Crazy for You Page 9

  “Woman,” he grumbled, “Are you trying to kill me?”

  She shrugged, liking, no . . . loving the turn in their conversation. “I dunno. Maybe.”

  “I would love nothing more than to stay in with you. But I’m a big donor and have a speech to give tonight. Once I’ve said my bit, we can leave. Does that work?”

  Everything sounded good to her. But she had to know, no . . . needed to know it wouldn’t be another night of hanging out with a friend. “What are your plans when we get back?”

  “Don’t you worry, angel. I have a lot of plans for you. Exhausting plans. Naughty plans. Plans I don’t want to say out loud, or I will take you over there.” He pointed to the couch. “And you’ll know the real reason behind my name Jake the Great.”

  “So . . . so you wouldn’t say this to just any woman, right?” She licked her lips. “You wouldn’t just say that to a friend?”

  “Yes, we’re friends. But we can be more than friends if you’ll let me.”

  Should I? The man had his own Tumblr account with shots of his body parts. He once took two women to the ESPY Awards. “You aren’t the relationship type. What changed?”

  He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I don’t know, maybe the diabetes scare. The way you were with my family. We have fun together and when the deal gets inked I don’t want this to end. I have to admit, I haven’t been in a monogamous relationship before, but it’s worth a shot.”

  “Worth a shot?” She folded her arms across her chest. “This isn’t some experiment when you test the limits of you being faithful. I’m not willing to be a try-to-keep-it-in-your-pants phase in your life.”

  Jake groaned and tilted his head to look at the ceiling. “Good grief, you’re a tough cookie to crack.”

  “I like you, Jacob. But I like me, more.”

  He lowered his head, his eyes met hers. “I like you more, too.” He gave her a look so hot, she was tempted to lock herself in the bathroom and turn the shower on cold. “I want to give this a real chance.”

  “No more fake relationship?”

  “We are very much real.” He smiled, much like a predator who finally claimed its prey. “Maybe tonight can be our first.”

  The satin clutch slipped from her fingers. Wild horses galloped in her chest. “First what?” she whispered.

  “Date.” He smiled, his grin devilish and eyes dancing with humor. “What did you think I meant?”

  She scrambled for her purse on the floor. “What you said.” She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing her mind was in the gutter. A place she was familiar with a lot these days, thanks to Jake. “What time is your speech?”

  “Eight thirty.” Grabbing her hand, he tugged her into the hallway. “I’ll see if I can push it up.”

  “Good.” She grinned and nearly slipped out of her shoes. Like Cinderella again, except this girl doesn’t have a curfew. Yes, she was definitely feeling up her prince. Tonight.

  • • •

  Jake was bored out of his ever-loving mind. He didn’t regret giving and volunteering his time, but he hated rubbing elbows with other famous people and eating overpriced, bland food at these charity galas.

  He had to admit that tonight’s event didn’t seem as pretentious as most. Other than the red carpet at the entry, the venue and decorations were minimal and welcoming. Instead of valuable paintings and sculptures in the lobby, life-sized pictures of children who benefited from the program were displayed. Next to each was a black-and-gold plaque explaining the child’s story.

  No time to spend with Charlotte as he’d been ushered into the gold-and-white-decorated ballroom by the event coordinator soon after arriving.

  The stick-thin woman with frizzy golden hair tapped her headset and nodded. “Yes, I’m speaking to him now.” She refocused her sharp, hazel eyes on him. “I was told you wanted to push up the speech, and I think we’ll be able to accommodate.”

  “Thank you,” he replied.

  Giving him a tight smile, she perused the schedule on her clipboard.

  He dutifully nodded his head as she read over the plan and talking points, taking note of the food station on the left side of the room. He focused back on the conversation and realized she was going over his speech. Again.

  Jeez. Do they think I’m an idiot?

  Clapping his hands together, he smiled. “I’ve got it, Sasha. I need to get back to my date.”

  His shy date was probably somewhere alone in the corner, overthinking what she should eat and drink. Or getting hit on by a celebrity. The woman was temptation in the flesh, and she didn’t even know it. He rushed back into the lobby, scouring the area for his lady in red.

