Outer Core (19 page)

Darkness casts the room and the curtain slowly rolls up. I thread my fingers with Daniel's. I lean my head on his shoulder.

“Sorry. Um, ah, sorry,” a familiar voice whispers. I straighten, watching Tasha wobble into the empty seat I saved beside me.

“You made it.” I hug her tightly.

“Barely.” Smoothing out the creases of her dress, she raises her eyes to the stirring in the row before us. Ian's radiant smile shines at her. They both rise a little to hug over Ian's seat.

I expect Ian to comment in Ian fashion about Tasha being late. No banter comes out of his lips, though. He seems to be rendered speechless. His sentimental look back and forth between the two of us tightens my chest. Biological or not, we're the only family supporting him here tonight.

As Ian turns back and the credits show on the screen, I tilt my head closer to Tasha's. “I called his mom,” I whisper. Doubt laced concern fills her eyes. “I told her about the premiere and said her name will be on the guest list.”

“What did she say?”

“She didn't hang up on me.”

“Progress.”

We both turn to the screen as the music in tandem to the title fades out and the first scene begins. I snuggle under Daniel's arm, watching the screen in utter awe and with an immeasurable sense of pride. Watching Ian bringing Dean, a tortured soul from the wrong side of the tracks, to life is mesmerizing. It's Ian up there on the screen, but nothing about that Ian is familiar. His traits, his stance, even his drawl is so rough and . . .

“Heaven help me, he's so . . . badass.” Tasha completes my thoughts in a breathy, enthralled exclamation.

Halfway through the plot, my eyes mist over at the oh-so-expected tear-jerking “all is lost” moment. Or as I like to call it, “I want you so much but, love of mine, we can't be together. But no worries. The great forces to be are rooting for us, so bear with me for the next couple of scenes, okay?” I chance a glance to my right. As expected, Daniel appears to be painfully tortured. While to my left, Tasha is a sniffling, weepy mess.

George Washington once said, “To be prepared for war is one of the most effective means of preserving peace.”
And prepared, I am
. Digging into my purse, I produce item number one from the survival kit. “D.” I inch up to reach Daniel's ear. My disruption appears to be more than welcomed. I give him a thin smile, handing him a little flask. Taking the little silver bottle, he looks at me in question. I wink in place of an explanation, watching him open the bottle and take a quick drink. He sighs in relief, mouthing a humored, “Thank you” while rolling his eyes in an “I'm dying here” gesture. He throws back the rest of the drink.

Pursuing my humanitarian aid, I place a stack of balsam tissues on Tasha's lap. Transfixed by the events on the big screen, her eyes remain cemented to the action while she sends her hand to the tissues. She pats the paper under her eyes. Paper balled in her palm, Tasha rests her hand against her lips, watching Ian as Dean drive off toward the sunset on a black Harley.

With my work complete, I dig into my clutch once more, this time for a small pack of M&M's.
For the baby. Mother material, right there.
I bring a handful of candy to my mouth. I pivot my eyes sideway, sensing Daniel's stare on me. Under the dim glow coming from the screen, his smile caresses me. He gestures for me to lean closer. Shoving the chocolate into my mouth, I follow orders. Daniel sends his hand to the nape of my neck, pulling me into a deep kiss. Breaking the kiss, he eases back with a side grin and a couple of my M&Ms in his mouth. I glare at him, an action that only makes that sexy scarred lip climb higher.

“Hales.” Tasha nudges me with her elbow. Unenthusiastically, I turn away from the offered platter of mini cakes and wine being served after the screening. I search for what she gestures at with tense green eyes. Unspoken, we find each other's hands for a hold. Silently, we watch Ian as he walks toward his mother, his demeanor a display of restraint and caution.

“I can't believe she came after all.” The words leaving my mouth saturated with wonder.

We hold our breath, watching them talk. When the mother leans forward to give her son an uncertain embrace, our exhales come out as one. They exchange a few more words before she brushes the hair from his forehead and pats his cheek adoringly. She squeezes his hand and turns on her heels, scurrying out the building, as though terrified to miss curfew. Her vigilant behavior reinforces my assumption that her husband isn't aware of her whereabouts.

