Read On Paper Online

Authors: Shae Scott

Tags: #Romance

On Paper (9 page)

BOOK: On Paper
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I let out a deep breath and finally tuned back into what Lily was saying. Something about finding a glass of wine and spotting a table of food. I followed her, resisting the urge to look back at where he was standing, but I could still feel him in the room. It was something I was getting used to, the way his presence filled the entire space, commanding the attention of everyone around him. It was a little intimidating, a little annoying, and a lot mesmerizing.

Lily handed me a glass of wine and I took a sip, finally taking in my surroundings. It was still just a big meeting room, but they'd done their best to add a little bit of flare. The lights were turned low and they had accented the room with tall lamps that cast a soft glow across the walls. Lily and I found a tall table along the edges so we could people watch. We weren't alone long and I smiled as some of the girls that we had met earlier in the week joined us.

"I think we’re all going to cut out of here soon and go to one of the bars down the street for a bit, you girls want to come?" Lena asked, tossing her long red hair over her shoulder. We’d met her in one of our panels the first day here. She was a teacher, and fun as hell.

"Ooh, maybe. I was supposed to meet up with someone later, but that sounds fun," Lily said. "What about you, Quinn, you want to go check it out?"

I caught myself glancing around the room before answering. Why was I looking for him? Lily elbowed me and I smiled at my friends. "Sure, that sounds like fun," I agreed. Lily gave me a knowing smirk, but didn't say anything.

It was the pull. It was distracting me.

"Well, I'm gonna try and sneak over and talk to a few people, but you wanna head out in like half an hour?" Lena asked.

"Sounds good," I smiled back. I was irritated with myself. I wasn't here to swoon over some guy. I was here to meet authors and like-minded readers. And here I was acting like a girl with a crush. Worse, a crush on the popular guy who is probably just a big jerk, but because he is hot, you just don't care. I hated girls like me.

It made me feel much better about ditching this and going out with the girls. That feeling tripled when I looked up and noticed the source of my unease surrounded by a bevy of ladies. He just stood there in the middle, beaming down at them. Ugh, who was this guy and what in the world did I think I was going to do with him?

Two hours later I was sitting in a dueling piano bar with Lily, Lena and a group of about ten other girls drinking brightly colored martinis and singing at the top of our lungs. It was exactly what I needed to get my mind off of the man I'd left back at the party. This was where I belonged. I'd been completely sidetracked and distracted by him. It was crazy. He was already making me crazy and I hadn't even spent much time with him. Spending an entire day with him could very well be detrimental to my sanity. Still, there was a part of me that really wanted to risk it. I didn't know what to do with that side of me, so I drowned her out with another cocktail.

I drained the remains of my glass and looked up to see a new face at the table. Miles slid into a chair next to Lily and gave us all a wave. My heart stopped as I searched the space behind him to see if his brother was with him. I waited. Nothing. There was no sign of him. I couldn't decide if I was relieved or disappointed. What if he was with one of those slutty, doe-eyed girls from the mixer? I felt my stomach turn over with an unfamiliar pang of jealousy. Jealousy over a guy I didn't even know. It was no wonder girls were crazy. Look what we had to deal with.

I focused in on the music and the chatter of the girls sitting near me. I did my best not to look towards the door to see if Keaton would show up. I still looked, but I was too tipsy to give myself a proper scolding.

It was late when we made it back to the room and while I was tipsy I had refrained from getting drunk. Just in case I decided to go through with my date in the morning.

Who was I kidding? I was totally going on my date in the morning.

Unless I talked myself out of it.

 

 

I NEARLY CHANGED
my mind. I almost stood him up. Lily told me I was being ridiculous, but after seeing him surrounded by all of those people the night before I felt completely out of place. The women who had surrounded him had been beautiful. They had laughed at everything he’d said and he'd played to them like a trained monkey. Okay, that was mean. It was his job in a sense, to be charming, to sell his brand. I got it. I got that he was sexy as sin and even if he’d had some boring, nondescript job women would still be all over him all the time. It was just who he was. I got it. I really did.

I just didn't know if I could fit in that world. Temporary basis or not. I couldn't figure out why he wanted to spend the day with me anyway. I wasn't anything like those girls he was with last night. I wasn’t swooning over every word that he said and I certainly wasn’t jumping into bed with him. So why did he want to run around the city with me?

When I'd voiced all of this to Lily she had shrugged and reminded me life was better when you didn’t ask so many questions. Her advice: take what life gives you and make it significant. I rolled my eyes and reminded her we were talking about Keaton Harris and I was pretty sure significant wasn’t on the agenda.

"Look," Lily had said that morning when I was getting ready. "You don't have to make a big deal about any of this. You said yourself that there was more to him than you'd first thought. What is the harm in getting to know that side a little better?"

"You don't think he's just doing all of this because he wants to sleep with me do you?" I'd asked.

Lily gaped at me. "Of course he wants to sleep with you. Were you in that panel yesterday when he was eye fucking you across the room?"

I groaned, "Wrong answer."

She laughed, "Quinn, why are you being such a goody two shoes? You've never been uptight about this kind of thing."

"I don't know. It just feels different with him. He sleeps with everybody. I don't need to be another notch on his bedpost or a chapter in one of his books."

"You don't have to sleep with him. At the same time, you are an adult and he's a fine piece of ass so it's perfectly okay if you do. Live a little. Why not let him be a chapter in
your
book," she said.