  He shook his head, mentally kicking himself again for not taking Charlotte up on her offer to stay in. He was surprised she took the initiative, and it was damn sexy. He didn’t know what it was, but his Charlotte was getting more confident, and he loved a confident woman. Catching a glimpse of crimson, he finally found her.

  Lightly clasping her throat, she tossed her head back. A group of mostly men and a few women surrounded her: a couple of donors from Refurbished Dreams, one of the foundation’s board members, and a football player that made Jake seem like a boy scout. Donald fucking Grayson. The cocky football player had once tried to start a feud with him over a model they’d both dated. Jake hadn’t put up much of a fight over her, but he’d knock out a few teeth over Charlotte.

  Determined to get his girl, he quickened his pace. Well, he tried but was pulled aside by a teammate. Reggie had a heart of gold but was too damn talkative. Before the man could corner him into an hour-long conversation, Jake stretched his hand for a shake. “Hey man, let’s catch up later. I need to grab my woman.” He jerked his head toward the group.

  Reggie looked at Charlotte and then gave Jake a shit-eating grin. “No worries, man. It looks like Donald Grayson is trying to step to your girl.”

  The retired player was getting a little too familiar. If Grayson rubbed her shoulder one more damn time, he’d be leaving in a full body cast compliments of Jake the Great. Never mind he was an all-star defensive linebacker. I can take him.

  “Caviar, Mr. Ross? Mr. Lopez?” a young man in a white coat and black pants asked.

  “No,” they both answered, Jake a little more rudely.

  He pushed past the crowd and got stopped again. This time by a five-foot-eleven underwear model. Rafaela.

  “Jake Ross.” She rolled the R. He used to think that was sexy. Now he was unamused. Turning around, he focused on her sepia brown eyes, lined with determination and deception. Damn it! Rafaela was up to something. Nuh-uh. Not going there.

  “Jake, you naughty, naughty man. You’ve been avoiding me.”

  “Yes, I have.” Let’s cut through the bullshit. “I’m in a committed relationship now. I texted that to you over a month ago.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Well, I . . . I have much to discuss with you. Something important that you wouldn’t want your delicate little flower to know about.”

  He leaned in closer. “Let me get a few things straight with you. I am not that guy. I’m not going to fall into your trap. And you know what trap I mean.” He lowered his gaze to the juncture between her legs. “We had a good time, but now the good times are over. I’m with an amazing woman, and I don’t need you to fuck this up for me. Find another boy toy. I’m not the one.”

  “Hmm . . . Is that so, Mr. Jake the Great? Well, you certainly weren’t saying that last week when I took care of your needs because your little flower couldn’t.”

  A gasp from behind him sent chills across his spine. Double damn. Rafaela had timed it just right.

  He turned around. “Angel.” Her hurt expression burned through him. Those large brown eyes brimmed with tears, and her cupid bow’s mouth trembled. “This is not what it looks or sounds like.”

  “I knew it. I knew it. It was too good to be true. It always is,” Charlotte whispered.

  “No!” He grabbed an elbow, and hustled
her into a corner. “It’s not too good to be true. This is real. I’m real. Don’t believe the lies of someone you don’t know.” He leaned in and whispered, “You know me. Believe in me.”

  A few nearby conversations went quiet, but he didn’t care. He needed to get through the layers upon layers of insecurity. What happened to the confident woman he’d escorted from her apartment? She was somewhere in there, and she had to know that his past conquests didn’t compare to her.

  Sighing, she leaned into his chest. “We’ll keep our plans to leave after the speech, right?”

  The knot of tension in his chest unraveled. “Yes. Give me fifteen, twenty minutes tops, and we’ll blow this joint.”

  “Okay. Go on. I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Don’t worry. Do your thing, and we can get on with it later.” Her tone was fatalistic, as if she hadn’t believed a word he’d said.

  At least she’s willing to listen.

  “We’ll work it out.” He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she flinched.

  Damn.