“So which one of you biatches called my mother?” Ian asks, snatching Tasha's drink from her hand and tossing it back daytime soap opera style.

Tasha tilts her head, squinting her eyes my way. Ian pins me with a lengthened gaze before wrapping me in his arms. He kisses my cheek. “Thank you.”

I say nothing, hugging him back.

“Can I steal him from you, ladies?” Josh's question makes me take a step back.

Tasha and I wait for Ian as he says good-bye to Josh, who is flying out to visit with his family before starting his new job. Given Tasha is back for a day and Josh is leaving soon, it was unanimously decided that the three of us should make the most of the reunion and spend the night and the next day together till Tasha leaves.

Ian grabs Josh for a healthy cheerio kiss, and I look anywhere but at the steam-producing duo. When my eyes land on Tasha, I grimace. Just as she watched Ian on the screen less than an hour ago, she raptly observes him tonguing Josh's tonsils out.

“How about giving the young couple some privacy,” I say, waving my hand before her eyes.

“That's,” she blinks, “so hot.”

My lips set in a fine line. “So, hi, that's our Ian,
not Dean
! Ogling our semi-brother making out with his boyfriend, who's my former boss, is wrong on so many levels.” I tug on her arm. Finally, she breaks her gaping. “Lack of action in Thailand?” I ask. “Rafa not functioning too well in the humid climate?”

That sobers her up completely. “Let's not talk boyfriends for the next twenty-four hours, okay?” she says vehemently.

Questions jump to the tip of my tongue. I choose to swallow them back, what with the little scary, warning look she has on me.

“This room is so gorgeous. I want to lay you down on the floor and slow bone you as a token of my sincere gratification,” Ian says, giving the room I got us for tonight another appreciative glance.

“The last time someone showed me his sincere gratification, I got knocked up, so I'll pass. Thank you, though.” I finish my words with a curtsy.

Ian snorts while Tasha raids the minibar. Both Thing One and Thing Two seem more happy with the luxurious suite than I expected. I leave out the fact that Daniel was the one who actually got us the room for tonight, taking into account Tasha's request not to mention boyfriends tonight and Ian's beau being away on his special night. Boys suck. Except mine, that is. He is on a higher level of existence than the rest of the “boy” species.

“Okay, we're good to go!” Tasha says after ordering most of the items on the room service menu. Everything besides dishes with coriander. There's some long and dark history with Missy and the poor herb. Trying to get to the bottom of it is ill-fated. No man who ever tried lived to tell the tale, or at least, that's what she claims.

We dedicate the next fifteen minutes before the food to exploring the wealth the suite offers, which births the brilliant idea of dining in the hot tub. Like excited little kids, we scatter our separate ways to find something to wear that's hot tub appropriate. Meeting back in the great room, each wrapped in a snuggly white robe, we grin at one another like complete idiots.

I raise a warning finger at Ian. “I swear, if you're naked under that robe, I won't be held accountable for my behavior.”

“What's hidden under this robe is too sacred to be shared with the likes of you,” he says with such animation that Tash and I can't help but crack a smile.

A knock at the door has Tasha squeal and get her purse.

Snuggled in a thick robe, I sit on the edge of the tub with my legs in the warm water. Pregnancy and hot tubs don't go hand in hand. I look around and smile. Tasha in a tank top and panties, Ian in boxers, warm water up to their chests, mellowing out in the balcony's hot tub. An assortment of aromatic dishes covers the edge of the tub beside me while we talk and taste
everything
. The look Tasha and Ian exchange next doesn't escape me. It pokes as though they've just said something behind my back.

“Speaking of food,” Tasha says, twisting her mouth.

Brace yourself, Hayley, here forth comes the kitty out of the bag.

“So what's the story with what's-her-face?” Ian scratches his chin, attempting to conjure up the name.

“What's the story with that Nadine person?” Tasha helps out.

“Pardon?” I say over a giggle.

“Oh, we're on to you.” Ian narrows his eyes at me. “Hayley Jasmine Grace, before you're off feeding from other people's pots, may we remind you that blood is thicker than broth?”

“Did you really just say that?” I laugh it off.

“You cannot just flock with someone else when our feathers are still warm.”

