Hooker (L.A. Liaisons Book 2) (16 page)

“I was going to tell you—”

“You know,” she continued, “I’d expect secrets from Quinn. Hell, I couldn’t tell you where she ran off to this week, but you? You seem to be withholding a lot of information lately. Spill it, or I’m driving myself over to this new boyfriend’s house and jumping the gate to get the word from him.”

With a sigh, I told the girls the story I’d concocted as a cover.
 

Ace had called me, we’d spent time together earlier in the week, and the gay tabloid piece was the work of a jealous ex, blah blah blah. It was a flimsy excuse at best, even I knew that, but the alternative wasn’t something I could live with.
 

Paige’s eyes stayed narrowed the whole time, and when I finished, she pursed her lips.
 

Come on, just let it go so I don’t have to lie to your face any more than I already am.

But neither of them said anything, and Ryleigh went about making a sundae.
 

“You sticking to that story?” Paige said finally. She had a knowing look in her eyes, but I could see she wasn’t going to press for more information. If Quinn had been here, on the other hand, she probably would’ve guessed the truth in five seconds flat and called me out for it. She missed nothing.

Luckily, Ryleigh chose that moment to slide a new bowl of Five-Minute Quickie my way. “Hey, what about Dimples? What was his name…Nate? I liked him.”

Yeah, what
about
Nate
. That’s all I’d been thinking about all day and exactly what had sent me straight into the arms of the ice cream I was devouring.
 

I raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you the one complaining he was young enough to babysit?”

“I’m a sucker for dimples, but don’t tell Hunter. And he seemed crazy about you, even if he did leave you high and dry,” she said with a wink.
 

Yeah, I hadn’t gotten around to telling them about the surprise date we’d had on Monday,
thank God
.
Otherwise that would blow the Ace timeline a bit.
 

“You’re avoiding the question,” Paige said as she took a seat beside me. “What about Justin Bieber?”

“Um, what the fuck.”

“What? They’re about the same age, right?”

“No. Jesus.”
 

Ryleigh set a drink in front of Paige and then crossed her arms on the bar. “You’re looking a little flushed there, Shayne. Don’t tell me I should’ve given you a Double Dipper special instead.”

“No!” Paige gasped and placed her hand over her heart oh so dramatically. “Is our little hooker turning into a big-time madam over here?”

“I’m not double-dipping. Absolutely not.”

“Bullllshiiiiiit. If you haven’t yet, you will. Or want to.”

“You know, now that you mention it, I do recognize that conflicted expression,” Ryleigh said, tapping her chin. “Believe me when I say you don’t wanna go that route.”
 

And she would know. After reuniting with her high school crush, Cameron Mathis, over the summer at their ten-year reunion, she’d not only kindled a relationship with him, but she had also fallen for his roommate, her now-boyfriend, Hunter Morgan. Both were fuckin’ hot, Cameron in a blond ’n’ polished business suit sort of way, and Hunter in his blue-collar, getting-dirty-with-his-hands kind of way.
 

Color us not surprised at all when Ryleigh went with the man good with his hands.
 

Paige pointed her straw in Ryleigh’s direction. “Get off it, woman. Let her fuck whoever she wants—”

“Date,” I interjected.

“Whatever. So tell us. Who’s bigger? Is Ace’s package extra-large delivery, or have steroids destroyed his quivering member?”

I couldn’t help but laugh even as her words had me cringing. “I haven’t seen either package yet, thank you very much. It’s not what you think.”

“Fine. So tell us.”
 

“I can’t.”

“Is Val forcing you on Ace? Oh my gosh, hang on,” Ryleigh said, bouncing on her heels. Then she leaned over to whisper, “Is he really gay and you’re having to cover for him?”

Well, shit.

Before I could deny her way-too-accurate statement, Paige piped up. “Look at her. She’s too pretty to beard for some big shot. Hell, she above anyone deserves a sugar daddy.”

“You did not just say that.” I shook my head and pushed my bowl away. “I’m not looking for a damn sugar daddy.”

