The Reality of You (21 page)

“So how does a star
soccer player end up as a…secretary temp?”

“I have a minor in
computer science, and a major in coaching. I’d always planned on using my
soccer career to eventually coach at the college level. Now I’m waffling
career-wise. I’m not sure what I want to do.” That was the truth, regardless of
my fake or real job.

“Why don’t you still
try for a coaching position?”

I shrug. “Missing
most of the last season and the Olympics kind of ruined my credentials.”

He let out a
harrumph. “You’re scared.”

I laughed sadly.
“Yeah, I’m scared.”

He surprised me by
adding, “I get it. The accident, the fiancé, and the end of the Olympic dream
ruined your confidence.”

Boy, did he get it.
Big time.

“And I suppose you
would have gotten more experience on the Olympic team, but do you actually
believe that or the accident took away any skill you have for being a coach?”

I considered his
question for several long seconds. “No.”

“That’s what I
thought.” And he left it at that.

Reese scooted down
until we were spooning, his arm and leg around me, his breath in my ear.
“Goodnight, Ms. Porter.”

I smiled into the
dark at the ‘Ms.’ “Goodnight, Mr. Jordon.”

It was dead quiet minutes
later, and the echo of the waves hummed beyond the huge window that looked over
the backyard. Comfortable and warm in his arms, I let the lull of the waves,
the cadence of his breath, and the ideas he had put in my head pull me to
sleep.

*****

“Should
I rub your stomach?” Reese asked in a playful tone, reaching toward my middle,
hauling me into a half hug.

“No,” I said with a
laugh and pushed his hand away.

We sat together in
the back of the limo as it headed toward my apartment. We’d just left a diner
on the outskirts of the city after a Sunday-morning drive. Because Paul hadn’t
had time to hire a new cleaning lady yet for the house, we had opted to have
breakfast on the road.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” I said,
laughing again. “It was only three pancakes and four pieces of bacon.”

“What about the
sausage and toast you stole off my plate?”

 
“I was starving, okay? Got quite the workout
between last night and this morning,” I added, grinning widely, recalling our
shower together this morning. There’d been more sexual activity than showering.

He grinned back.
“What about the running on the beach both mornings?”

“That wasn’t as
draining.”

He raised an
eyebrow. “What am I, a vampire?”

I widened my eyes as
if a light bulb had gone off inside my head. “That explains the gruff exterior,
the cold looks, the archaic speech, the poor social skills—”

“Poor social
skills?”

“You know, your
demanding streak?”

He grabbed my jaw
and gave me a hot kiss that explored my mouth. “Demanding enough?” he asked,
lifting his head.

“Perfect,” I said in
a dreamy tone.

Chuckling, he shook
his head then sighed. “I have quite the demanding schedule this week.”

My heart sank a
little. Geez, even rich, the guy worked harder than most people I knew.

His fingers ran
through my ever-present ponytail. “Can you do dinner Tuesday?”

Every other Tuesday
was pasta night at Avery’s place, and though I’d never been one to dis my
friends for a boyfriend, I found myself saying, “Yeah, that will work.”

Hey, we were on
limited time here and I wanted all the time I could get.

“Excellent. I have a
meeting or business dinner every other night.”

“Don’t you have
partners or something?”

“I do have one. But
Jason is not only married, they had a baby a few months ago. Thus, I try to
take the brunt of the after-hour schedule.”

I blinked at him.
“That’s pretty darn nice and quite caring.”

After shrugging his
shoulders slightly, he leaned over me, raising the arm that wasn’t behind me
like a cape. “Us vampires,” he said in the most awful Transylvanian accent ever
uttered, “aren’t always cold creatures.”

My lips twitched.
“I’d have to agree. Sometimes you’re rather hot.”

A spark of lust
entered his gaze before he kissed me again. By the time the limo stopped, I lay
sprawled across his lap with his hand under my sweatshirt.

“Damn,” he said,
breaking the kiss. “I should have told Paul to take the long way.”

“You should have.
I’m feeling easier than a free community college course.”

A chuckle escaped
him. Then he groaned as he moved me off his lap. “Your corny puns aren’t
helping.”

He kissed me swiftly
on the porch of the brownstone but didn’t ask to come up. Considering that Kara
was up there, I wasn’t surprised. I watched the limo take off before I went
inside and up the stairs. A smile stayed plastered on my face the entire way.