What does that even mean?
I let out another rolling laugh. The solemnity Ian is trying to pull off has the opposite effect with the nonsense coming out of his mouth. I can't stop grinning. “Can you just stop with the moronic analogs; they don't make any sense. What's your angle, peaches?” I scoot over and plunge my legs in the water between Ian and Tasha.

“The two of you seemed quite cozy on Thanksgiving if you ask me.” Tasha contributes her two cents.

“Anything we need to worry about?” Ian adds and Tasha nods. “We weren't born yesterday, gorgeous. We know full well that distance does make the heart grow adulterer-ier.”

“It's amazing how all sense of commitment goes away when good food is involved,” Tasha says drily.

I straighten up, looking at them both. “Okay, first off, there's no such thing as ‘adulterer-ier,' and the correct saying, I believe, is distance makes the heart grow
fonder
.” I shake my head with a smile. “And you two idiots are like the platonic loves of my life. So no matter how warm someone's oven is, or how alluring her cookie, no one could ever take your place.” I grin. “But she's pretty cool, right?”

They both shrug and murmur, “Yeah, so what.”

“Okay now, let's move on to an awesome movie premier.” I smile at Ian. In a once-in-a-lifetime occasion, Ian appears coy.

“I loved the movie so much I want to marry it and have its beautiful children,” Tasha gushes, her eyes dreamingly twinkling at Ian.

Ian radiates a smile that increases the stars in her eyes. “What did
you
think about it, Hales?” There's not a trace of cheer in the question. He studies me sternly, waiting for me to give him what I believe is an honest response.

“I think it had a solid plot, and your acting was perfect, really. C'mon, Tash here has a mini crush on Dean.”

Ian's lip twitches, but just a little.

“I'm not the ultimate chick-flick fan, but still, it held my interest and even made me shed a tear . . . or two when Dean drove off, leaving Blythe heartbroken.”

Ian nods, disappearing for a short pensive beat. He shrugs, his expression grim. “We all have to start somewhere, right?”

The frown on Tasha's and my face must be identical. “What are you saying?” Tasha utters our unified thoughts.

“I've been given this amazing chance, and I couldn't be more grateful. But I've been thinking, and this is not what I want to do. I'd rather work on projects that mean something, and I know that to make it happen I need to be better. This was a fluke, which I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around. How in the hell did I get this opportunity.” He shakes his head with a hint of a dismayed smile. “I'm going to take acting classes. That's what I'm going to do next. Well, at least before attempting auditioning again.”

I squeeze his shoulder. “Good for you.”

“That's great.” Tasha kisses Ian's cheek.

I look down at an appetizer in my hand. “So I have some news as well,” I begin. “I signed with an agent. Apparently, she really likes my illustrations and already has this project in mind for me that sounds interesting.” My friends are kissing me this time.

Tasha's expression turns sentimental. “I'm having a great time in Thailand and love what I'm doing. But I miss home and you guys so much.”

They rise to stand and the three of us huddle in a tight embrace, our foreheads touching.

“You know that's exactly how a good porn starts . . . a blonde, a brunette, and a stud getting it on in a hot tub,” Ian manages to say before we both dunk him into the water and keep him under for a few long, sweet seconds.

“Hales?” Daniel says as he spots me at his home office door. His stare drops to his watch and back at me. “Everything okay?”

I take silent steps till I reach him. Reading my intentions, he rolls his chair back to allow me enough space to nestle in his lap. He covers me in a warm, most anticipated embrace, prompting a little sigh from my mouth. I look up. “I missed you.”

His eyes crinkle so sweetly. “What about your friends?” He presses a soft kiss to my forehead.

“They passed out right after the hot tub and a couple of bubbly bottles. And before you ask, I had soda.” His smile grows. I inch up a little for my lips to touch his bristled jaw. “I'll go back before they wake up tomorrow morning. I just wanted . . . this.”

His hug around me tightens. I burrow my face in his t-shirt clad chest. Indulging in the feel of the soft fabric and perfect, warm Daniel scent. He lets me snuggle for a while, his nose and lips nuzzling in my hair in turns. When I yawn, he tips my head up with his finger. “Take you to bed?”