Wide Open (5 page)

KURTIS

May 2nd

Digital Dye Studios

Los Angeles, CA

There are days when I’m glad my grandma is dead.

Today is one of those days.

She was the only parent I ever knew, picking up the slack for a father that never saw me and a mother that ran away when I was six months old. I called my grandma ‘mom’ until I was ten. That’s when she told me the truth. It didn’t matter at that point. She was a mom to me and that was all I needed to know.

She was a hard-ass and a devout Catholic. We went to Mass without fail and if I cursed in the house I had better be cursing the Devil or I was grounded with extra chores. She’s the reason I cut loose in college like I did. Why I raced cars. Why I gambled. Why I drank like a fish and fucked like there was no tomorrow.

She’s also the reason I’m still alive. Even when I was breaking every rule she put down in front of me, she was that voice in my mind that warned me when I was going too far.

I can still hear her, even today.
Especially
today.

They want to take pictures of you in your underwear? What for?

Is this pornography, Kurtis James?

I always knew that pretty face would get you into trouble.

She had no idea how right she was. Then again, she knew both my parents. She knew what stock I came from. Maybe she knew more than I gave her credit for.

“These things are riding up my ass,” I murmur to Hollis.

He snickers, his eyes focused straight ahead to where they’re prepping the photo shoot. It’s a black iron bed frame on a white backdrop. White sheets. White pillows. All of it made to contrast with the black underwear making a journey between my mountains into Mordor.

“Don’t pull at them,” Hollis warns me. “These people will flip.”

“I can’t pull at them. They glued them to my body.”

“Then how are they riding up?”

I snort. “Isn’t that the fucking mystery?”

“Maybe they’re supposed to be that way.”

“God, I hope not. They’re giving me crates of these as part of the deal. People think I’m an asshole now, wait until they see what happens when I’m wearing uncomfortable underwear for the rest of my life.”

“People think you’re mysterious, not an asshole.”

“Yeah, well, people are idiots,” I mutter.

“Now
that
sounds like an asshole.”

“Tweet it for me, would you?”

Hollis’ face is stern. “Not a chance. I’m never logging into your social media again.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“The number of naked photos you get is staggering. A proctologist at a free clinic doesn’t see that much ass in a day.”

I grin at him sideways. “Then he needs to up his game.”

He chuckles distractedly, checking his phone for the third time in five minutes.

“What’s up with you?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. It’s bad enough that I’m standing in my underwear waiting to get this thing going, but it’s also freezing in here. My nipples could cut glass and my dick has probably shrunken to the size of a breakfast sausage.

Hollis stows his phone. “I, uh… I did a bad thing.”

“I doubt that.”

“You’ll agree with me here in a minute.”

My eyes narrow at him. “What’d you do?”

“I have good reasons,” he tells me cryptically, keeping his eyes forward. “But you’re still not going to like it.”

“Cut the drama, man. What did you do?”

“I gave the documentary crew the all clear to film this photo shoot. They’re on their way up now.”

It must be colder in here than I realized because my body is frozen. Every muscle, every nerve; they’re locked down tight. Tighter. Tighter still until I feel physical pain in my core that flows like lava through my veins, burning and thawing me from the inside.

“Why would you do that?” I ask him quietly.

“Because you need the publicity,” he answers unapologetically. “You need more endorsements like this, and building your brand is how we get them. It’s the only way we’ll get clear of the debt.”

I look around the room nervously. No one is listening. Still, I warn him, “Keep your voice down.”

“Don’t be angry at me,” he fires back. “I’m trying to help you and you know this is how we get it done. You’ve known it since I got you back on the Kodiaks. You can finally stop nickel and diming it and put a real dent in what you owe. You could even start saving something for the future. Isn’t that what we’re doing here? Rebuilding your life?”

I roll my tongue inside my mouth, relieving the tension that’s growing inside me. He’s right. We planned all of this at the start of last year. The day I landed back in L.A. he started fishing for endorsements, and when this CK campaign came up it was like a dream and a nightmare all rolled into one. It’s something I’m loath to do, but it’s everything I need.

When you’re staring down the barrel of an eight million dollar deficit, a two point five million dollar paycheck is a pretty convincing reason to let a stranger glue overpriced cotton to your ass cheeks.

“I’m not angry at you,” I tell Hollis grudgingly. “You’re right. This is what has to happen. You’re just doing your job.”

“And I’m being your friend, Kurtis. Try to remember that.”

I shift on my feet, running my hand over my mouth. “Yeah. I will.”

Hollis’ phone vibrates in his pocket. He clicks his tongue thoughtfully when he sees the name on the screen. “It’s Sloane. I’ve gotta take this. You’re good right? You’re not a flight risk?”

I open my arms, reminding him what I’m wearing. “Where am I going in this?”

“A bachelorette party? You’d make bank.”

“And where are they going to stuff the dollar bills? I’m literally one with my underwear.”

He chuckles as he answers his phone, crossing the loft to the tall windows on the other side.

When he’s gone I feel more exposed than ever. More naked without him to talk to. I think about heading back to the screen they set up for me to change behind but the wardrobe crew is there and I don’t want them fussing over me again. I barely got away with my balls still attached the first time. Apparently they don’t ‘sit prettily’ in these briefs. There was talk about taping them before I escaped.

