Rhys N o matter I’m stationedthe time orin thefrontday, of LAXthe exit, is a awaitingzoo. Keira’s arrival. I’m sure she’ll be beat when she gets here. I’ve been ke eping an eye on her arrival time all evening, so I knew she was delayed. The trip back home was rough sailing. She texted in Hong Kong, freaked out. Her flight d eparted late, causing her to miss her connecting flight. I cut to the chase by demanding she pass me to the airline attendant so I could buy her a new ticket. She was supposed to arrive at one o’clock this afternoon. It’s ten at night. Poor thing. The doors open and another wave of people pours out. I still don’t see her. I hope she comes out soon. She texted me when she landed on LA soil. That was an hour ago. Since she’s been out of the country for a while, I’m sure immigration must be a bitch. “Oh, Rhys!” A loud voice pierces through the high decibels of the crowd. My attention shifts to a tall salon-blonde wearing an inch thick of makeup, rushing towards me. Philomena Tartersault. She waves an animated hand over her head, while pulling a large suitcase behind her. She bumps into a few people without offering an apology in her determination. I do a double take. What the fuck? The tech content creator is wearing a ribbed white tank top and from the way her nipples are greeting me, it’s clear she forgot to wear a bra. Her skin-tight jeans reveal a camel toe I don’t care to see. She’s a beautiful woman, but in my opinion, her uncanny knowledge and the way she brings down tech-talk to an understandable level are sufficient. The artifice is unnecessary. “Philly,” I say as she approaches me. Without heels on, she’s a couple inches shorter to my six-foot-two. “Rhys.” She grins wide. I cringe. My name comes out sounding like Reeeeeeeese. She leans forwards to do that Euro air kiss thing on both cheeks. I’m awkward at it, but I oblige. Considering she’s from Oklahoma and she’s never set foot in Europe, it comes off as fake. I distance myself from her. “Did you come to pick me up?” She swats my chest. Her gaze rakes my body from head to toe. She was born with brown eyes, but thanks to contact lenses, today they’re green. The last time I saw her, they were blue. “I’m afraid not.” “Are you sure?” “I’m sure.” “Tsk.” She frowns. “Too bad.” “C’est la vie.” “You’re speaking French. I’m rubbing off you, aren’t I?” She doesn’t speak French. She likes to p epper her commentaries with voilà, y’all! “So, what’s new at SCORE? Any scoops?” “I’m just getting back into the swing of things.” She frowns again. “What do you mean?” “I got back three days ago from an extended business trip in Southeast Asia. Beckett was holding the fort while I was away.” “I just came back from a trip as well. New York,” she says. “Hence why you’re at the arrival gate.” “You’re so funny,” she says with a giggle. “My socials caught the attention of celebrity superstar and lifestyle maven Gail Voopowski.” “Who?” “She’s a big actress. She even won an Academy Award, a Golden Globe Award, and a Primetime Emmy Award. She’s so stunning and such a super smart businesswoman... a real boss lady... like
moi.” “Got it.” I nod. “Congratulations on catching her eye. Is Gail venturing into the tech business?” “No. On top of being the CEO of an incredible lifestyle-magazine-type website—voop. com—she’s venturing to greater heights. She has a new perfume that sold out in like a nanosecond, and she needs top content creators to spread the good word as she rolls out a new shipment. Thanks to my four-point-six—and counting—million subscribers, I was on the list. They’re looking for massive exposure and they’re willing to fork out the money.” Philly pulls out a small bottle from her handbag and sprays her body. The strong scent assaults my nostrils. I choke. Fuck, that stinks. “Oops,” Philly says. “I might’ve sprayed a little too much on.” “I’ll survive.” I hope. “What do you think? Do you like the scent?” Philomena is one of the leading tech and gadget content creators. Her socials have several million users. A shout out from Philly and you’re golden. And since Beckett and I are on her list of favorites, I weigh my words. “It’s hmmm... unusual. It’s hard to put into words.” Smooth. Well played, Hartford. She shoots me a sultry glance. “It’s a scent a player like you knows well.” She cocks an eyebrow. I frown my confusion. “I don’t follow,” I say. “I’m pretty sure you’ve had that particular scent... and taste on your lips more times than you can count.” Perhaps she had too much to drink on the plane. “We could be at this all night long. Why don’t you spell it out, Philly?” “It’s called ‘Eau de Vage’.” She closes the gap between us. “It translates to, pussy juices.” Not what I expected. “That’s quite the marketing hook.” “Trust me. It’s more than a hook... it’s a promise,” she says. “The scent is supposed to awaken a man’s primal feral nature.” You mean the primal need to run away? “I see.” “Is it working?” She puckers her lips into something I’m sure she thinks looks sexy. Too bad for her it has zero effect on me. I tread with caution. “There are so many scents competing for attention at an airport.” “You’re right.” She shoots me a come-hither look. “Let’s go out tomorrow night and let’s make sure the night ends at my place. It’ll give us a chance to put the theory to test. You, me, and a lot of ‘Eau de Vage’.” The blatant suggestion knocks me up the side of the head. I ponder on a suitable answer. One that won’t offend her. She ke eps talking. “I’ve been hinting at it for a while, Rhys... I hope the message is loud and clear this time around.” “Philly––” My eyes move over the eager her shoulder. A pair of tone, tanned legs approaching, catches my attention. Nice. My gaze travels up the woman’s body, taking in her sexy frayed jeans shorts and form-fitted black sleeveless tank top. Her face is devoid of any trace of makeup, and yet, she’s gorgeous— Whoa. The flecks of gold and green twinkling from her hazel-green eyes give her away. Keira? “Rhys?” Although she’s still standing right in front of me, Philly’s voice comes from a distance.
