Inner Core: (Stark, #2) (9 page)

“Let’s put it this way. She claimed there had been several calls from my stuck-up fuckers for neighbors that hinted I was managing an escort service.”

“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing, gorgeous, albeit a nonprofit one?” I cut him off, unable to stop myself.

“Hales is right,” Tasha interjects. “You were managing a small bordello there, in which, my friend, you acted both as madam and service provider.” Collectively, we giggle.

Ian frowns at our spiteful comments. “I’m glad you ladies find the time to make fun of me while Rome is burning!” At Ian’s hammy statement we both roll into fits of laughter. Ian waves us off and takes on a naughty side-smile to resume his dramatic saga of events.

“Bottom line, she gave me til tomorrow to clear out and find another place, and frankly, beloved ladies, I don’t think I can Hail Mary my ass out of this one.”

It takes less than a second for Tasha and Ian to exchange meaningful glances, which end with both of them shifting to look at me pointedly.

“What?” I demand, furrowing my brows. And when they continue looking at me, now with puppy eyes, I start to shake my head. “Oh, no. Oh, no way!”

How convenient. Kick Hayley out
.

“It was just a matter of time, gorgeous. We all know that.” Ian’s voice is a rare mixture between encouragement and plea.

Well, Daniel did ask me twice already to move in. This is not a secret. And it will just be a temporary solution to help my misbehaving man-whore of a beloved friend in his hour of need. But no, too soon, I can’t. This would be playing with fire, and my last wish is to get burned again where Daniel is concerned. The suffering afterwards will be the end of me this time.

“Hales, like I’ve mentioned before, as much as I hate the idea of you not being around, I guess it is the only feasible, ad-hoc solution given the very limited timeframe.” Tasha looks at me sternly for a short while; her lips mellow into a curve as she continues. “Anyhow, it’s not like we're exiling you to penal labor in Siberia. You’d be moving in with your hot, crazy for you boyfriend with whom you’ll be able to hook up twenty-four-seven in your little Seacliff love nest.”

I shake my head disapprovingly; to myself I admit that, for a temporary solution, this is way too appealing.

“Guys, can’t you see how soon this is? This has clusterfuck written all over it…” I fold my arms on my chest, adding visual reinforcement to the point I am trying to get across. “‘Soon’ being the key word here,” I murmur. They watch me, and before further discussion takes place, we are distracted by Ian’s chiming phone. His shoulders drop and his expression mutates to something between irritation and melancholy. We exchange puzzled looks and turn to observe him, concerned.

“Sir…” he answers.

To that Tasha and I mouth in union “his father.” I twist my mouth and she wrinkles her nose, aware that no good will come of this call. Ian listens, his cheeks flush, and he starts striding toward the corridor, utterly riled up.

“Do you think he asked him to move back in?” I ask Tasha with dread. All of a sudden the realization of the gravity of the trouble Ian is in registers.

“Hales, seriously, I hope for the sake of this boy’s beaten heart that he didn’t.”

Her face mimics mine. We are both extremely worried for him now, all shreds of cynicism evaporated.

“I'm going after him,” I tell her quietly and she nods in encouragement. My poor Ian; he doesn’t show it, but he is much more fragile than he lets himself appear to be, especially when his family is concerned. I follow him to my room where he sits with the door wide open.

Friendly banter aside, he deserves an honest, reasonable explanation for my rejection of the idea; he needs to understand the reasons behind my stubbornness with the issue, and that I am not just being a major bitch.

“You of all people don’t get to talk to me about proper conduct, family and values, Dad.”

I cringe at the disdain in his voice as he sneers the word 'dad'. “When was the last time you honored your wedding vows, huh?” he growls, and then listens, perched at the edge of my bed. When he spots me he gestures for me to come in, his gaze fuming. He's already seen me. I am at a point of no return, so I just get in and sit at the end of the bed with my heart going out to him. I know too well the long and ugly history of Ian and his father since the day Ian came out of the closet, which was at a relatively mature age. I shudder inside. He threw away his comfortable life, knowingly giving up an obscene trust fund, to stand for what he believed in. That day, I was awe struck and as proud as I had ever been of anyone.

