Wild Temptation (32 page)

“D
ill, have you ever wanted something you know is really bad for you?”

He laughs, his whole body shaking, and lifts his pint. “Every day, darlin’!”

I smile, taking the five-dollar bill from his outstretched hand. “Not like that. I mean, something that could really change your life. Tip-it-upside-down kinda change.”

“Getting philosophical?” Donny slides onto the stool next to him. “Be a doll and get me a beer, Liv.”

I shoot him an annoyed look. “Aren’t you supposed to be
working,
boss?”

“I’m taking a break.” He smiles at me charmingly. “And my beer?”

Chewing the inside of my lip, I grab a bottle of Bud from the fridge, uncap it, and put it in front of him. “Two ninety please.”

“Are you joking?”

“No. You just put the prices up, and it’ll be my ass you chew out later when the stock and books don’t add up.”

Donny smirks and digs out a ten-dollar bill. He throws it on the bar with, “There. Put me another one in and keep the change.”

I flip him the bird. Boss or not, be an asshole, I’ll treat you like one.

Old Dill shakes his head. “What do you mean, wanted something you know is bad for you? We’re not talking beer so I’m not following.”

I sigh and lean my hip against the bar. “Okay. So, there’s this guy—”

“The one who was in here the other week?” Donny asks.

I nod. “He’s the best man at my best friend’s wedding this summer. Anyway, we’ve been spending time together. Kind of forced, kind of not. But I know he’s not good for me.”

“So dump him.” Dill shrugs.

“Really? That’s your solve-all answer? ‘Dump him’?”

“Carry on.”

“I like him. Like, I think I really like him. He’s just not good for me…emotionally.” I nibble the skin on the side of my thumb. “What do you do when you want someone and they want you but you know they’re the absolute worst thing for you?”

Both men stare at me like I’ve grown two heads. Their gazes soon turn contemplative. How do I know? They’re both gazing into their beers like that’s exactly where they’ll find their answer.

When they don’t respond after a moment, I serve someone else at the end of the bar.

“I guess the only thing you can do is to walk away. If they’re really that bad for you, you have no reason to stay,” Donny finally says.

“And if walking away would hurt as much as staying?”

Dill sips his pint. “Then you’re fucked either way, darlin’. You gotta pick the one with the happiest ending.”

“But I don’t know which one that is.”

“Then you have to guess and hope you get it right.”

Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.

I walk out of my agent’s office with a spring in my step. Kind of. I even give Clara a smile. So it’s little bitchy, but it was nicer than the I-wish-you-were-six-feet-under glare she gave me.

Whatever.

But there’s a spring in my step and the sun is shining. It’s, like, thirty degrees, but the sun is still there.

When Sheila called me in right away, telling me that there was big news, I nearly crapped my pants.

What? Victoria Secret? Did they want me? Oh my god. Was this it?

Of course, I totally forgot about the Balfour shoot—and my bra, but that’s another story. They’ve selected five models to go to California tomorrow to test shoot actually on the beach. They’re being kind of picky, but I get it. It’s their first big headline campaign.

And it could be me.

But I’m not thinking of that because, as of right now, I still have to work when I’m supposed to be shooting. Nothing a quick trip in to Donny can’t fix.

I head in the direction of the bar, my happiness and excited mixing with nerves when I think he’ll say that he can’t give me the time off. Because that’s a total possibility. He could say no, despite his promise to be flexible.

This is short notice though. Really, really fucking short notice.

He’s behind the bar when I walk in and give him a sheepish smile.

“What have you done?”

“I’m coming to beg.” I bite the inside of my lip. “I’ve been called for a shoot and need some time off.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow.” I wince as I say the words.

He stops stocking the mini bottles of cranberry juice and slowly turns to me. “Tomorrow?”

“It’s a third test shoot—the final one. I found out literally five minutes ago.”

He looks at me with his light-blue eyes. “Where is it?”

“California.”

“How long?”

“Three days.”

“Go on. I can cover you.”

“Really?” I squeal the word. “You will?”

“I promised you I’d be flexible. But hey, you tell these guys, big-shot company or no, if they want to hire you, I need at least seven days’ notice so I don’t have to bust my ass while one of my pretty barmaids runs out on me.”

I laugh and lean over the bar to kiss his cheek. “You’re a star, Donny. Thank you so much!”

I run out of the bar as quickly as I entered and head back toward my apartment to change. I don’t think my best friend will be impressed if I turn up to meet her for lunch in sweatpants.

No, scratch that. I know she won’t be impressed.

My phone rings just as I get into my apartment. “Hello?”

“Hey, look, I can’t make lunch. I’m so sorry.” Day’s voice travels down the phone. “My dress designer wants to video chat.”

“Oh. Okay. No worries.”
Damn.
I tell her about being called back for the shoot. She squeals. I squeal. We both laugh.

“What are you going to do now?”

