Jahleel (18 page)

Besides, talking to him felt good. And there he was, in my house, genuinely listening with his ears wide open. He was interested in me. In my life. In who I was. What I came from.

He wanted to know it all. He wanted more. And I gave him all he wanted, praying he’d ask for more than…details.

Feeling drained and exhausted, I stood up and stretched, “I better get to bed.”

I watched him as his gaze stayed locked on my bosom as I stretched. His eyes finally swept down my body and settled on my red socks. He couldn’t stop a smile as he brought his eyes back up to my face and found me watching him.

“Not ready to go yet,” he declared. “Why don’t we watch a movie or something?”

Bloody frustrated at this point, I planted a hand to my hip and used the other to gesture between us. “What the hell is this, JK? Tell me. Are you still trying to figure out if I’m what you’re craving?”

Recognizing I was on to his game, he looked away, his jaw working back and forth. He looked back to me and answered honestly, “Yes.”

Getting up from the barstool, he approached me and reached out his arms as if to hug me or something, but he abruptly drew back and shoved his hands in his pockets, restraining himself I assumed.

“Look, I’m leavin’ tomorrow for a couple of days,” he sounded frustrated with himself. “Concert in Vancouver, video shoot in Chicago. And I just… I just don’t want the same thing that happened in New York to happen again. Need to stay focused on my work, if you understand.”

“Oh, so you’re just here to get your platonic Saskia fix, then, yeah?” I caustically bit out. “Because God forbid your mind should stray and think about
me
while you’re working.”

His lips compressed, trying to conceal a smile, while I glowered at him, daring him to laugh, because if he did, I would be sorely tempted to knock him upside the head. That’s how intolerable it all was at the moment.

“It doesn’t make sense to you, Sassy,” he explicated, “but it does to me.”

With a resigning sigh, I dropped my eyes down to our feet, red socks to Timberlands. “You’re selfish, JK. You want and you want, but you don’t want to give.”

“I know I am.” He moved in closer, but didn’t touch me. “You’re not, though.”

You’re hurting me
, I wanted to say. But I didn’t, of course, because I was a coward. Afraid to lose something I didn’t even have.

“You fancy a fuck?”

He took a surprised breath. “Sassy, I told you—”

“I know, I know,” I responded through a loud laugh as I turned and started out of the kitchen. “I guess we can hang in the movie room, then.”

We jaunted down to the movie room in silence. How long could this platonic thing go on before I lost my blasted mind, I wasn’t sure. How on God’s good earth could he expect a woman to be alright with no intimacy when he looked like…
that
? He had cockiness abound, so I was sure he knew the effect he had on women. Downright ridiculous and a tease, that’s what he was being.

My movie room was in dark grey with blood-red carpeting and five rows of extremely large semi-circular black couches. We opted for the middle row and I began scrolling through pay-per-views while Jahleel toed off his boots.

“How about
Ratatouille
?”

Jahleel paused his doings to shoot me a look. “Fuck no.”

Shrugging, I resumed scrolling until his boots were off and he was on the couch.

“Stop. That one.
The
Green Hornet
.”

I scrunched up my face. “Nuh uh. I tried watching that crap once and couldn’t even make it to the end. Those two are idiots.”

He laughed and I resumed scrolling.

“This!” I chirped. “
Alice in Wonderland
with Johnny Depp.”

It was now his turn to make a face. “Seriously?”

With a roll of my eyes, I continued scrolling and whispered under my breath, “Off with your head”.

Jahleel chuckled. “Heard that.”

As I scrolled past the movie
300,
he stopped me again, “Never got around to seeing that one.”

“They are mortal punks in briefs and capes. What’s the point of having a cape if you have no super powers and can’t fly?” I murmured without even bothering to stop. “
Despicable Me 2
,” I said, selecting the cartoon. “I’ve never seen part 2.”

“Okay, this isn’t workin’ out. At all,” Jahleel griped. He leaned over and snagged the remote from me. “You go for mediocre shit, aka
cartoons
, and I’m into action movies. So, let’s find somethin’ in between. Deal?”

As if I could ever disagree with anything he says, I nodded.

We ended up agreeing on
Transformers 3
. We both had seen
1
and
2
, but never got around to seeing
3
. So it was perfect.

Drawing my knees up to my chest, I clasped my hands and stuffed them between my thighs to focus on the screen and keep from attacking Jahleel.

The night before, when I’d touched his face, he’d pulled my hand away and let me know that was considered intimate touching. So without being sure what exactly was allowed with him, I thought it better to keep my hands to myself. But it was oh so frustrating, because all I wanted was to jump him and kiss his lips off his face.

I could feel him staring at me, but I pretended to be engrossed in the movie.

“Come here,” he said after a while.

Slowly turning my head, I looked at him with a blank expression. Bringing his feet up on the couch, he shifted so his back was against the handle and stretched out his arms to me.

He wanted me to crawl between his thighs, lie on his chest, and cuddle…

Don’t go
, the sensible part of me warned. But the stupid part of me went, laying my head on his hard, but warm and cozy chest.

Loosely circling his arms around me, a clear sign he was making no commitments or promises, he whispered, “Comfortable now?”

“Quite.”

But what was shocking to my ears, was the warhorse speed at which his heartbeat galloped, contending with the wild, erratic beats of mine. This man, who was supposed to be the master of calm, composed and casual.

