Page 56 of Stroked by (Stroked)
I’m not going to battle with her. I take my opportunity and quickly follow her directions.
Once I walk in her room, I’m instantly taken aback. Paisley is a tough girl, a little rough around the edges, wears cut-off jean shorts, boots, and has tattoos decorating her skin. I would consider her to be hard as nails, with a room to match, but that’s not what I find in front of me.
Her room is all white. White furniture, white walls, white decorations. Her bed has white sheets and a huge, fluffy white comforter that looks so fucking welcoming I want to bury my head in it. A collection of pastel abstract paintings hanging above her bed provide the only color.
The door behind me closes and locks, and I prepare for a verbal lashing.
I turn to see her come up next to me and push me in the shoulders, sending me back an inch. Only an inch. Despite her athletic build, she’s still small compared to me.
“What are you doing here? You can’t just show up at someone’s place unexpected, disturbing the apartment peace.” Her voice is quiet yet stern.
“Technically, it wasn’t unexpected. I sent you a text that I was coming over.”
“Urggggg,” she screams . . . quietly. She paces the room, hand to her head. “Just tell me why you’re here.”
Knowing I need to hang up my sarcastic comments, I capture her with my hands and hold her still. Her dusky eyes stare up at me, searching for answers. I take a minute to observe her, and that’s when I notice she’s wearing a rather revealing tank top with nothing underneath. From the armholes, I can see her entire ribcage and from the front, I notice her hardened nipples poking through the thin fabric. My body heats up and the jacket I’m wearing almost feels suffocating. Needing some relief, I unzip the front and expose my bare chest to the cool night air flowing through her open window.
Her breath hitches in her throat, and her eyes fall on my partially exposed chest. Satisfaction runs rampant through me from her reaction. She can’t be that mad at me if she’s still willing to show heat in those hungry eyes of hers.
Deflated, she asks again, “Reese, why are you here?”
I press my finger under her chin and force her to meet my stare. “Paisley, I want to apologize for the way I reacted at my house.” I take a deep breath and continue. “I’m a jealous fuck most of the time, and when I heard some other man talking to you on the phone, I lost it.”
“So you accuse me of being a cheater? Do you really think that poorly of me?”
Fuck, this is harder than I expected it to be, not because it’s hard for me to apologize, but because Paisley’s eyes are practically bleeding they look so upset. It’s killing me, one blink at a time.
“It’s the opposite, Paisley. I think too highly of you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Gripping the back of my neck, I think of the right words to say to her. “The minute you walked into my life, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. You’ve consumed me, in and out of the pool. I can’t focus, I can’t think of anything else but your sweet lips and your devastating body. All I want is to fuck you against a wall every time I see you, so much so my mind goes blank when you’re around. You’ve captivated me, Paisley. When I thought you were with someone else, I fucking lost it and jumped to ridiculous and hurtful conclusions. It was a dick move that I immediately regretted.”
“It was a dick move,” she says softly, looking down at her feet.
“That’s why I’m here. I needed to see you, to apologize and tell you how sorry I am.”
“You could have done that the next time I saw you. You didn’t have to come here.”
“I did.” I lift her chin to look at me again. “What don’t you get? I can’t stay away from you, Paisley.”
She shakes her head. “This can’t happen, Reese.”
“You keep saying that, but I don’t understand why. I know it’s not because of Bellini. Is it because I’m your boss? Fine, you’re fired.” I say it in a joking matter, but her eyes well up with tears and I immediately regret it. “Shit, baby, don’t cry.” I pull her into my chest, but she pushes me away.
“You don’t get it, Reese. I’m not some Olympic medalist with millions of dollars and endorsements. Nor am I a reality star who can blow money on things like Belgian chocolate-covered schnitzel. I am a girl, with a hefty college loan and one chance at redeeming myself in my chosen profession.”
“What are you talking about?”
Instead of falling into my arms like I want her to, she pulls away even more and sits on her bed, clearly in distress. “Remember a while back, that reporter on Good Morning Malibu who went off the deep end and swore on camera when she didn’t think people could hear her?”
“I think so,” I reply, thinking back to when it was trending on Facebook.
“Well, I was the one in charge of her mic. I was distracted and forgot to switch it off. Needless to say, one minor error cost me years in building up a career through interning and school. Now no one in the industry wants to hire me, except for this job. I don’t want to be an assistant to a reality star, but it’s the only option I have that puts me close enough to the camera that I can help out with production. I was able to offer suggestions to Jasper, and it felt amazing, like I was back in the game, but then you had to come along and ruin everything.”
“How am I ruining everything? Seems to me like you’re flourishing with your job and making strides.”
“You don’t get it. If I’m caught fraternizing with my boss, with someone on the show, especially someone who in the public’s eye is dating the most famous reality star of our generation, I can get canned and banned so fast from this industry that I should probably go back to college for another profession.” She takes a deep breath. “This job is important to me, Reese. Not only did my parents practically disown me when I left home because of my aspirations, but they’ve been waiting for me to come crawling back from not being able to make it in this industry. I can’t have that happen.”
