The Price of Love (A Price Novel Book 1) (2 page)

*****

The next morning, I woke to find myself alone in the apartment. Slayde had left his blanket neatly folded and stacked with his pillow at the end of the couch. I sure hoped he had slept well. I immediately felt guilty at the thought of taking over his space, but I got over it quickly enough by deciding to turn that energy into something more constructive: fixing the problem of sharing that space. I needed to email my sister. Hopefully she would have a good solution to my little debacle. Throughout most of her life, she had been pretty good at getting herself out of mess after mess without stopping to take note that maybe she was the real mess, so this should be easy breezy for her.

I noticed Slayde had left me a note on the counter.

Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,

As if,
I thought.

I hope you slept well. I don’t know if you have any plans for the day, but I will be back around lunchtime and free for the rest of the day. So if you’re bored, let’s grab a bite, and I will take you sightseeing. If you have other plans, that’s cool, and I will just see you later. I left you a key on the counter, and if you need to use my computer, the password is PASSWORD.

“How original,” I said aloud.

Please make yourself at home, and feel free to help yourself to anything in the fridge or cabinets.

Mi casa es su casa!

— S

He had said, “Make yourself at home,” so I did just that. I emailed my sister, made myself some toast, and turned on the TV. I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, Slayde was back, and he was tickling my face with my hair. “Get up, lazybones. You didn’t come here to sleep. You came here to see this beautiful city,” he said in a terrible French accent, which made me laugh.

I took the fastest shower I’d ever taken and partway through realized that I was actually really excited. I wasn’t sure if I was excited to see Paris or excited to spend the day with Slayde.
No, it definitely can’t be that.
Besides the fact that he was way out of my league — and two years younger than me — he was also my little sister’s ex-boyfriend. Regardless of the fact that she had cheated on him, there was still a code to uphold. Even if she was a bitch.

The day was absolutely perfect. It was just what I thought a day in Paris would be like. We went to the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, and some of the street markets. It was the most beautiful city I had ever seen. The buildings were all on top of one another, but they looked neat and clean. The streets were narrow but filled with people shopping in the open markets or eating out on the sidewalks. I began to understand why Kenedy never came home. This city was amazing.

When it started to get dark, Slayde said he thought we should stop and grab something to eat, which he insisted he pay for. He sat me down at a table at a sidewalk café. When he got up to pull out his wallet, I stopped him.

“Look, you’re very generous. I’ve had a great time with you and all, but I can’t let you feed, shelter, and entertain me. I really appreciate everything you’ve done, but I emailed Kenedy, and hopefully I will be out of your hair soon.” He furrowed his brow and crossed his arms while I rambled on. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit me. I feel bad making you put your life on hold. I will go back to the apartment and call it a day, and you can go do whatever it is you usually do. You really don’t have to entertain me.” For some reason, I felt like I was going to cry. Maybe I was just exhausted. Maybe I didn’t mean one word of what I was saying and I was crossing my fingers he wanted to hang out some more.

“Well, smarty-pants, this is what I would be doing: spending the day with a friend. But if I’m cramping your style, I will leave and let you get to whatever it is you had planned to do when you got here. But I will not let you pay for your food when you’re with me. That would just be rude. If my mother ever got wind of that, I’d be in serious trouble.” He laid some money on the table, kissed my cheek, and walked away with a look of defeat on his face.

That was something I had never seen on Slayde Price. Come to think of it, I didn’t recall ever seeing Slayde when he wasn’t smiling. Even in school, when I passed him in the hall, he was always walking and talking with friends like everyone else, but he always wore that beautiful smile. Now I thought I had hurt his feelings, and I felt really bad.

As I walked back to his building, I thought I should get him something, a peace offering of some sort. Maybe some wine.
What if he doesn’t drink wine? He was kind of a jock in high school, so maybe I should get beer — but what type of beer?
I finally decided I was getting the wine, and if he wanted some, great. If not, I would drink it. With that decision out of the way, I bought several bottles of wine and went back to his apartment.

