Page 60 of Lovestruck

“Wonderful, Zara. We’ll see you then.”

16

Of course I’m beyond thrilled. But I’m also furious.

I’m half irate that he would dare to take this kind of liberty. I’m also half in awe that he would be nice enough to basically launch me into the stratosphere using his gigantic platform.

Thank you thank you thank you.

Not for the off-limits part of the equation. Or the part that means I’ve been swept away by the absolute apex of what I’m absolutely forbidden to have. But for everything else.

For the memory of his kiss. The way his mouth felt on mine. The soft, worshipful exploration of the dark-eyed golden boy’s tongue. The hot, insatiable hunger.

I decide to check my messages. There are a lot of them, all from Elias. The first few are from this morning, just after I turned my phone off.

Before I listen, I need to prepare myself. I do my best to put up an invisible forcefield between me and what I wish I could have. The choice I wish I didn’t have to make.

Carefully, like it might burn me, I push the button to play back his messages.

Zara. I told you to leave it to me and I meant that. I’ll handle your dad. I’m coming to your studio tonight and I want you to be there. We can figure this out, Zara. You have to trust me—

The recording ends but it rolls over to the next one.

I know this sounds…intense. And it is. Last night meant something to me. It was the best night of my life and I fucking mean that. I need to see you again. Be there when I come to your studio tonight—

Come on, baby. Answer your phone. You can’t avoid me. I know what you’re thinking but it was too good to regret. You know that. We both know that. You should have woken me up. I would have convinced you not to run from me—

Zara, I’m fucking addicted to how good you feel. And the way you taste, holy fuck, baby girl. I need to see you. Tonight. Please—

I take a deep breath. And I save each message. I should delete them, of course. They’re evidence. But it’s not like the freaking FBI are going to tap my phone or somehow hack my voicemail. No one else knows. Just us.

And Isla.

And possibly Gabriel.

And maybe Jake and West.

Shit.

The rest of the messages are more recent, from less than an hour ago.

Hey, angel girl. I was just thinking about you. He sounds calmer. His voice has a soulful husk to it. Which in some ways makes the yearning even more acute. He sounds sad. Which is ten times worse than mad because now I want to comfort him. I know I’m going to get cut off so I’ll just keep calling back until I can tell you what I want to say—

So, I was thinking about how you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Did I tell you that? I’m still having a hard time believing you’re not some perfect, crazy-ass dream. I mean, fuck, Zara, how can you just step out of my wildest fantasies and straight into my life like this—

And then you walk away? You can’t just give me a taste and not give me more, baby girl, you just can’t. You’ll drive me over the fucking edge. It’s the memory of you that’s keeping me sane at this point. Knowing you’re here, so close, it’s torture. A beautiful, insane kind of torture—

Zara, don’t get mad. I’ve done something I hope will help you fast track the path you’re already on. It’s not me that’s going to get you there, it’s all you, but if I can help you then I’m going to. The post I put up of your painting is up to three million views—

I figured it would be a shame to waste all that exposure. So I emailed the Sea Glass. You told me the name of the gallery you were going for, remember? Don’t be pissed off. You sent the letter, so you can’t say you don’t want this. There’s yelling in the background of the call. Someone’s calling his name. So, they emailed me back and they said they’re interested—

They said they’re going to call you. Just say yes. Say yes to everything. Say yes to them and say yes to me. When you think about it, giving me what I want is a better option than having your dad’s playmaker completely lose his shit before the opening game of the season, right?—

Just talk to me, Zara. We’ll figure this out. Be there tonight. That’s an order from your quarterback. I have to go to practice now. See you later, angel.

Wow.

I save those messages too. And I happen to know he’ll be at practice right now. I also know my dad doesn’t allow the players to have their phones anywhere near the field. So I call him.

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