Keira waves, flashing me a brilliant smile. My heart jackknifes in my throat. I wave back. I take Keira in as she approaches, a huge grin stretching my lips. “Do you know her?” I’m aware Philly is annoyed, but I can’t find it in me to care. “If you’ll excuse me, my new roommate just arrived.” “You live with a woman?” Philly’s tone goes up several octaves. “I do now.” “Why did you lead me on?” Philly’s face is red with anger. My eyebrows hit my forehead. “Come again?” “I thought we were going out tomorrow night and ending the evening at my place to test ‘Eau de Vage’ and have sex. A lot of dirty sex.” She twists her lips. How delusional. “I never misled you,” I say. “You proposed dinner. I never agreed.” “Come on, Rhys, I’m offering you a chance to enjoy my vage.” God, I hate that word. “I don’t offer that to every guy... but you’re special... I like you,” she says in a raspy voice, batting her eyelashes at me. She even sticks out her chest as if to sweeten the pot. “My Saturday night is booked. I’m spending it with her.” I jerk my chin to a smiling Keira. “Have a great weekend, Philly.” “But I can show you a good time,” she says. She doesn’t know when to quit. “Let’s ke ep it professional.” Sorry doll, it’s a hard no for me. Philly’s eyes move to Keira. “You can’t be serious. She looks like a little girl.” I glare at her. “I wasn’t asking for your permission.” I walk away without giving Philly a chance to respond. With eager st eps, I stride to my best friend’s little sister. “Hey,” I say. “Hey.” She drops her bag to the floor, then she removes her baseball cap. My bewildered eyes travel up and down her petite form, unable to believe how different she looks from the last time I saw the five feet two inches fresh-faced girl standing in front of me. “You look... your body... your hair... your...” tits. That was some eloquent prose. I pause, searching for my next words because so far, I’ve done a shit job at stringing a cohesive sentence together. I manage to pull my eyes from her chest long enough to say, “Holy... Wow.” Spoken like a man who co-owns a multibillion-dollar company, Hartford. She’s so tanned. And she’s changed. A lot. Keira lets out a small laugh before putting the baseball cap back on. She shoves her hands into her pockets, anchoring her jeans shorts lower on her hips, revealing a bit of her taut stomach. Goddammit. The succulent sight makes my mouth water. Is she doing that on purpose? I pull my eyes up to hers. “You should’ve at least texted me a photo to warn me.” “That would’ve killed the surprise.” Her hazel-green eyes dance with mischief. “I’m going to have to tell your brother off.” Her expression turns serious. “I requested Noah not to tip you off.” I wonder why? “What happened? You look so different.” She licks her lips in a slow motion, as if looking for her words. I commit the tempting view to memory. “There’s so much to tell.” She averts her gaze for a beat. “We can talk about it, but not here... someone might recognize me.”
