One Night with Calvin (One Night Series Book 2) (7 page)

The last thing I saw was his confused expression before I shut the door in his face.

Extreme? Maybe. But first Ryan, and now Danny? Tilting my head towards the roof, I let out a quiet whisper. “What are you doing to me, universe?” I wondered if it was fate overcompensating for all those times I told Paige I was jealous of her and Cole.
Then again, look where they are now.

Danny knocked again. “Sara?”

“Totes not answering that,” I yelled.

“Sara, please? We need to talk.”

I opened the door and scowled at him. “If it’s to tell me you have an STD and you’re doing the responsible thing and telling everyone you’ve slept with, then fine. Thanks for the heads up, I’ll be sure to go and get tested. Other than that, I can’t fathom why you’d be here after two years of radio silence.” I actually already got tested after he left. It was possible I had an overreaction to being dumped without so much as a goodbye, and we’d been impulsive during our two-week romp—sometimes using condoms, sometimes not. I may have had a mini panic attack and demanded my doctor do a screening for every STD known to man.

Danny laughed as he ran his hand through his hair. “No STDs. Promise. And if I recall correctly, you’re the one who shut me out on Facebook.”

I grunted. “Then I think we’re done here.” I went to shut the door, but his foot stopped it from closing.

“I’m home for the US summer break. I’ve got two months to get you to let me in.” He removed his foot from the doorway and left. 

When I stumbled back to the couch, still in shock, I sat on top of my now ringing phone.

“Uh … yeah?” I said, without checking who it was.

“I was just checking up on you.” Hunter’s sexy voice filled my ears, bringing me out of my daze. “You didn’t reply. Thought there might’ve been a serial killer at the door or something. Maybe you need me to come protect you.”

I laughed a silent, breathy laugh. “Nah, it was no one.”

“No one?”

“Yeah, no one. Thanks for checking up on me, though. But I should go …”

His voice dropped an octave. “You really think that’s the reason I called? I’ve been texting for four days and finally got a response. The mystery person at your door was just an excuse for me to hit dial.”

“Umm … Uh …”

“How’s Paige doing?”

I was thankful he asked something I could respond to. “She’s coming to classes, which is good, even if she’s been wearing the same sweats for the last three days.”

“I bet she’s not smelling too good.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s showering in deodorant. Or maybe baby wipes. She still smells like herself.”

“Like strawberry and vanilla? I swear Cole’s room still smells like her. I get a whiff of Paige every time I walk past.”

“How’s he handling it?”

He hesitated before answering. “He’s sober. That’s something.”

“Paige gave the impression his drinking wasn’t a problem?”

“It’s … uh … complicated. Anyway, I’m glad she’s hanging in there. There’s always been something about her. It’s going to sound totally lame, but I was drawn to her the moment I met her. I should totally be Team Cole, right? But I can’t help thinking about how sucky this is for Paige and that she deserves better.”

An inexplicable burn started in the pit of my belly. I recognised it as jealousy—something I’d only ever experienced once before; seeing Ryan suck face with that blonde skank the night after we met.

No, she wasn’t the skank, he was. And encouraging him by replying to his texts had made me forget all about that fact for a fraction of a second. I had to stop what I was doing.

“I gotta go,” I said abruptly and hung up the phone.

7

- HUNTER -

The good news: Sara was totally jealous, which meant I had a chance.

The bad news: She took what I said about Paige completely wrong.

When Paige came stumbling out of Cole’s room one morning almost two months ago, I knew she was different. There was this pull about her that made me offer her a cup of coffee instead of showing her the door like all of Cole’s other conquests. Perhaps it was the fact she was a fumbling mess—that it was obvious she didn’t do the one-night stand thing often. In our two-minute conversation, I knew she wasn’t like the other girls coming and going from our apartment.

I felt like an asshole because I thought I had a crush on Paige for all of five minutes before I realised I wanted her to be with Cole. He needed someone like her. I figured I was drawn to her because I wanted Cole to have something go right in his life for once. When she brought Sara back to me, I began to wonder if I was drawn to her for other reasons: kismet, fate.