  • • •

  Charlotte paced her apartment floor as Jake recounted the run-in with his ex. She wanted to believe him. She really, truly wanted to believe him, but a little voice inside her head wouldn’t let her get past it. If only she could’ve seen his reaction to what Rafaela had said and not his back. All Charlotte saw was the smug and confident smirk on the beautiful model’s face.

  “Don’t let her ruin this for us.” He sat, legs spread on her sofa. “We were finally on the same page.”

  “I want to believe you, but I—”

  “Then do it. Stop with this insecure bullshit!”

  She stopped her pacing, gripping the phone in her hand. “Insecure?”

  “Yes. Insecure. Since we’ve been together—yes, fake together, but together—I have been nothing but faithful and attentive to you.”

  Anger bubbled and boiled, but it wasn’t fluid and fiery. She was frozen in place. For once, she wanted to smack someone. “I am not insecure, and I didn’t say I didn’t believe you. But I want to be smart about it, too. I can’t tell you how many friends I’ve had to comfort because they put their trust in a guy that lied or cheated. We’ve been hanging out for all of a month. I’m not going to kiss your . . . your ass and give you a humanitarian award. You already got one tonight.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t believe me. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. What happened to us being best friends? What happened to us knowing so much about each other?”

  “Look, Jake. Whatever happened between you and that model, I know you are a decent guy. But you don’t exactly have a sterling rep with the ladies. How I am supposed to believe out of all the women you’ve been with you suddenly see something in me?” She pointed to her chest. “Something that makes you want to do . . . whatever it is we were going to do.”

  Twin buzzes from their phones caught their attention. Charlotte glanced at the screen.

  GINA: WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TONIGHT? TELL ME YOU AREN’T BACK WITH RAFAELA???

  She sighed. Jake’s agent had sent a group text. A link to an article was attached.

  “IS JAKE ROSS BACK AT IT AGAIN? SCORNED LOVER MAINTAINS SHE AND JAKE WERE TOGETHER LAST WEEK.”

  Thumb touching the screen, she was tempted to click the link.

  Jake scrubbed a hand over his face. “So what is it, Charlotte?” His voice was hoarse and tired. “Are you going to believe Rafaela, a woman who I barely remember spending time with, and a stupid article from a gossip blog, or me?”

  Sighing, she pressed the link and scrolled. Her breath caught when she saw Jake and Rafaela, coffee in hand and smiling together. Queasiness invaded her. Clutching her phone like a lifeline, she staggered to a wall for support. She’d had this feeling once before: in college and after four too many margaritas. The sick and gross feeling would only disappear with the soberness of time or a few dozen dry heaves in the toilet.

  “What’s it going to be?”

  “I need to think, Jake.” Her voice was soft. Can he could hear my sad attempt to speak over the hot, painful lump in my throat? “Please, give me time to process.”

  “Your answer is yes or no. Right here and now. You trust me, or you don’t.”

  “You aren’t going to force me into a decision. I need to think.”

  “No, you need to sulk and hide. Just like you did when we came back from Alabama. Just like you’re doing with your family.”

  “Jake, I’m telling you to please give me a day. Maybe two.”

  “So no is your answer.” He stood and walked towards the door. “Do me a favor, Charlotte . . . ”

  Damn, she never hated her name more than this moment.

  “When you’re all alone in your apartment—reading your comics because you’re too afraid of the world to live—think about why you love superheroes so much and why Wonder Woman is your favorite.”

  He cracked open the door.

  She was suffocating. She couldn’t breathe. Every word was a lash to her battered soul.

  “Wait, Jacob.” She lifted a hand. “Wait.”

  Gripping the door frame, he turned. “Yes?”

  “What about our . . . the deal?”

  “Fuck the deal.” Storming into the hallway, he slammed the door shut.

  She slid onto the floor, tilting her head against the wall. The framed poster of Wonder Woman taunted her, especially the words.

  “And remember that, in a world of ordinary mortals, you are a Wonder Woman.”

  Tears welled, and Wonder Woman became a mixture of blues and reds and whites.

  Chapter Eleven

  A gentleman and group of British ladies dressed in nineteenth-century corsets and bonnets kept Charlotte company.