“I don’t want to be lied to. I want to be loved for who I am, not just for appearances.” He exhales in frustration. I observe his handsome features recoil, turning agonized and betrayed.

“You know, if you'd just looked past your prejudices you might see that what’s inside of me is not as awful as you think.” Ian heaves out a loud breath. “It's time you set bias and ignorance aside and see your one and only child for who he really is, and not the shameful sinner you made him out to be. You might even tolerate what you find.” 

Tears prick at the back of my eyes hearing his words, that are coated with such a painfully dejected tone. I swallow hard over the lump forming in my throat. I should be strong for him, if not his family. We will be his rock.

How can this man deny and hurt his own child, especially a beautiful child like Ian?
Absurd as it is, I think Ian’s father is one of the only people I know who doesn’t find Ian special. Ian is the kindest, most admirable human being I’ve met in my entire life. I just feel like grabbing the phone from his hand and giving that father of his an elaborate, uncensored piece of my mind
.

I keep staring at Ian’s clouded expression as he continues to listen, his body rigid, guarded.
S
omewhat drained, he replies,
“
Then, as always, I can rest assured that you’ll never fail to disappoint me. I can't even rely on my own parents.”

Deep recognition exhale of a defeated acceptance of a broken child concludes the call. And I know, sure as I’ve never been before, that I will shortly pack my bags and let Ian take my place in the apartment. Throwing the phone on the bed, he turns to look at me with a blend of coyness, fragility and despair. His eyes are a set of perfect emerald—so beautiful, just like the soul they mirror.

My personal shaman needs healing.

“Gorgeous.”
You really are
. I want to scream from the top of my lungs, if possible at his father’s blocked ears.

He rewards me with an exhausted smile, then rubs his hands over his face.

I wait for him to look back at me, then say, “I’m going to pack now, and you'll stay here as long as you need.”

“Hales, you don’t have to do that on account of the delight you’ve just heard.”

“I don’t have to, I know.” I hold his stare, trying to convey my determination. “I want to.” I emphasize every word. “Besides, how can I really resist twenty-four hour access to my amazing boyfriend?” I try to lighten his mood; I don’t want to make him feel worse than he already does. His lips quirk just enough to form a thin shadow of a smile.

“Hey, we both know you would do the same for me.” I nudge his shoulder and beam at him.

He looks at me sincerely and says, “I would give up my room for you for hooking up twenty four seven with Daniel without even batting an eye.” His naughtiness finally reappears.

“Now, that’s something I do not share,” I scold him, feigning a frown.

“So, Maldives,” I add, knowing it’ll raise his spirits even more. His full megawatt grin comes back.

“You betcha.” He slams a kiss on my mouth and hugs me tightly.

After the momentary cheerfulness, as though remembering his conversation from a few minutes ago, solemnness veils his face and he wraps his arm around my shoulder.

Resting the side of his head against mine he says, “You know Hales, we go from childhood to maturity being preached at about how family is the most important thing in life. But I say screw that, it depends on which family.  For me it's sure not the family I was born into...it’s us. You, me, and Tasha.” I look at him with a thin, warm smile. “Sometimes you guys are just too much, so much that I end up almost strangling you, and then there are times when you just rock my world, and I can’t even begin to say how much I love you. And no matter what, I know I can rely on you guys and that you'll love me, no questions asked, any fucking time.” My answer of assurance and agreement is a kiss on his cheek and a tight hug that shows love, protectiveness and empathy.

“Temporary,”  I declare in the most intimidating voice I can muster as we get back to the living room and deliver the news to Tasha. They both smirk at me and Ian turns to hug me, saying, “You know what they say, temporary is the new permanent.”

“Hilarious,” I reply, although more cheerfully than I intended for it to come out. After checking the time we all go to my room and begin packing two large suitcases with Placebo singing in the background.

“Hey, this song is totally about me,” says Ian.

Tasha and I both tilt our head to look his way.

“Special needs, you know…” He grins.

Our eye roll comes in unison. Tasha throws a pillow at him and we resume the task at hand.

I text Ian after I get in the car before I start driving to Daniel's.