Guilt hits me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to push.” “It’s okay, Rhys.” There’s a novel’s worth of words to share, but we simply smile at each other for a long beat. I was worried about this encounter. I’m glad to see it was all in my head. Her parting words were a slap in the face and since then, we haven’t talked much. After the tragedy that ripped her world apart, I reached out via text. Her responses were succinct. I break the silence. “Welcome home.” “It was time.” “You weren’t ready until now.” She answers with a slow nod. “We’re acting like strangers,” I say. “Come here and give me a big hug, Cocoa Puffs.” Her lips purse into this—admittedly adorable—little unimpressed pout. “What?” I feign ignorance. “I’m not a kid anymore, Rhys.” There’s no mistake she’s all grown up. My body has known that for years. My brain is still fighting with reality. “I go by Keira these days.” “Stop arguing with me, Keira,” I say. “Come here.” I don’t give her a choice. I pull her body to mine. She’s tentative at first. She doesn’t embrace me the way I would’ve hoped, so I tease her, like I used to. “I’m not going to break. Hug me like you mean it.” She laughs. Her body softens like melted butter against the hard angles of mine. I don’t hear her sigh. I feel the rise and fall of her chest, and her breath exhaling. Thank God her cross-body bag acts as a buffer between my chest and her breasts. I sigh in relief. I lay my cheek against the top of her head, enfold her tiny body in my arms and inhale de eply. “You smell like fruity watermelon candy,” I say. “You can still smell it?” Her voice comes muffled against my chest. “I can.” “Michaela and I thought it would be fun to try a new scent of shampoo. It’s popular in Bangkok. I’m not so sure I like it. It’s a little too strong for my taste.” At least you don’t smell like ‘Eau de Vage’. This was supposed to be a quick hug, but I can’t let go. She does nothing to break our embrace. Holding her like this fills my veins with the warm hum of familiarity I missed. “It’s good to see you again, Keira.” “Ditto, Rhys. Thanks for taking in a stray kitten,” she says with a little laugh. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Cocoa Puffs.” I squeeze her tighter. I close my eyes, relishing the moment. “Where’s my welcome home hug?” A man chuckles. Surprised, my heart slams against my chest and my eyes fly open. A familiar face stares at me, blue eyes squinting into slivers of curiosity. “Shane, you can’t cre ep up on people like that,” I say. “I didn’t cre ep up on you. If your eyes were open, you would’ve seen me approaching...” I’m not sure I wanted Keira to know that. Shane’s gaze shifts to the woman I’m still embracing. “You two are so wrapped up in each other, you’re oblivious to everything around you.”
Leave it to Shane Dennison to tell it like it is. I let go of Keira like her body is on fire. “Where’s my hug, man?” Amusement is painted all over Shane’s face. I shake my head and roll my eyes. “Your rejection cuts de ep.” “We haven’t seen each other in a long time.” My finger waves between Keira and me. “In your defense, she’s a hell of a lot prettier than I am. I’d hug her too,” Shane says. I shake my head. Keira blushes. “Keira, I’d like to introduce you to Shane Dennison––good friend, Food Network celebrity chef, top notch personal trainer, co-owner of Fit Thonix Sport Challenge Equipment, newly minted billionaire tycoon, and last, but not least, sharp-dresser. And, as you might have noticed, he also has a smart mouth.” She laughs. “Shane, this is Keira Weatherly.” Shane’s eyes widen as he takes in an unrecognizable Keira. He blinks a few times, his silent question on the tip of his tongue. I give him a tight nod in response. He cocks an eyebrow as if to say, Holy shit. That’s exactly how I feel since seeing her. I became friends with Shane through Beckett. I like him. He’s a good guy with a solid head on his shoulders. I’ve relied many times on his advice. I might’ve had a few too many when I confided in him about Keira after tragedy shook her world. Still, he doesn’t know everything. “Keira is back in LA and she’s staying with me,” I say. “That’s good,” he says. He moves his attention away from me. “You couldn’t ask for a better housemate.” “I’m sure I’ll be in the way,” she says. “Nonsense,” Shane says. “I agree,” I say. “And I’m proud her brother would ask me to watch over her since he can’t.” Shane’s brow puckers before a slow smile spreads across his face as if to say, Watching over her, my ass. I ignore him. “Where are you coming from?” “I was in Cuba and then Miami. I just finished shooting a special for Food Network comparing Cuban food from the homeland versus Miami Cuban-American cuisine. It’s a great segment to end my contract with Food Network.” Thanks to a ridiculously profitable business venture he embarked on with his younger brother and two other partners that made all of them billionaires, Shane hasn’t been shooting as many shows for Food Network in the last couple of years. However, the consummate professional in him wouldn’t end his contract early. “That sounds delicious,” Keira says. “I just need time to settle in. Give me a few weeks and I’ll have a cookout at my place,” Shane says. “I learned so much in Cuba. I can’t wait to put it into practice. I’ll send you an invite via Rhys.” “Thank you. I’d love that,” she says. “Do I also get an invitation?” “We’ll see,” he says. I chuckle. “Do you need a ride?” His phone chimes before he can answer me. He glances at the screen. “Thanks. The chauffeured car is here.” “Anytime.” His gaze bounces from mine to Keira’s. “You two don’t need a back seat passenger, anyway.” He grins. “All right, I’m off. Keira, welcome back to LA and I can’t wait to see you at my place.” “Thank you, Shane. I can’t wait.” “Rhys. I’ll see you around.” He pats me on the shoulder. “Absolutely.” With that, he’s gone. “You must be tired. Let’s grab—” I stop midsentence, my eyes searching around her.