She wasn't helping. Fact was, I did want to sleep with him. A realization that had me feeling both appalled and excited. I barely recognized myself. Three days ago I’d written him off as a repulsive playboy and now, not only had I agreed to spend the day with him, but I was contemplating becoming one of his playthings. A voice in the back of my mind told me I was better than this. After all, I had judged all of those other girls for the way they had acted and here I was, behaving the same way.

But, the new me, the me I was trying on, didn’t waste time on that kind of over-thinking.

The new me showed up.

I left the room, took the elevator down to the lobby and scanned the room for him. He wasn't alone. I should have known that he wouldn't be. I took a deep breath and walked straight to him, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach and the whisper of insecurity as I joined the crowd.

The nerves faded a little when I saw his smile. The guy should have a toothpaste commercial with that smile.

"Hi there," he said quietly, reaching his hand out to pull me into the circle.

"Hey."

"You'll have to excuse me, ladies; I was just on my way out. Have fun today," he said easily. They all said their goodbyes and drifted away.

"You always have a crowd around you," I said, glancing around the busy lobby.

"Not really. Just at these things. Most of the time no one has a clue who I am. Pretty normal life really," he said.

I nodded. That made sense. Still, I didn't know him in his normal life so this was all a little weird for me.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, taking my hand and twining his fingers with my own. I felt a shock run through me at the touch, but I pushed it aside.

"Sure. Where are we going anyway?" I asked.

"North. Do you like wine?" he smiled.

"I do," I said feeling excitement build within me. I had been hoping to find a way to visit some of the wineries, but with our schedules figured there was no way to make it happen.

"Good. I got us a car." He gave my hand a squeeze and led me out of the hotel. There sitting at the curb, guarded by a doorman was a shiny, black car that sat very low to the ground. The kind that looked expensive and fast and that I had absolutely zero knowledge of except to know that I should probably be impressed. He thanked the doorman, slipping him a tip and opened my door for me.

"I guess they were all out of economy sedans?" I asked.

"Looks like it," he smiled.

I slid in against the smooth leather and glanced around the interior. This car was fancy. It was fancier than anything I'd been in before. I played with the edge of my scarf, a nervous habit.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded. He put the car in gear and the engine revved, it matched the acceleration of my heart.

I didn't say much as Keaton weaved through traffic on his way to the highway that would take us over the Golden Gate Bridge. I was so fascinated by this city, too busy taking in the sights to realize that we were riding in silence. It was weird, I'd been nervous about this very thing. What it would be like if we didn't have anything to talk about. But here we were, ten minutes into our journey and there was no talking. And I felt completely comfortable with it.

I looked over at him, relaxed in the driver's seat, hand resting casually on the wheel, the other one on the gear shift that sat between us. He may have his arrogant side, but seeing him like this I couldn't help but think that he'd earned it. How could you be that good looking and that comfortable with yourself and not have a self confident attitude? It was just who he was.

"Isn't this bridge amazing?" he asked as we approached the entrance to the Golden Gate Bridge.

"I love this bridge. Look at the fog. I feel like I'm in a postcard or something," I agreed.

I watched as the fog drifted over the water, making it seem like we were in a cloud. It was beautiful and dreamlike and one more reason I was falling in love with this city.

Suddenly Keaton broke the silence, humming under his breath. I whipped my head towards him, "Are you humming the Full House theme song?"

"It needed to happen," he shrugged.

"Best show," I agreed laughing.

"So, now that I have you trapped in this car with me for awhile, why don't you tell me more about yourself?" he suggested.

"What do you want to know?" I asked.

He shot me one of those dazzling smiles he was so good at. "Everything."

"That's a little daunting," I laughed.

"Fine. We'll make it a game. I’ll ask you a question and then you get to ask me a question. Nothing is off limits." I thought about it for a minute. Nothing off limits. That could get interesting. But I didn't have many skeletons in my closet, so he couldn't really uncover much. Plus, having open access to him, when he was so much a contradiction and a mystery to me was too good of an offer to pass up.

"Deal. You can ask first," I offered.

He smiled again, his tongue sliding across his lip as he contemplated where to begin. It made me swallow hard.

"Okay, let's see. Let's start with the easy stuff," he grinned.

I released a breath and waited. It felt good, sitting here with him. I liked the butterflies that danced in my stomach, and I liked the way his voice not only set me at ease, but sped my pulse when it dropped an octave. I could already tell that there were many layers to Keaton Harris and I was looking forward to unraveling them one at a time.

"Favorite color?" he asked.

I laughed, "Hard-hitting journalist."

"No, this is how it works. You start off easy and get your subject to trust you. You can't go in for the kill right away. Watch and learn," he teased.

"Okay, my favorite color is green," I said.

"What kind of green? Grass, forest, sage, radioactive?"

"Green green. Just plain old green," I laughed.

"Just checking," he smiled.

"What about you? What's your favorite color?"

"I like blue," he answered. Why did I feel like I should have a notebook to write this all down?

"Dark chocolate or milk chocolate?" he asked

I scrunched my nose and shook my head. "I don't really like chocolate," I admitted.

"What? You don't like chocolate? Really?" he sounded shocked.

I shrugged, "Overrated. I like peanut butter though."

"Well, I guess that's something," he said. I watched him shake his head as if he was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that I didn't like chocolate. I got that reaction a lot; it was a very unpopular opinion. "I don't like French fries," he said thoughtfully.

"Really?" I asked, now it was my turn to be shocked.

"Nope."

"What do you eat with your burger?" I asked.

He shrugged, "I don't know. Just depends."

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