Until I opened the
apartment door.

Chapter 23

Opening
the door to the apartment, I was just short of attacked.

As soon as I stepped
inside, Jules and Avery had rushed over from their spots at the tiny island,
obviously standing in wait-slash-ambush mode.

“How was your
weekend?” Avery asked, darting across the room, shutting the door behind me,
and grabbing my suitcase.

Jules was one step
behind her, taking my purse and setting it on the table behind the couch. “What
was the house like?”

Apparently, I
couldn’t answer their questions if I had any baggage connected to me.

“Was the weather
nice?” Avery shoved my suitcase behind her and let it go. It teetered then fell
against a dining room chair.

“You wore that?”
Jules asked, scrunching her nose at my sweatshirt.

“Ah…” I felt a bit
overwhelmed.
 

They hovered closer,
and when I didn’t continue, they said in unison, “Did you sleep with him?”

I gawked at their
eager faces, while my cheeks warmed.

“Yes, Naomi,” Kara
said, standing behind the island. “Did he screw you senseless?”

The rude question
along with her flat look killed the spark of humiliation at being asked
point-blank if I’d slept with Reese.

I turned to Jules
and Avery. “My weekend was great. The house was incredible. Yes, I wore this.
And Reese is amazing in bed.”

Avery and Jules let
out squeals that reminded me of Fangirl. Kara’s expression turned sour. I was
suddenly back in high school.

Jules clasped her
hands together. “I should have brought champagne.”

Avery’s face lit up
as she raised one finger. “Wait a second. Hold that thought.” She started
shuffling through the cloth bags on the table. Like clockwork, Avery went each
Sunday to a farmer’s market.

She plucked out a bottle.
“I have apricot wine!”

Jules snatched the
wine from Avery. “Better than nothing. Get the glasses, Kara.”

Kara didn’t move.
“Have you two lost it?” she asked. “You’re seriously going apeshit because
Naomi got laid?”

Both women stared at
my roommate with wide eyes and open mouths until Jules put the wine on the
table and faced Kara, hands on her hips. “We are going apeshit because Naomi
finally came out of her shell, a shell of pain and humiliation that she’s been
hiding under for almost three years. The sex is just a bonus. Now get the
glasses.”

“Yes, Kara. Get the
glasses,” Avery echoed in a stern voice that was very un-Avery-like.

High school? Try
more like an elementary playground.

Kara looked like she
was going to say something more, but she began searching in the cupboard. While
Jules opened the wine, Avery cleared the table—most of the stuff was her bags.
Feeling like I’d staggered into some weird dimension, I slowly made my way over
to them.

Kara plunked down
three glasses, all plastic, and all from takeout places.

Jules raised a brow.
Kara gave her an overly sweet smile.

Instead of bitching
about the cups, Jules demanded, “Get a fourth glass.”

Kara folded her
arms. “No thanks.”

Jules set the bottle
down. “What exactly is your problem?”

“I’m not toasting to
anything that has to do with an asshole playboy.”

Jules placed her
hands on the table, leaning over it. “All men are assholes. So what’s the real
problem? Why all the hate for this particular asshole, Kara?” Her glare at Kara
was suspicious.

“Reese isn’t an
asshole,” I said, gripping the back of the chair.

The long pause in
the room reminded me of the cricket serenade outside the resort. Three sets of
eyes turned on me. They all held a gleam of skepticism.

My hands tightened
on the back of the chair. “Kara’s basing her opinion on the Internet and
gossip,” I said in a defensive tone.

“Oh, Naomi, you
are
falling for him,” Kara said sadly.

Avery drew in a
garbled breath then wheezed out an excited, “Are you?”

Jules stared at me
for several long seconds. “You do realize he’s a billionaire playboy, right?”

Funny, he didn’t
seem that way to me, but I was so not going there with this audience. “I know
all about him. Kara’s made sure. This is a fling. A hot fling that I’m
enjoying. I have about one more week, and then I’m aware I’ll be moving on. I
mean, come on. Any longer and he’ll eventually find out where I work.”

Jules studied me for
a long moment—most likely gauging the authenticity of my words—then nodded at
me but said, “Get another cup, Kara.”