I wanted to call Sara back and explain all that, but I knew that wouldn’t be smart. She would think I was insane. It took four days to get a response to any of my messages, and with one phone call, I was pretty sure it’d be another four days before she responded again, if at all. This couldn’t be rushed. I had to be patient, which meant I had to learn to have patience. Waiting for something I wanted wasn’t exactly my strong suit—not when I had everything practically handed to me since I was a kid. If I wanted something, I went for it, and I got it. And right now, all I could think about was Sara.

It was probably a good thing I had a busy schedule over the following two weeks with Sydney Fashion Week. I’d have something else to focus all my energy on. I hated leaving Cole alone—especially with the Paige situation still fresh—but I couldn’t blow off work. Being under contract, unless I was dying or had a broken leg, I had to be on that runway. Personally, I preferred print to runway, but the exposure of Fashion Week was always too good to pass up.

I was so close to my goal. There was a reason I had a roommate in a small, cheapish apartment. I was saving for my future. Well, that, and Cole couldn’t afford much on his salary. He refused to let me pay more than half the rent, which was why we chose the cheapest three-bedroom, two-bathroom place we could find. It wasn’t much, but we both liked it there.

Pulling up the latest update email from my management team on my phone, I double-checked my flight details for the following day.

Yup, two weeks where I couldn’t be tempted into showing up on Sara’s doorstep was exactly what I needed.

***

My brother, Garrett, picked me up at the airport. He’d been living in Sydney for a year. He moved from Queensland because of a promotion with his marketing firm, but he didn’t take into account that living expenses in Sydney were so much higher than where we were from. So he pulled up in his piece of crap Nissan Pulsar that was over fifteen years old.

“Hey, little brother,” he said when I climbed into his passenger seat.

“Thought you were buying a new car? I seriously can’t believe this one made it down to Sydney, let alone lasted another year.” As the words left my mouth, the whole car shuddered.

“Shh, you’ll hurt Whore’s feelings.” He rubbed the dashboard in a soothing manner.

“Whore?”

“Yeah, coz I treat her like a hooker. I drive her hard and fast.”

I shook my head. “That’s horrible.”

“Nah, it’s an awesome name for a car. It’s good for yelling out things like, ‘Fucking Whore, don’t stop now!’”

I snorted. “Wow. I have not missed you at all, bro.”

He grinned. “Liar. We hitting the city tonight, or what?”

“It’s probably not a good idea. I need to be at work at eight in the morning.”

“So we’ll go out early, come home early, and you can kick the girls out on your way to work. Perfect.”

“Nah-uh, no pussy for me tonight.”

“It’s finally happened. You got the clap, didn’t you?”

“No. I’m just not interested in a hook-up.”

His brow furrowed. “Who the fuck are you and where is my brother?”

I laughed. “Maybe I’m growing up?”

“Nope. That can’t be it.”

“Can you just drive, please?”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

I threw my head back on the headrest. “You remember four years ago when I picked you up from the drunk tank?”

“Which time?”

“Good point, but I’m talking about the night I got my tattoo.”

“Ah, and the girl with the magical vagina,” he taunted.

Fuck, was I really that much of an asshole back then?
“Yeah. Well, I ran into her again, and I’m determined to not fuck it up this time.”

He groaned and pulled out into traffic. “And another one bites the dust.”

“Huh?”

“I’m like one of the last single guys I know.”

“Move back and hang out with my friends. We’re all single … well, Cole’s divorced but that still counts. Then again, we’re also four years younger than you. Maybe you really should start thinking about settling down.”

“Fuck you, you sound like Mum.” After that, he finally shut up.

Speaking of my friends made me remember to text Spence to get him to check in on Cole while I was gone. I was sure Cole wouldn’t appreciate it, but I wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to fall off the wagon.

Hunter:

Can u check on C while I’m in Sydney?

Spencer:

Can’t, bro. Busy. Maybe ask Blair.

Hunter:

WTF u busy with?

Spencer:

Stuff ok. Besides, it’s not a good idea for me to see Cole. GTG have fun in Syd

Hunter:

Y would it be a bad idea?

He didn’t respond. I had no idea what he was talking about. Maybe they had a fight and hadn’t told me.

“So you and this girl … is it serious?” Garrett asked, distracting me from trying to work out what was up with Spence.

“She hasn’t even agreed to go out with me yet.”

