends.”

I want to ask
Are we? 
only because even I know that Kathryn has put her tongue down my throat longer than she needs to while filming romantic scenes on set. I cringe inwardly, knowing that there are some things I’ll never be able to tell Skyler, not that I think she needs to know those particular details. I just don’t need to plant any seeds of doubt. Not when it comes to women.

“I care about you, too, but this is not a topic I’m willing to discuss.” I shrug, still bewildered by her words.

“Blake, are you even listening to me? I swear, I only have your best interest in mind, and you’re new to this side of Hollywood. Don’t forget that.”

“What are you getting at?”

She grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest, leaning back into the seat. “Why do you think those photographers hang out outside the studio? And don’t think that some days they won’t be at your house, not to mention, also stalking you and your pretty girlfriend, ’cuz they will!”

“Spit it out, Kat!” I bark, getting more frustrated by the minute.

“
People
magazine nearly did a whole page on you. Snapped photos of you and your girl out on a date, or something. They had her whole backstory. A premed student, Blake, really? How is she going to be the girl you need her to be with something like that she has to dedicate her time to?”

I’m more confused. My look softens, even though I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel.

Kathryn releases a long exhale, softening her anger to match my confusion. It’s a form of kindness, and I really want to believe she has good intentions. Why is the world so against Skye and me? I didn’t see this part coming.

“Where do you think all those photos go, Blake? They have to end up somewhere.”

“They talked about Skyler?” I ask, perturbed by this whole revelation.

“Yes.” She pauses, leaving the silence hanging for a few seconds before she adds, “She’s very pretty.”

I have no want to turn to Kathryn this time, and instead revel in the involuntary curve of my lips. “She is.”

As I pull my car to a stop in front of Kathryn’s beach condo in Santa Monica, I want to tell her to get the fuck out, rather than politely waiting for her to exit, but I know there isn’t a reason to be rude.

She is still in the passenger seat, testing my patience. Without looking at me she asks, “Will you come get a beer with me?”

“Kat . . .” I groan, rubbing at my eyes again. “Don’t make me be the bad guy.”

“I’m not. It would be nice to have you as a friend off the clock, rather than only on the clock. I hate my condo right now. Everything reminds me of him.”

“We leave for New York soon. We’ll hang out then. I promise. We’ll get drinks, I’ll pay for the cab, and you can vent all your troubles.”

She huffs. “Right. Ya know—”

Ring. Ring. Ring.

My cell phone interrupts her.

“Oh, is that Skyler! Is she as eager as you?”

Ring. Ring.

It isn’t, but it doesn’t matter. “Kat, please . . .” I persist with blatant annoyance as I pull my phone from my jeans.

She releases an unconvincing giggle. “I’m just jealous, you know? That’s all. Not of her, but of what you two have. I just—”

Ring. Ring.

“—I’m sorry, Kat. I have to get that.”

Before she responds I press answer. “Hi, Gio. What’s up?” I offer her a shrug as an apology, and she mouths
It’s okay
as she clambers out of my car, shutting the door behind her.

Gio’s accent sounds thicker than normal, and I have trouble understanding him. “Gio, what was that?”

He clears his throat. “
Buongiorno
, Blake. Sorry about the sudden call. I’ll make this quick. I wanted to extend a special invitation to you and Skyler for my gallery opening in West Hollywood. Invite only, you see.”

Gio never hesitates to imply that anything that involves him usually comes with exclusivity. I know he thinks I should be impressed by something like this, but I’m not.

“When?” I ask as I pull back onto the road, antsy to get home.

“In a couple weeks. It’s a Friday night. Starts at eight o’clock.”

I pause, wondering if I’m even allowed to decline the invite.

“It’s important to me to have you two there. Humor me, Blake. You only ever show up when you’re getting paid. Would it kill you to attend a social event?”

I can already hear Josh’s voice in my head. He told me something similar days ago. Josh said that forming a friendly, active social life is important to stay relevant. I’m thankful Gio can’t see me roll my eyes.