“Of course not. I said
deserves
. You’re practically a saint for putting up with Val, the brainless twins you have for roommates, and pairing off half of the city. Why shouldn’t someone take care of you for a change?”

“Aw, would you listen to that? She cares. She really cares,” Ryleigh said, and then shrieked as she moved out of the way of Paige’s thrown straw.

I sighed. “I appreciate that, I do. But I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

“Ugh. Fine. But when are you finally gonna let me convince you to move in with me? Your room would be as big as your apartment right now, plus you’d be able to actually relax without having to listen to
The Bachelor
reruns constantly or having your stuff smell like suntan lotion.”

“You wanting me to live with you has nothing to do with using me for my mad cooking skills?”
 

“No. I’m just selfish and think it would be fun to have girls’ night in our pajamas whenever we want.”
 

“You’re never home.”

“Exactly. It’s too damn quiet, and it creeps me out.”

I ended the conversation with a “Yeah, yeah,” and wished I could take her up on the offer. But there was no way. Paige’s place was a huge mansion up in the Hollywood Hills worth several million dollars.
 

Yeah.
Rich bitch was an understatement.
 

The house had been a college graduation present, not that she didn’t make significant money as an in-demand wedding planner. She’d never let me pay her rent, and I refused to be a freeloader. Stubborn Aussie pride and whatnot. And it wasn’t like my apartment was so bad. It was a bit run-down, but it had a great view, looking out over Hollywood with downtown L.A. in the distance. During the holidays a Christmas tree was strung up on the Capitol Records building, and the view of it from my couch was the reason I never had to spring for dragging a live tree up four flights of stairs.
 

“I’ll think about it.” My standard response every time she asked me that.

“You should think hard. And speaking of hard…” She grabbed two straws and held them up, her eyes twinkling. “Let’s discuss how you’re not enjoying things down under with two guys right now, you greedy hooker.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Juggling Balls

I WAS A right coward. I was. There was no denying it, and I wasn’t about to try.

Why all the self-loathing, you ask?

It was Friday. And I’d been ignoring Nate’s calls for four days.
 

I know. Don’t look at me like that.
 

Yes, he was this incredibly adorable guy, and most of you would be falling over yourself for him, but if you hadn’t noticed, my life was in a bit of an upheaval right now. I wasn’t even on speaking terms at the moment with Val—her decision, not mine—and I’d had to spend what would’ve been our second date last night with Ace instead, going over his schedule and planning future outings so that we could be “casually” spotted by paps.
 

To say my life was surreal at the moment was an understatement. I couldn’t drag Nate into that. Besides, he was this hot college guy, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t find a replacement in two seconds flat,
right
?

At least, that was what I’d been telling myself.
 

I didn’t have plans with Ace tonight, Ryleigh was spending a night off with Hunter, Quinn was off on one of her mysterious work trips again, and Paige was prepping a weekend wedding, so there I was, putting in a ten-hour day and counting. Thank God everyone had left for the night, and I could get my weekly column up on our website on time.
 

The column consisted of an Ask the Matchmaker Q&A, which I had to heavily edit because the questions could easily turn into a sex column free-for-all, as well as upcoming events and singles mixers. Our next one was scheduled for Valentine’s Day, just over three weeks away, and we already had a waiting list of people wanting to attend. Val had thrown the whole thing on me this week, so it hadn’t left much time to start recruiting for my more personal mission. Read: beard needed.

A beep alerted me to the front door to HLS opening, and a quick glance at the time told me it was Roberto making his final security rounds before the next guard took over for the night.
 

“Roberto, it’s just me,” I called out, and continued typing.
 

“I know. He let me up.”
 

My head jerked up at the sound of Nate’s voice just as he came to a stop in the doorway to my office and leaned against the jamb. Dressed in dark jeans, a collared shirt, and a navy blazer, and with his chestnut hair stylishly windblown, he looked like a wet dream.
My
wet dream. Somehow I’d convinced myself he wasn’t as gorgeous as he’d been in my memories, but I’d been dead wrong. He was so much more than that.
 

Oh God. This isn’t good.