“Keep my sweatpants on.” I snort. “You’re lucky you caught me just before I pulled out a pair of jeans.”

“Lazy bitch. Why don’t you go and make things up with Tyler?”

“Because I have nothing to make up. I’m not the one who got all stick-up-my-ass. I might have pushed it a little, but he was a real fucking prick to me.”

“Sounds about right.” She sighs. “Liv, I don’t even know why he left teaching, okay? Aaron won’t tell me. Says it’s not his business to tell.”

“I don’t care, okay? It just pisses me off that he calls me out on crap he does himself.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not gonna get past that unless you talk.”

“Talking would imply that we’re having a relationship.” I dump my keys on the table.

“You’re still there, huh?”

“We haven’t told each other how we feel…if he even feels anything. And we certainly haven’t put it out there whether or not we want a relationship. Which I don’t. He is not a good person for me.”

“You should have worried about that before you let him fuck you a second time.”

“I should have worried about that when I decided to fuck him without knowing his name,” I snap. “It’s my fault and I get it. I just don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do about it. I want him but I don’t, and I hate him but I don’t.”

She’s silent. I run my fingers through my hair while I wait for her response.

“You’re addicted to him, aren’t you?” Her voice is small and not like it was earlier.

“Yes. And he knows. He just doesn’t know how badly I am.” I screw my eyes shut. I won’t cry. I won’t.

I will.

“Then you have to stand up right now and make a choice. You put an end to it now and move on, or you take a risk and see it through. You can’t keep lingering in that bullshit ‘are we, aren’t we?’ limbo you have been in. Both of you deserve more than that.”

“I know.” I sniff and swipe under my eyes. “It’s been, like, twenty-four hours since I walked out and…I miss him.”

“Ever thought that what you’re feeling isn’t addiction?”

“What are you saying?”

“Have you considered that you might be falling for him?”

I shake my head, although it’s only to myself. “No. I know the difference. I know my addiction. I’m very much in lust with Tyler, but I’m not in love with him. I don’t know him to love him.”

“Sometimes you don’t need to know someone to love them. There’s nothing about love that makes sense.”

“Love and addiction aren’t one and the same, Day. I crave him, but not in the way you crave Aaron. “

She sighs heavily. “Okay, well, whatever you feel, you have to deal with it. Talk to him, one way or the other. I have to go.”

“Okay. I hope your chat goes well.”

“Thanks. Oh, and Liv? Put on a bra if you go out.”

My lips twitch and I hang up.

Talk to Tyler. I don’t want to talk to Tyler. But then, I don’t want to not talk to him. So I’m in a complete clusterfuck, really.

Do I want a relationship with him? Not right now, but I could in the future… That’s not fair to him—to lead him on with a maybe. So he hasn’t admitted himself that he wants anything more than we have despite endless hints, but I can’t guarantee I’ll want more.

What if I change my mind soon though? Like, next-week soon. Then, I could regret not holding on to it.

“What am I supposed to do?” I stare at Angus. He lifts his head and slowly opens his eyes. He doesn’t seem bothered by my predicament at all.

Fine. I’ll remember that next time he’s begging for a fourth meal. Grumpy little shit.

I walk into my room and change—making sure to put on a bra—and stare at my front door. I could walk through it. I could stand here. I could…

I could shut the fuck up about thinking and actually do something.

I take a deep breath, and instead of thinking, I start doing.

Of course he’s not here. I mean, why would he be? It’s completely irrational to imagine for just one second that he might be at his apartment at noon on a Tuesday.

I close my eyes and lean my forehead against his door with a sigh. So much for my moment of bravado coming over here. That’ll never happen again.

My phone buzzes in my jeans pocket. I grab it out and put it to my ear without looking. “Hello?”

“Liv? Where are you?”

I stand up straight at Tyler’s voice. “Um…I’m at your apartment. Well, outside it, actually. Waiting. Wait. That sounds creepy.”

“No creepier than me standing outside your apartment, banging your door down to talk to you. Your downstairs neighbor? The old lady? She’s evil.”

Mrs. Rowen. Yup. She’s no joy. “You’re at my apartment? Why are you at my apartment?”

“Why are you at mine?”

“I enjoy the view from the window next to the elevator?”

He laughs quietly. “Okay, Ms. Stubborn, Flighty Bitch. Stay there. I’m coming home.”

He hangs up. I stare at my phone, blinking hard.

Is he at my apartment to talk to me while I’m at his to talk to him?

Why do I get the sudden feeling that Dayton doesn’t really have an appointment with her dress designer?

I think we’ve been set up. And I think she knew exactly how it would go.

Sneaky little fucker.

I press send. She instantly sends back a winking face. Just a fucking winking face.

I’m trying to work this out in my head. Why would she send us both to the other’s apartment? Unless she thought I wouldn’t go anywhere because, okay, I am kind of stubborn. That would make sense. And I kinda screwed that plan up by doing the opposite of what she thought.