He laughed. “But you just said—”

“Turns out she didn’t blow me off four years ago like we thought. She did, however, see me with another girl the next night. So I’m not going to do anything to piss her off more than she’s already pissed at me. If she’s going to give me a chance, I have to make her trust me.”

“That sounds like a lot of work for some pussy. I don’t care how magical it is.”

I wanted to tell him that she was so much more than that, but he wouldn’t understand. “What can I say, I like a challenge.”

“I give it two months of celibacy before you break.”

I give it two months before I’m back inside Sara.
I didn’t say that aloud. Knowing Garrett, he’d want to turn it into an actual bet.

***

I’d forgotten how crazy Fashion Week was and how much partying went on. Most nights I found myself sitting in the corner at the events, checking my phone to see if Sara had responded to any of my texts. She didn’t reply when I complained that Sydney was cold. She didn’t reply a few days later when I joked about her getting her hopes up that I’d forgotten her seeing as I hadn’t messaged in a while. And each time I sent a new one, I’d cringe at myself. No one had ever made me work so hard for attention, and I was worried I was blurring that line between charming and annoying. But I couldn’t help myself.

“Who are you texting?” Georgie asked, sitting next to me on a plush couch in the corner of a nightclub. She was the designer who’d hired me for this gig. She wasn’t a known name yet, but according to my management, she was the next Alex Perry … but the chick version. And for menswear, not women’s fashion … okay, so she was the next opposite of Alex Perry. “Your boyfriend?”

I laughed at her assumption. It happened to me a lot. “Nope. Don’t have one of those.” I wasn’t going to set her straight—no pun intended. It didn’t matter to me whether she thought I was gay or not.

She pushed her thick-rimmed glasses up her nose after they’d slid down her face. She was pretty cute in an artsy-girl kind of way. Her cropped blonde hair was in waves and sat just below her chin, and she had those pouty lips that any girl would kill for and any guy would want on them. But I wasn’t interested.

“Is that why you’re sitting in the corner by yourself? Because you
don’t
have a boyfriend? Want me to play wingman? I have to keep my models happy.”

I shook my head with a smile. “If you must know, I’m sitting here because the
girl
I have a thing for is ignoring me.”

She pulled back, aghast. “I’m so sorry. I just assumed. You’re so …”

I waited for her to finish because I was interested in which offensive stereotypical label she was going to slap on me, but she didn’t end up finishing her sentence.

“It’s all good.” I waved her off. “I guess you went with the safe bet in this industry.”

She smiled. “Is the girl back home?”

“Yeah.”

“So live a little. I shouldn’t be encouraging you to drink seeing as you have to walk my runway tomorrow, but a few won’t hurt. You’re all used to walking hungover anyway, right?” She lifted her hand to get one of the waitress’s attention.

“Yeah, we’re pros at walking in a straight line while drunk. It’s a prerequisite,” I said sarcastically.

“What’ll you have?” the waitress asked.

Georgie waited for me to answer.

“Scotch ‘n’ Coke.”

“I’ll have a house wine,” Georgie said. The waitress walked off and then Georgie turned on her side to face me straight on. “Okay, tell me about her.”

Talking about her wasn’t going to make me feel better. “I kinda just want a distraction from it all.”

She nodded.

“Are you ready for tomorrow? Your first big show,” I asked. There were fittings and rehearsals over the last week, but tomorrow was the big day. For her and me anyway. I had another show later in the week with another designer. It was common for models to double-book big shows.

She recycled my words. “I just want a distraction from it all.”

Our drinks arrived, so I held up my glass. “To distraction.”

We clinked our drinks together, drank them down, and then headed to the bar for more. And more.

I cut myself off at five, knowing if I had any more, I’d be screwed for the runway the next day, but Georgie kept throwing them back.

There was dancing, yelling, selfies, and then hours later, I found myself dragging her back to her hotel because she was too drunk to walk. When we got into the elevator, she put her head on my shoulder and let out a loud breath. She may’ve even fallen asleep for a second.

“You going to be all good for tomorrow?” I asked her as she fumbled opening her hotel room.

“Yup. No sweat,” she slurred. “You coming in?” she asked, turning to face me and stumbling a few feet backwards into her room.

How I ended up babysitting my designer, I wasn’t entirely sure, and even though I knew it was a bad idea and I should’ve walked away, I took the three short steps across the threshold and into her hotel room.