“No problem. We’ll be there.”

I hope Skye doesn’t get too defensive when I mention our already confirmed outing. I wince, knowing I’ll just add it to the list of things we need to discuss.

***

When I enter through the front door I’m wired, and maybe on the edge of frantic. I’m like a junkie in need of their fix, and I won’t be okay until I remedy my need to touch her.

It’s utter relief when I see Skyler in the kitchen, her back to me as she leans over the sink. I’m made content just looking at her. I didn’t want to call and ruin the surprise. I had to take a chance that she’d be here.

Entering the room, I keep my paces slow, pleased that Skyler doesn’t stir as I watch, unaware that I’ve come home. I gently hang my keys next to the door, basking in her carefree state. I like witnessing it. She can be so rattled by school and deadlines, and me, that it’s nice to see. I nibble at the corner of my mouth, my eyes following the sway of her slender but womanly hips from side to side, and I notice her headphones are plugged into her ears, blocking out any outside noise.

The setting is almost too perfect.

The closer I get, the more I appreciate as my eyes take in the shape of her tight, round ass in her spandex running shorts, and the two dimples of her lower back right above the hem line. I want to kiss and lick them. I want to kiss and lick her everywhere.

Entering the kitchen, still unnoticed, I wonder if she went for a run or just came back from soccer practice. Her body isn’t slicked with sweat as if she had. My one-track mind can’t help but think of other activities that could get the same result.

I extend my hands out, eager to touch her, my withdrawals reaching their brink. My scowl from the day has been left at the door, and all that matters is that I’m here now.

Springing for it, I wrap my arms around her bare torso; her worn white shirt is tied in a knot just below her breasts.

Her whole body petrifies as she screams, the shriek causing me to let go and leap back. That wasn’t the reaction I had expected. She pulls the earbuds from her ears and places her phone on the counter.

I raise my hands defensively, but comically mime wide-eyed surprise as she swivels around in a panic.

At first, she’s terrified, her brows adorably knitted tightly together before she lays her eyes on me. Her face does what my whole body did only a minute ago. It relaxes, utterly satiated at the sight, and just as quickly this huge grin spreads through her face before she springs into my arms.

“You’re here!” she squeals before planting a hard, rough kiss against my lips.

I clamp my hands around her waist, and can’t help myself as I pin her to the counter behind her, letting out rumbling groan, as her tongue takes no prisoners, dipping into my mouth with passion identical to mine.

She pulls back abruptly, leaving me wanting, only to add words that can wait until later.

“How is it you’re home right now? I haven’t seen you before midnight in . . . in . . .”

“Forever,” I finish. Skyler’s smile knocks the wind out of me. I let her eyes dissect me once more, as if she’s unsure if I’m a figment of her imagination. She lifts her hands from my neck to caress my jaw, and slides her fingertips into my hair, dragging her nails against my scalp. I groan again, and my eyes sink closed.

“If you keep doing all of my favorite things, I’m going to take you on the kitchen floor.”

She giggles, tilting her head to the side. “I’m so happy to see you. I thought I was only going to get you for a few hours before your plane tomorrow.”

The fluid slide of my hands against her skin stumbles, instead stopping and gently squeezing at her soft skin, as if getting a physical grip might help my mental one, and as if reading me, she presses her forehead against mine. “Blake, come back to me. It’s okay, I promise.”

I don’t hesitate any longer. I press my lips to hers. The taste from before was too much of a tease. Needing her skin as a remedy, I impatiently pull the white T-shirt from her body and toss it carelessly to the floor, deciding on my plan of action as I take a firm grip of her ass, lifting her up off the ground.

Practiced in the ways of my whims, she wraps her arms around my neck, and her legs around my hips as I stride toward my bedroom, a maneuver that I’ll never get bored of.

“Blake . . .” she giggles against my lips.

We reach my bedroom, and I don’t want to let go. I kick my bedroom door shut behind me, allowing myself another tight squeeze of her ass, causing her to leap within my grasp.