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I couldn’t believe what I was doing. For years I’d tried to ignore Sean, to not think about him. And that was as good as impossible—after all, he was the guy who’d taken my virginity. Not like you can forget about that particular hook-up in the shuffle of relationships and one-night stands. Then again, I hadn’t had too many of the former. Or the latter.
I took in the sights of the neighborhood as I drove, the houses getting ritzier and ritzier and further and further away from the road as I went up. I was equal parts blown away and made all the more aware of my own less-than-luxurious circumstances. You could probably take my tiny Silver Lake apartment and stick it into one of these houses and the owner wouldn’t notice it for a week.
“Someday.” I gave myself a much-needed pep talk after the shitty day I’d had. “When you’re an insanely successful small-business owner. Hell, a major-business owner. Maybe even a chain owner.”
I smiled, loving the idea. Only thing was I had to come up with a name for the place. Shania’s? Nah—I loved my name, country-music-celebrity jokes notwithstanding, but it didn’t seem right for what I had in mind.
Before I could give the matter much more thought, my Google Maps started talking in the Australian male’s voice I’d set it in, letting me know my destination was right up ahead.
Luckily, it wasn’t going to be a total shock for Sean. At least, kind of. Stump had, through Sean’s manager, let Sean know that a “representative” of Circus Maximus was going to be stopping by. However, I was certain he didn’t mention who it was going to be. And why would he? After all, not like he knew about me and Sean’s history.
And no way he was going to find out. This whole situation had been enough of a mess already without my sleazeball boss hearing the details of my sex life.
I put all that out of my head and pulled into the driveway of Sean’s place, letting out an impressed noise as I took it in. It was one of those ultramodern houses that looked like a bunch of white-bordered, glass rectangles stacked on and around each other. Not exactly my style, but pretty freaking fancy nonetheless. And the view looked absolutely killer.
Once I was parked I immediately became aware of how much of a contrast my old, kinda-run-down car was with the luxury around in front of me. Not exactly the fanciest ride of a “representative,” but whatever.
“OK, Shania,” I said, psyching myself up for the task at hand. “Let’s do this stupid thing.”
I got out of my car, grabbed the gift basket, the cellophane wrapping crinkling against me, and started toward the front door. Once I was in front of it, I pressed the doorbell, a small monitor letting me know that I was on camera.
Tension built inside me with each passing second. I hadn’t even considered how I was going to play this whole bizarre situation. Maybe drop the basket and stammer out a quick apology and hurry back to my totally out-of-place car and hope that did the job?
No—that was hardly a solution. I mean, the weird kinda-truce that Sean and I’d had going on for the last few months of us not really talking to each other in mixed settings unless we had to, well, it’d been an imperfect solution at best. But that all ended with the massage incident.
Time passed. I glanced over at the screen, half-expecting Sean’s face to appear. But it didn’t. It was still me standing there, the giant gift basket, which felt heavier by the second, in my hands.
“Hm,” I thought. “Maybe he’s not here. Maybe I could get away with fleeing the scene, leaving the gift basket here with a little note or something. Could wo—”
Before I could get too carried away with an escape plan, I heard a familiar voice call out from within the house.
“Coming! Hold on!”
So much for that plan.
Through the doors I heard the soft patting of bare feet on hard floor, steps that grew louder by the second. The door clicked unlocked, and then it opened.
It was Sean. And he was in a towel.
Again.
Chapter Six
SHANIA
The man was all smiles, a big, charming grin plastered all over his way-too-handsome-for-comfort face. If he was feeling any residual weirdness from what had gone down before, he sure as hell was keeping it hidden.
“Hey!” He rested his hands on the cut notches of his hips, drawing my attention to them and making me consciously tear my eyes away.
Somewhere in my head I knew the very simple response to what he’d just said. I mean, I was a normal, functioning human with a brain, after all. When someone says “hey” to you, you say “hey” right back.