Nate shoved his hands in his pockets and tipped his head to the side. “Not answering my calls?”

My mouth opened to speak, and I willed a response to come, but what could I say?
“Sorry, I’m supposed to be dating Ace Locke and can’t commit to more than one relationship at a time, but thanks for stopping by”?

“You missed our date last night,” he continued, stepping up to my desk. “I even stopped by your place, but your roommates said you weren’t home. Interesting friends, by the way.”

I simply stared up at him, wishing like hell things were different. Because if they were, there was no way I would’ve missed spending time with him. He’d had my attention from the first moment I’d seen him, and it would suck a fat one to make him leave. But he had to. For my damn sanity.

“Nothing to say? I didn’t think it was possible for
you
to go speechless.”

Sighing, I pushed away from the keyboard and stood. “Look, Nate…I like you. I do. I’m just not in a great place right now, and the last thing you need is to have to deal with all that.”

“Why don’t you let me make my mind up about what I’m willing and not willing to deal with?”

“Okay, fine. Spending time with you is the last thing
I
need right now.”

“Ouch,” he said, his hand going over his heart like he’d been wounded, and then he rounded my desk. “Wait. Is this because I took you to IHOP? In my defense, that was
your
choice, and you ate those waffles like they were the best thing you’d ever put in—”

“No, it wasn’t your disastrous date-planning skills.”

“Huh. Is it because I tried to steal date night away from Target? I’ll apologize, but I won’t give it back.”

I bit down on my lip to keep from smiling, and he took a step toward me, his hands going to my hips. His tone was serious when he said, “If this is about the age thing—”

“It’s not—”

“But if it were—”

“Really, that has nothing—”

“Shh,” he said, putting his finger up to my lips. Then he crossed his heart. “If it did, then I solemnly swear never to tell you to get Botox before you’re forty.”

I broke away from his hold and punched him good and hard on the arm, and he laughed.
 

“Sorry, I meant fifty. Fifty-five?”

“Asshole,” I said, shaking my head. “The answer is at
least
sixty-five, thank you very much. You’re lucky I don’t call your parents to come pick you up for causing trouble and harassing your elders.”

“I asked permission before I came.”

I snorted. “Do you ask permission every time you
come
?”
 

When his jaw dropped, I held up my hand and said, “Never mind.” Then I flicked off my computer, grabbed my purse and jacket, and headed for the exit as he followed on my heels. I’d just have to come in early tomorrow to finish the column.

“No, hey, I like this,” he said. “Turning the conversation towards the bedroom. I can deal with that.”
 

Before I could reach for the handle, he moved in front of it. “That’s not what I was doing. It just came out.”

“Happens sometimes.” Nate gave me a lopsided grin, and I rubbed my forehead.

“You don’t stop, do you?”

“That happens sometimes too.”

“Ugh.” My head fell back and I growled in frustration.
 

Why was this guy here to torture me and try to tear through my defenses? Whether I wanted him to or not wasn’t an issue, it was that I
couldn’t
. But how to explain that to a guy you wanted desperately to kiss you? And more. Much more than that.
Not giving in. Nope.
 

“What is it you want from me?” I asked. Though if the expression on his face was any indication, his mind was still on the
coming
part of the conversation.
 

“I want to spend time with you. Go on normal dates like a night at Arclight and then do cool shit like a Malibu Wine Safari. Take you to a decent restaurant. Go see a concert. Check out your underwear collection—you know, the usual things people do when they’re getting to know each other.”

Resist the dimples. Resist the dimples. And for God’s sake, don’t touch them.

“But…why?”

He looked at me then as if I had two heads. “What do you mean why? Why wouldn’t I?”

“I mean, I’m sure there are plenty of girls in your classes to go out with.”
 

“And you come across single men every day in this job. What’s your point?”

“My point is…” And then I blanked. It was like those damn greenish-brown eyes had some sort of hypnotic effect and had rendered me not only speechless, but brain dead as well. Awesome. “Uh. I had a point. I mean, I have one, but… Shit.”

Nate tilted my chin up. “I like you. Stop trying to change my mind.”