I promise I will always love u, even when you forget to love yourself

Ian: I know. LUV U immensely

I hardly manage to take another breath before a new message comes in.

Ian: Now, let’s quit this sentimental shit, nuff for one day, or a decade ;)

I shake my head and giggle. As I fumble with the iPod a thought about the suitcases in the trunk crosses my mind and a twist forms in my stomach. Buds of doubt start tainting my thoughts.
I hope this doesn't turn out to be a major mistake…

Chapter 9: Three Wishes

“I'm here.” I drop the suitcases in my hands onto the sandstone threshold; Daniel studies me with his head cocked as he leans on the doorjamb, sporting casual jeans and a T-shirt as ever steamy. “You are left with two more wishes.” I beam and his expression evolves from absorbed to delight, realizing the meaning of the suitcases I’ve brought with me. His crooked smile is effervescent.

“Oh baby, you're my three wishes combined.” He grabs me and lifts me into the deepest hug, repeatedly planting kisses on my broad smile, and I giggle.

“It's just a temporary solution,” I declare before briefly filling him in about Ian. I explain how Ian divorced his morals long ago, and that finally the promiscuousness he got custody for came back with vengeance.

Daniel shrugs and shakes his head at the tale. He bends to pick up the suitcases, entirely smug, looking at me over his shoulder. He raises an eyebrow while a naughty smile plays on his lips, strands of hair falling to almost cover his eye. “You know what they say: temporary is the new permanent.”

I roll my eyes
. What is it about my men? Have they all been designed from the same blueprint?

He approaches me with the suitcases still in hand, and enthusiastically plants kisses on my mouth, so eagerly that his tongue almost reaches my throat. I slide my hands to his back packets and gladly absorb his assault.

“Temporary,” I repeat, following him back to the kitchen after he had set my suitcases in the bedroom.

“You know, baby, denial really agrees with you. Go ahead and keep on wearing it if it works for you.” He smiles, an annoying, conceited, sexy grin.

I take a deep breath and wrinkle my nose.

“Ready to have dinner? We should celebrate.” 

“Sure. What are we celebrating?” Disregarding my question, he scans me head to toe and then grabs a black sweatshirt that rests on one of the kitchen stools.

“Hands up,” he commands in a wry, magesterial tone. As I obey he shrugs his oversized shirt over my pale pink chiffon blouse. I need to roll up the sleeves for my hands to show. “So you won't be cold.” He answers an unspoken question. My lips arch warmly at the gesture. With a thin, secretive, askew smile he takes my hand and leads me to the patio.

I follow, fairly agitated by curiosity laced with anxiety.

And before I can actually ask, the display spread before me makes my breath catch. He really went all out this time.
What in the name of god are we really celebrating?

Cream colored gothic candles adorned with asymmetric stalactites of wax are scattered around the deck and pool. There is a table set for two covered with a crisp white cloth sporting a massive bronze candelabra as the centerpiece. Flames flicker softly from the candelabra, which is surrounded by an assortment of sushi. Snow Patrol singing one of their most intense, soul melting songs gives the scene its final touch. Daniel leads us, and I study his unreadable face from the side, following him with a thudding heart. He pulls back a chair for me.
There is a certain flicker in his eyes that tells me he might be a bit nervous.

By now I'm actually starting to panic, my mind railing at the thought of what he might have in mind, at the reason we're about to “celebrate”.

“Hold on,” he says in a low voice before I sit down. I gaze up at him feeling a flush of apprehension hovering over my cheeks. His eyes slowly caress my face til they rest heatedly on my lips.

I am a second away from losing it
.

And then he kisses me.

It's mind-blowing: without inhibition, possessing my soul with the connection, leaving me physically unbalanced and lapsing mentally. Noticing my brief loss of balance, he holds me for a few moments next to his chest, til he senses I am capable of holding my own.

Wow, this kiss.
This one kiss should be safely guarded in a locked chest so it can remind me of what lust is when I’m old enough to forget. I am utterly breathtaken
.

“We nailed it, baby. The deal is mine. This is totally the big leagues now. All that’s left is to sign the official papers.” His eyes brighten with excitement.