A door creaks open on the other side of the loft. I glance over my shoulder, and I’m not surprised to find a camera coming in. The man carrying it is tall and stout, dressed in cargo shorts and a worn out gray T-shirt. The guy coming in behind him is shorter and a little leaner. He’s dressed almost identically with a boom mic resting against one shoulder and a big black utility bag hanging heavily from the other. Bringing up the rear with a smaller bag on her shoulder and a notebook under her arm is Harper White.

I shouldn’t be surprised to see her. I know she’s part of the crew, but my blood floods my chest when her eyes meet mine; impossibly warm and clever. They take my bare body in in an instant, processing my situation, my mood, my musculature all in quick order. And that’s the problem with her. That’s the reason I can’t get too near her, no matter how badly I want to.

She sees too damn much.

“Hello again,” she says, her voice light and amused.

“Hey.”

“Sorry we’re late. We had another interview that ran long.”

“Tyus?”

She pauses, acknowledging my suspicion. “No. Avery. We haven’t had a chance to speak to Anthony yet. He’s hard to pin down.”

I smirk. “He’s dodging you, isn’t he?”

“It definitely feels like it,” she says with an easy grin, slowly closing the distance between us. Her team has huddled on the floor to unload equipment from their bags. They don’t look up as she leaves them. “When they told me you weren’t available today I thought for sure you were dodging me too.”

I watch her as she moves toward me, looking her over the way she examined me. She’s casual today; faded jeans and an open plaid shirt rolled up at the sleeves. The white tank top underneath hugs her body, spanning the flat of her stomach and stretching over the roll of her breasts. She looked beautiful the night of the Draft, but today she’s something else. She’s the girl I met in the office. Sexy in an easy kind of way that makes me painfully aware of the thin material of my underwear. The rising of my blood.

“I would have,” I confirm without remorse. “If it wasn’t this, I would have been busy with something else.”

“You’re going to make this hard for me, aren’t you?”

“I’m definitely going to try.”

“And here I was thinking this job would be boring.”

“You’re not a football fan?”

“I like college football. I’ve never been big on the NFL.”

“Who’s your team?”

“Cal.”

“Is that where you went to school?”

“I graduated their school of journalism, yeah. Where did you go to school?”

“Florida State. What made you want to be a journalist?”

Her eyes tighten at the corners, narrowing me in their view. “I like a good story, same as everybody else, but I like them better when they’re true.”

“Even if they’re ugly?”

“No story is ugly. Some are just more honest than others.”

“What kin—“

“Is this a thing that you do?” she interrupts me. “You ask question after question to keep people from asking you anything?”

I laugh shortly, surprised to be caught, but not the least bit surprised that it was by her. “It’s effective, isn’t it?”

“Stop it.”

“Is it annoying?”

She chuckles. “And you said that
I
can’t manage a casual conversation.”

“Is this conversation supposed to be casual?”

“You’re definitely dressed for casual.”

“Want to join me?”

“Are you asking me to get naked with you?”

“Are you considering it?”

“Are you picturing it?”

I falter in my rapid fire questioning because yes, I am. I’m picturing her naked on that bed, the room emptied of everyone else and the day stretching out in front of us with no cameras and no questions. No answers. Only hours and minutes and sweat soaked seconds that feel like forever.

Harper’s face is serious and soft when she tells me, “You’re a mystery solved in silences, Kurtis Matthews. It’s not what you say, is it? It’s what you
don’t
say.”

My heart hits hard in my chest, thumping aggressively against my rib cage like a wild thing. She smiles knowingly at my silence. She doesn’t fill it. She doesn’t even address it. She lets it unfurl between us, long and lingering, and I feel that vulnerability again. The nakedness I felt when Hollis left me standing alone in the crowded room. There’s nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. I’m trapped in this moment, in her eyes, and she’s seeing me.

And like an idiot, I let her.

Like a fool, I can’t stop.

“I’m not as sinister as you think,” she promises, reading my mind.

“I don’t think you’re sinister.”

“You don’t trust me. You think I’m dangerous.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” I tell her quietly, stepping in close to her. So close I can smell her. I can feel her. Her mouth opens as she stares up at me, surprise in her eyes. Desire on her breath that I can taste on my tongue. “I think you’re smart. You’re driven and powerful. I think you’re sexy as hell and you’re not even trying, but what would it be like if you did? How absolutely and completely fucked would I be if you tried?”

She shakes her head, her eyes fast on mine. “I don’t want to fuck you,” she breathes.

“Don’t you?”

Our words are twisting. We’re losing track of what we’re saying, watching it dissolve between us, morphing into what we’re thinking. What we’re feeling.

Harper swallows her answer. I watch her long neck constrict under her skin, and I have to try very hard not to touch it. Not to press my mouth against it and feel her pulse, her life, under my lips. It’d be electric, I know it. Like kissing a live wire. It’d set me off, send me somewhere wild. Somewhere I haven’t been in years.

“Don’t you, Harper?” I repeat calmly, my heart racing in my chest. I lean closer, putting my hand on her hip, pressing my mouth to her ear. Her body stiffens when I touch her, but she doesn’t pull away. I whisper wet against her skin, “Because I do. I want to fuck you. I have since the day I met you and the feeling is only getting worse. It gets stronger every time I see you. It’s killing me right now. Do you feel it?”

I feel physical pain when she breathlessly whispers, “Yes.”

“I want you take every last inch of me, every breath I’ve got, every secret I have until I’m empty, and I’m gonna hate you for it. I’ll hate us both, and still I’ll do it, over and over again. I won’t be able to stop.” I pause, closing my eyes against the image that’s blazing through my brain. I take a steadying breath, my fingers flexing against her hip. “Is that what you want?”