Kara grumbled her
way to the kitchen yet came back with another plastic cup with the words
Ribs and Spicy Tips
in bright pink. The
apricot wine was poured, plastic cups were raised, Avery made a short speech
welcoming me back to the land of the living, and we all took a gulp.

The stuff tasted
awful, especially after a weekend of drinking fine wines.

They asked more
about my weekend. I kept my answers vague. Besides their being overly
intrusive, I considered my time spent with Reese…well,
mine
. After about half an hour, Avery and Jules left, each off to
some different shopping adventure.

Kara took the
glasses to the kitchen sink and proceeded to rinse them and rinse them and
rinse them some more.

I’d given a bit of
contemplation to Kara and her dislike of Reese over the weekend, and I had
slowly come to a conclusion. Reaching for my fallen suitcase, I cleared my
throat. She didn’t look up from her task. I went into my spiel anyway.

“You’ve pushed me
into a lot this past year”—from pool playing to going out to dressing like a
normal person—“which I really needed. Sure, I moved from home, but yes, I would
have hid in this apartment.” I hardened my resolve before I went on. It was
possible that Kara wouldn’t like the next part. “Do you think it’s possible
that you’ve grown so accustomed to bossing me around that maybe you’re more
upset about me not listening to you than my dating Reese?”

Kara turned to stare
at me. Her expression turned thoughtful as emotions flickered over her face.
Finally, she turned back around. “No. I don’t think that’s the case.”

Patience. Patience. Patience.
“Okay, let’s say this ends tomorrow
and I’m heartbroken. Then what? You’re going to be pissed at me?”

She shut the water off
but didn’t turn around. “I’m not pissed at you. I’m pissed at the situation.
I’m pissed at…me.”

“Huh?”

She spun around and
leaned on the counter, crossing her arms. “I got you into this situation. I
assumed I had it all figured out, and now it’s blown up in my face.”

A sharp laugh toned
with ridiculousness escaped me. “You’re being overly dramatic. Sure, I might
miss him when it’s over,” I said, and tinge of sadness swept through me, making
me fear that Kara was more right about my falling for Reese than I’d let myself
believe. Yet I wasn’t giving up the week or so I had left. “But come on. I’m
not going to fall head over heels in love with him in three weeks!”

“No. Probably not.
At least for real.”

All right, I was
getting tired of her insinuating that I had no fucking control. It had taken me
one full month to tell my first boyfriend in eighth grade that I loved him.
Over two months to tell Shane, my high school boyfriend of two years, about my
feelings. And with James? I’d held out for four months. Yes, I’d wanted to say
it sooner, but I’d stayed strong. If my thirteen-year-old self had been able to
keep control for a month, my wiser twenty-five-year-old self wasn’t going to be
more weak willed.

“How about we agree
to disagree on this topic?” I asked, throwing a flag of truce out.

“Naomi, I…ah—” She
drummed her fingers on the counter. “You know what? Maybe
I
have grown accustomed to making your choices. Just ignore me and
enjoy your fling,” she said in a tone of finality.

“All right,” I said
slowly. Her sudden about-face had me not only confused but also wanting to
change the topic. “Are your parents picking us up or are we going there?” On
Sunday nights, we ate dinner with Kara’s parents, whether at their penthouse or
one of the many restaurants in the city, which was why I’d asked Reese to get
home prior to two o’clock.

Kara shook her head,
and a spark of irritation hit me at the implication that she wouldn’t want me
to come.

“Why?” I resisted
stomping my foot.

“They’re out of town
until Wednesday.”

“Oh,” I said slowly.
“Do you want to go to Gibbs?” Another offer of a truce on my part. Gibbs was a
healthy, organic-type eatery that offered many low-carb selections. I’d rather
have pizza. The buzz about pizza in New York wasn’t false. New York City had
the best pie in the world. Even the ‘crap’ was better than the stuff at home.

“How about we go to
Marcelli’s?”

A smile broke out on
my face. Marcelli’s pies were the furthest thing from crap but loaded with
calories. Kara had upped the offer of truce.

She did one up on me
by suggesting, “We could leave within the hour, before the dart boards get
busy.”

I ruled at darts,
beat her ass every single time. I tried to restrict my growing smile so it
didn’t appear like I was gloating. Seriously, this girl was the best friend
ever, even when she disapproved of me.