  Too bad they were actors on TV in Jane Eyre.

  She squirted spray cheese into her mouth and then tossed in a cracker. Putting cheese on a cracker was too much work. “He’s a big fat liar, Jane. They all lie.”

  She angled the can again for another dose of cheesy goodness. A knock on the front door diverted her aim from her mouth to her cheek. Picking up the remote, she quickly muted the film, hoping the unexpected company would leave. Hopefully they hadn’t heard the movie.

  “I know you’re in there because you just turned off your television!” The endearing yet unwelcome female voice yelling from the other side of the door confirmed her fears.

  Melanie.

  “C’mon!” She knocked again. “I know you’re in there.”

  Charlotte dashed to the kitchen to grab a napkin. She wiped her cheek, then tugged an oversized shirt over her leggings.

  “Who is it?” Charlotte teased.

  “Your two favorite people in the whole wide world,” Melanie’s overly chirpy voice replied.

  And she brought her enforcer, Tiana. Charlotte sighed. Damien had noticed she wasn’t her usual self and told his wife. Great.

  “I wasn’t expecting company.”

  “We don’t care!” Tiana responded in the same sing-songy voice. “Now open up.”

  “Fine.” She unhooked the chain and twisted the lock open.

  Stepping back, she let her uninvited guests into her apartment. Tiana and Melanie rushed past her, each with a grocery bag in hand, and went straight to the kitchen.

  “Make yourself at home.”

  “Sarcasm doesn’t become you,” Melanie said, sliding the bag onto the counter.

  Charlotte massaged her forehead. “Sorry I’m such a grump. I guess Damien told you I wasn’t in the best mood.”

  “Yeah, he figured it was something between you and Jake. So, he harassed Jake, and I’m here to harass you. BTW, we saw some of that coverage between Jake and that model.”

  Rushing into the kitchen, Charlotte slammed her palms on the high-top counter. “He what?”

  “Correction,” Melanie said, smiling. “We harassed Jake. And now, imagine our surprise when we found out that our sweet little frien
d was the one to break it off.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Yeah, so sorry I didn’t believe he wasn’t secretly hooking up with a freaking supermodel.”

  Tiana shook her head. “No, she’s a regular model. Nothing super about her. And anyway, we aren’t here to choose sides, right, Mel?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She grumbled as she pulled out bottles. “Tonight, we are in woman solidarity. Tiana is going to whip up her world-famous nachos. You can do a salad version since you’re all healthy now.”

  “I can eat the nacho version.” Charlotte glanced at the nearly empty cheese can on the living room table. I’ve been eating everything that wasn’t nailed down anyway. Prediabetes be damned. Can they see the four-point-five pounds I’ve gained?

  “Good!” Melanie clapped her hands together. “And, of course, we have booze! Lots and lots of booze. Your fave . . . margaritas.” She waved at the sweet-and-sour mix, orange juice, and tequila. “We also have wine and ginny Ts.”

  “Ginny who?” Charlotte asked.

  Tiana rolled her eyes and opened up the ground turkey packet. “Gin and tonic.”

  “Now you get to choose the theme for tonight. Either Men Suck, RomCom, or straight-up romance, action, or a scary movie.”

  Flopping onto the recliner, Charlotte crossed her ankles. “No drama?”

  “Nah,” Mel replied, grabbing a few cocktail glasses from the cabinet. “We didn’t want to send you over the edge. So, what will it be?”

  “I was watching Jane Eyre until you two barged your way in.”

  Melanie nodded and said, “I could so do Jane Eyre.” Tiana, at the same time, shuddered and said, “Hell, no.”

  Melanie rolled her eyes at Tiana. “I bet if Jane were dressed like a freaking elf you’d like it. Weirdo.”

  Her Lord of the Rings obsessed friend shrugged. “Elves are awesome and magical. What’s not to love?”

  While her friends argued over movie preferences, Charlotte mentally reviewed her choices. Oddly enough, action movies reminded her of Jake, and she wasn’t in the mood for men bashing. She still wasn’t sure Jake had fake cheated on her yet. She wouldn’t mind a straight-up romance.