The apartment was dark. Slayde hadn’t come back yet. I wondered where he had gone. Probably to his girlfriend’s. I didn’t know for sure that he had one, but I imagined he had to. Surely there were several hundred women in this building alone that would have died to go out with him. He had told me the building was a coed living facility for the models signed by his agency, so surely at least one woman here was good enough for him.

Now that the potential girlfriend had crossed my mind, I decided it was probably not such a great idea for him to have offered me a place to stay without consulting her. Surely his supermodel girlfriend wouldn’t want him sharing living space with some girl from back home. But since he did see me as a friend, just a friend, and since I was not some exotic beauty like his hypothetical girlfriend, she might not even care.

I poured myself some wine and got in the tub. I wasn’t even wrinkly yet when I heard Slayde come home. He didn’t say anything, but I could hear him turn on the TV and get something out of the refrigerator. He must have been watching a ball game, because I heard him yelling at the TV. I usually thought it was obnoxious when guys did that, but it was kind of cute when he did it.

I told myself I had to snap out of it. There would never be anything between Slayde Price and me, other than maybe a friendship. I had to go in there, apologize for hurting his feelings, check my email, and then go to bed. I would stay out of his way. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and swore to myself that no matter what he said or did, I was not going to look at him like he was the most beautiful thing on earth. Not that I would ever do that. I could contain my thoughts and control myself.
This will be fine. I can handle this.

Or so I thought. I wasn’t prepared to see him sitting there without a shirt on. He didn’t look like he did in high school anymore — that was for sure. Now his body looked like it was chiseled out of stone. He was beyond beautiful.
Where did this guy come from?
It was like his DNA was altered to perfection. It wasn’t even fair for anyone to look that way. I was losing my mind. I had to stop drooling all over him like a fool with my mouth wide open.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, startling me.

“Oh, nothing.”

“You came back.”

“What?” I asked. I wasn’t even really sure what he said. All I was thinking about was running my hand down his chest. What the hell was wrong with me?

“You came back. I thought I was already getting on your nerves and that you were going to go stay in a hotel or something,” he said.

“Getting on my nerves? Why would you think you were getting on my nerves? I’m having a great time with you, but I feel like I’m in your way.”
There, I managed to say something intelligible. Whew!

“Are you crazy? You’re not in my way. Look, I don’t feel obligated to spend time with you or offer you a place to stay. I did that because I wanted to. I genuinely want you here. I’m not fake, Arden. I always say what I think, and I never do anything that I don’t want to do. The sooner we get that straight, the better off we’ll be,” he said and flashed me that crooked little smile.
I am so screwed!

After we finished off a bottle of wine, we decided to go sit out on his tiny balcony and watch the people in the street below. I think we both had a good little buzz going.

“At ten o’clock, if you look over there, you will see an awesome fireworks display,” he said, pointing out into the night sky.

“What’s so special about ten o’clock? Why not midnight?”

“I don’t know. I just know it happens at ten o’clock.” He smiled at me.

“Do you always bring girls out on your balcony to watch the fireworks? Is that your thing?”
What in the hell am I saying? Shut up!
I silently screamed at the crazy person in my head.

He laughed. “No! I mean, it’s my thing, as in mine alone, but no, I don’t bring girls out here to watch the fireworks.” He laughed again. I started to tell myself,
He has to think I’m an idiot,
but that thought left my mind when he grabbed my hand and laced his fingers through mine. “So, what are you doing here? I mean, what did you do with yourself after you graduated?” he asked. My heart was racing. I could barely breathe. What was I doing here? Was that what he had asked me?

I could barely think with him holding my hand, much less concentrate on answering him.
This is ridiculous. He’s just a guy. That’s all. I’ve been around guys.
Why I was getting so nervous around this one was beyond me.