“What are you looking for?” She mimicking me. “Where’s the rest of your luggage?” I point to the backpack at her feet. “Michaela and I left our luggage at the concierge desk of our budget- friendly hotel to grab a quick meal before leaving. When we got back, our luggage was nowhere to be found.” My eyes widen. “What?” “Yeah. Leaving Bangkok was a freaking nightmare.” My protectiveness flares at her admission. “Your luggage just disappeared?” “It’s not clear if our stuff was stolen or misplaced, but we didn’t want to miss our flights. After a frustrating half-hour of useless explanation from the hotel manager, we made the decision to leave the little belongings we had behind.” “You poor thing.” “I know, right? When it rains, it pours.” I pick up her backpack before circling her shoulders with one arm. “Don’t worry, Cocoa Puffs, I’ll take care of you.” I pull her closer to me. She looks up and rolls her eyes... but that doesn’t stop her smile. One look is all it took to flame my attraction for her. As if the distance tampered it to begin with. Hugging her jacked up my desire to unreasonable levels. Which is why I find myself in this predicament. Trailing behind Keira is an ungodly test of the unshakable bound of my friendship with Noah. I can’t help but zero in on her legs. Damn. To add to my torture, with each st ep, she gives me an uninterrupted view of her ass, swishing in those jean shorts that mold to her twin globes. I get that her luggage was stolen and she might not have anything else to wear, but come on, I’m only a man. She might’ve lost a bit of her curves, but that ass is still mouthwatering. And as God is my witness, I just want to bite it. No, no, no. This is ludicrous. I have way more self-control than that. It’s not like I’m Beckett Christensen. Determined to lessen my mounting desire, I white-knuckle my grip around the straps of her backpack, hoping to contain my twitching cock. It’s in vain. I give myself a good talking to, scolding myself. Alas, my cock has a mind of its own tonight. I even adjust myself, so I can ke ep walking without tripping. It’s a lost cause. Biting Keira’s ass is the last thing I should be thinking of. I know full well I’m being a dirty fucker right now, but not having sex in a long time will do that to a man. Adulting comes at a ste ep price. This living arrangement is going to be the bane of my existence. Cocoa Puffs is like a kid sister to you. I r epeat the warning over and over in my head as a reminder. It’s like my cock is mocking me. “My car is over there.” She turns around and looks in the direction of my pointed finger. She freezes and her jaw drops. “That’s your car?” “It is.” She does a double take. “Rhys Hartford, you’re living it large. That’s not a car. That’s a speeding bullet.” The genuineness in her words is touching. “For a one-hit wonder no one remembered until five years ago, I’m doing okay for myself.” I wink at her. “You’re pulling my leg.” Her delicious unpainted, full lips curve into a big smile.
“It’s been a great ride,” I say. “I’ve learned from my previous mistakes. This time around, I ke ep my ego in check. I’m just grateful and humbled I get a second stab at making a name for myself. I don’t take it for granted.” “You wear success well. I’ve been ke eping a close eye on your climb to the top—” “You’ve been stalking me, Keira?” I’m as guilty as she is. I’ve made it my mission to track every aspect of her career––even the heart-wrenching ones. “I’ve been ke eping tabs on you.” “I thought you’d forgotten all about me,” I say in a low voice. An awkward silence stretches between us as we ke ep walking. “Your car must’ve cost a hundred thousand dollars.” She veers the conversation as she closes in on my vehicle. The base model is two hundred thousand dollars, but no need to bog her down with numbers. “It’s a luxury vehicle,” I say. “What model of Benz is it?” I disable the alarm. “It’s a Mercedes-Maybach.” I open the door to let her in. “I’m proud of you, Rhys.” She slips into the passenger seat. I place her bag in the back seat behind her. “Right back at ya there, kid.” “Please,” she says. “I ran away from my career because I couldn’t handle it.” “You’re being too hard on yourself.” She shrugs. I close the door and circle the metallic black car. After removing my suit jacket and placing it neatly on the backseat, I slide behind the wheel. As I place a hand on the stick shift, I catch sight of those toned, tanned legs. Goddammit. I want to feel how soft those legs are or even see how they would look wrapped around–– Put a lid on it. With herculean effort, I rein in my inappropriate thoughts. Desperate to regulate my body’s heat, I play with the A/C, turning it way up. Chivalry demands I make sure she’s okay with the temperature, but I need to cool the hell down. As cold air blows into the car, my eyes are drawn back to her legs like a goddamn magnet. You’re supposed to watch over her. Not lust after her. Listening to the voice of reason, I drag my gaze away from the embodiment of temptation and rev up the engine. I curse the hour drive back to Manhattan Beach. Those legs are going to fuck with my head every other mile. The memory of her ass encased in her jean shorts will haunt me all damn night and feature prominently in my dirty dreams. The same goes for her gorgeous legs.