“Why’s your heart beating so fast?”

I felt his shoulders move in a shrug, as if it was nothing. “Dunno. It always beat like that when I’m around you.”

And with those words, my heartbeat out-ran his, hurling my breathing into the frenetic zone.

Seizing a fistful of my hair, he gently tipped back my head so he could peer down at my face. “Breathe, Sassy, breathe.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You can’t say things like that to me and expect me to be all calm, cool and collected like you.”

Tilting his head to the side, his expression became one of sincere confusion. “What? You asked me a question and all I did was answer.”

“You could’ve lied!”—He either didn’t get it, or he was purposely playing dumb.—”You could’ve said it was the side effects of drinking too much energy drink or…something. Anything but
that
!”

Jahleel bit his lip and studied me for a beat, no doubt thinking I was loony. “Sassy, you don’t wanna hear the truth, don’t ask me. ‘Cause I will give it to you straight.”

Expelling a huff, I resignedly dropped my head back down to his chest.

As he sighed and curved his right leg over my left leg, I glanced down at our tangled legs and noticed for the first time that he was wearing red socks.

“You’re wearing red socks too,” I pointed out the obvious.

“The only colour socks I wear.”

Extraneously, I stated, “Red’s your favourite colour.”

“You’re observant.” I heard the smile in his voice. “What’s yours?”

“Black.”

“Black’s a shade.”

“Thanks for the bloody correction, Professor Stinking Kingston,” I snapped. There was nothing I hated more than being corrected.

“You know,” he opined, humour lacing his tone, “you can be a real bitch sometimes.”

“Says the biggest arsehole I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

“Hey now,” he dragged out with a lazy laugh, “No one’s ever seen
me
do the WWE Suck It slam in public.”

I punched his arm. “Put a sock in it.”

“That was
epic
.”

I pinched his steel-muscled bicep this time. “I said,
shut up
.”

“Ow,” he groaned, rubbing the aggravated area. “Now you’re being abusive.”

Feeling too relaxed and snugly to argue, I gave him the last say, and we both turned our attention back to the movie. But I wasn’t really watching, because I found listening to the tattoo of Jahleel’s heartbeat far more entertaining than giant robots on the big screen.

Before I knew it, I was fast asleep.

Chapter Eleven

T
he weekend found me in the back of a limo with my team, giggly sluts included. We were headed to the grand opening of ‘Nth’, Chad’s new club.

Chad booked me through Lion to make an appearance at the opening, even though he could’ve simply
asked
me to be there. I guess he was approaching things from a professional angle, as I was merely one of numerous celebrities scheduled to attend.

The intent for ‘Nth’ was to make it the next best celebrity hot spot in San Francisco. Lion divulged to me all of who was on the guest list, so there was no doubt ‘Nth’ would succeed in its objective.

At first, I wondered how it was possible for a man with no status to have such a tall celebrity guest list for a simple club opening. Surely, it couldn’t just be because he was a fine specimen.

Well, I later learned Chad
does
have a status, one I hadn’t been aware of. The chap was wealthier than a lot of the celebrities who would be there.

When I posed said question to Lion, he looked at me as if I were a numbskull, then gave me a quick bio of Chad.

Age twenty-nine, the name was Chadrick Ivanovich Niiveux, as in the car brand Niiveux.

You know how you almost never see a TV commercial for some vehicles—like, let’s say, Rolls Royce—but when you
do
see a commercial, it’s more like an intense mini movie rather than a commercial, which is usually aired during the Super Bowl or one of those grand events when the whole world is watching?

Well, Niiveux falls under that category: the type of car where its worth was known and therefore didn’t need commercials and marketing—’whenever you can afford one of these bad boys, just come and get one.’

Niiveux was governed by three brothers, one being Chad’s father, the other two his uncles. Stemming from Niiveux were two other brands: Velocity, which was a line of sports cars, and Prominent, a variety of affordable models.

Niiveux originated from Russia, so yes, Chad’s part-Russian, his mother’s American. Being the only son, Chad was heir to his father’s shares and also a trust-fund baby. He had two sisters, Sveta, who’s a world-class runway model, and Tashenka, a normal trophy wife to some oil tycoon.

He and his famous model sister were the only two Niiveuxs residing in the U.S. Sveta, because of her career, and Chad, because of some older woman he was infatuated with in his new adult years and followed her to the States. He never bothered moving back home when she left him. He now remained because of his new friend JK, and because of his preference for the low key lifestyle in SF, compared to his previous high profile status as the most eligible bachelor sensation in Russia.

Here, in SF, he was a quiet investor, sticking all ten fingers in untold organisations, and also co-owner—with his ‘ride-or-die’ Jahleel—of a chain of high-end strip clubs spanning from here to L.A.

Although he aimed for a low key, nondescript life as much as possible, people who mattered still knew who he was, enough that his celebrity guest-list for his club opening was extensive.

That was as much as Lion told me, but I had the feeling he was holding back a lot more. There wasn’t anything or anyone Lion didn’t have the dish on.

Speaking of, I hadn’t heard from Jahleel since our movie night on Tuesday. I woke up the next morning in the movie room, curled up on the couch alone. Jahleel was gone, no word, nothing.