After a few awkward seconds, I finally answered him. “I’m still in med school, and I haven’t taken a break since I started as a freshman in college. With all the extra credits I took over the last eight years, I was actually able to work in a summer break this year. Actually, my advisor suggested it. I will go back and do a few weeks of research before the fall semester, but I do think a break was exactly what I needed. Since Kenedy was here, it seemed like the perfect opportunity.”

“What kind of doctor are you going to be?”

“A surgeon. Right now, I’m just thinking general surgery, but I’m really interested in neurosurgery too.” He looked kind of blank. “What about you?”

“Me? Well, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just here to get the hell out of LA for a while. Or maybe I’m just here to piss off my dad.” He let go of my hand and folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t really know. The opportunity presented itself, and I took it.”

“So, you aren’t going to college when this is over? Are you only here modeling? Or are you taking any college classes?” I knew Kenedy had made such a huge deal of getting to study abroad while following her dream of modeling, but I suspected she was not taking her academics that seriously.

“I took some classes the first two years I was here, but I’m not taking any right now. I don’t know about going to school later. I was offered baseball scholarships from three SEC schools, but I’m sick of living my life for my dad. I love him and all, and I appreciate everything he does for me and the opportunities that he gives me, but I just don’t want his life. He was gone all the time. My mom was always following him around the country, and that’s no way to have a normal life. That’s all I want — a normal life.”

“A normal life?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “You call this a normal life? Most kids dream their whole lives of playing baseball for a college team or going to study abroad. This, my dear, is not a normal life.”

“I guess you’re right.” He laughed. “I guess you’re right.” And he put his arm around my waist.

My whole body stiffened. My stomach was doing somersaults, and I had goose bumps on my arms. He was being a little touchy-feely. Not in a perverted kind of way, but in a cute, flirtatious kind of way. I didn’t know what he was doing, and I didn’t think he did either. Maybe it was the wine.
Hell, maybe I needed more wine.
I slipped out of his arm and went back to the kitchen for a refill.

I heard him behind me, and when I turned around to see what he was doing, he took the glass out of my hand and placed it on the counter. He put his right hand on the small of my back, and pulled me closer to him, looking into my eyes. I wasn’t sure what he was doing at first. Then he leaned down and gave me a soft, sweet kiss. It took me a whole second to process this, but I don’t think he noticed, because he just pulled me closer and deepened his kiss. I was definitely in shock. My legs felt like they might fail me, and I wasn’t sure I had breathed at all since he first touched me. My head just kept repeating over and over,
Slayde Price is kissing me!

After what was without doubt the most perfect kiss of my life, I looked down and shyly said, “Good night.” And went off to bed. The thought of that kiss kept butterflies in my stomach all night. Good thing I drank all that wine; the butterflies eventually got tipsy and passed out too.

*****

I woke the next morning to the smell of something cooking. I was starving, and the smell of bacon and something buttery and sweet made my mouth water. I jumped out of bed, threw on some shorts, and went out to find Slayde cooking. “What in the world are you doing?” I asked him.

He looked up with the most innocent smile. “Cooking banana pancakes. Aren’t they your favorite? I hope I didn’t wake you.”

OK, that creeped me out a little. How did he know banana pancakes were my favorite? My own mother didn’t pay enough attention to me to know that. I mean, really, it was kind of weird. “No, you didn’t wake me, but how did you know that banana pancakes were my favorite?” I sat down to a huge plate of pancakes, which I wouldn’t be able to eat in a week’s time, much less in one sitting. But they sure did smell good.

“You told me.”

“When? Last night?”
I must have drunk more than I thought. What else did I tell him?

“No, not last night. One night at my parents’ house. Remember, we were all in the pool late one night, talking about all kinds of random stuff, and you said banana pancakes were your favorite food. So when I woke up and decided to cook, I thought I’d make you banana pancakes.” He smiled again.

I couldn’t believe he remembered that night, or me being there. Much less what my favorite food was. “That’s one heck of a memory. I don’t remember telling you that. So what was Kenedy’s favorite food? I know she used to stay over at your parents’ a bunch. What did you cook for her?”
Did I really just compare myself to a long-time girlfriend?