King of Players: An Opposites Attract Romance (Billionaire Kings of New York Book 3)

8. Life and Everything

eight

Chad

I was so entirely wiped when I went to bed that night that I slept in my clothes. Who would have thought that Kaira Bradley would give it up on the first non-date? Abel was wrong about her—in fact, everyone was. She was a fairly open woman, once one knew how to talk to her.

If only I knew what had gone wrong toward the end, that made her freak out on me like that.

The next morning, I was awakened by the ringing of my phone. Upon opening my eyes, the initial thought was that it must have been Kaira, calling to apologize for her strange behavior last night. However, I saw my friend Dakota’s name blink across the screen and let out the breath I was holding.

“Good morning, beautiful.” I smiled into the phone.

She chuckled. “I tirelessly wait for the day you stop being gross. It’s almost noon, and I have three free hours until my next shoot. Wanna grab brunch?”

“When was the last time I said ‘no’ to that?” Pushing aside the covers, I leapt out of bed. “I need ten minutes to shower and five to get dressed.”

“Perfect. I can be there in twenty.”

“Done.”

On my way to the bathroom, I tried calling Kaira’s number. She had clearly shut it off… or blocked me.

In Dakota’s car, and while she drove toward our favorite brunch spot in the city, I called the foundation office. I was sternly told that she would be in back-to-back meetings all day, and that they would inform her that I had tried to reach her.

Ouch.

In an attempt to exorcize the thought out of my head, I decided to indulge in a rich, high calorie meal. Dakota’s eyes widened, and as soon as the waiter left, she twisted the corners of her lips. “I skip two weeks of brunch, and you’re already getting over a crush?”

I never hesitated to spill to Dakota. Having started out as college friends, she was the first woman to have ever come out to me as a lesbian. She was also the first woman on whose shoulder I’d cried when my first love had left me. Without a doubt, Dakota and I had been through a lot together—the sister I never had. That was why I immediately tittered, my finger tracing the curve of the glass of water in front of me. “You know how I always seem to… blow their minds?”

Her eyes sparked with mischief. “No! She left before you got to third base?”

“Oh, I was all up in that base, alright.”

Tossing a napkin at me, she chuckled. “Asshole.”

“She kicked me out right after,” I quickly followed.

Her face froze as her eyes fixed on my face, puzzled. After a moment of silence, she straightened her back and looked away. “Chad, what did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Were you drunk?”

My chuckle showed how vulnerable I was feeling under the scrutiny of my best friend. “Koda, I’m always drunk on a one-night-stand.”

“What were you on? Were you strung out?”

“Dakota!”

“What? I’m serious! That’s a fucking first; questions are in order.” She paused for a second, then suddenly raised her eyebrows. “She’s married.”

“She’s not.”

“She might be.”

“I’m telling you, she’s not.”

“Okay, she’s… gay and was just trying?”

I chortled, hardly trying to assume humility. “C’mon, Koda. I was there. She loved it.”

“She…” she drew it out, thinking. “Remembered that she has chlamydia?”

“Fuck me!”

“No, okay.” My friend started tapping the wooden surface of the table with her fingers, as she did when she didn’t know what to say. “She’s a spy. An agent. She’s FBI!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Let me know when you’re done.”

“Okay, seriously though… so you got to your thirties before a woman kicked you out of bed. Boo-fucking-hoo!”

“That’s not the point,” I argued. The waiter came with our order, so I had to stop, my eyes locking with my friend’s as she seemed to try to decipher the real reason behind my irritation. When he was gone, I added, “The point is that I gave her a really good time. I was a gentleman. I was—”

She suddenly interrupted me, “Maybe it had nothing to do with you at all!”

“I was the only other person in the house.”

“So? Maybe she has issues. How long have you known this woman, anyway?”

“A few days.”

Scoffing, she grabbed her knife and fork and began tackling what was on her plate. “Jesus, Chad. Fuck her, alright? You don’t deserve this.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Do you know how many psychos live in this city? More than I’d like to know, personally. Unfortunately, I work behind the camera and observe way too much.”

“And your point is?”

“Meditate, get a massage, pop a happy pill… just forget about her and be thankful that you don’t have to see her again.”

“What if I want to?”

She snorted. “Masochist much?” Then popped a full bite into her mouth, watching my expression as she chewed.

“There’s just something about her,” I explained. “Something that makes me want to know more.”

“And you did. You slept together. End of story.” She paused, reaching for my hand. “Honey, I’ve always worried that because of your career, you’d end up in some fucked up, abusive relationship. And so far, you’ve picked your battles well and cut your losses like a pro. Don’t go pulling an existential crisis on me now!”

“You know how the whole thing started? It was a one-sided bet between me and Abel.”

“Abel?”

“He told me I couldn’t, and so I wanted to. And now that I have… I don’t know. I feel like we… didn’t talk enough?”

“Then, talk!” She casually shrugged. “Be friends, that’s fine. Just don’t start building a love story around the woman who makes you feel like this.” Pausing, she leaned slightly forward, a serious look radiating from her eyes. “If you allow yourself to assume the role of the victim for her, it will stick.”

Knowing where that came from—a failed relationship of hers from a couple of years ago—I gave her a comforting smile. “I’ll never forget that.”

In an attempt to mirror my smile, she could barely stretch her lips. “Good. Cause I love you, man.”

“I know.” I nodded. “Speaking of love, how’s Bridgit?”

“She’s good. Actually, she’s helping me with the shoot later. Wanna come?”

“I can’t. I have to be on the Brad Lopez show at three.”

“Oh, nice.”

I scoffed and waved it off before digging into my food. Dakota and I spent the rest of our brunch talking about work, gossiping and laughing. When we were done, I was picked up in a limo and driven to the studio to get ready. The interview was typically everything my fans would have expected; talks of my upcoming project, relationship status, and, of course, addressing the rumors that naturally surrounded a thirty-two-year-old actor who was considered a sex icon.

Of course, my excessive partying, sightings with several women, and the age-old question of ‘Do you ever see yourself settling down?’ took the spotlight. That was where I mentioned that I was starting to invest more time and funds into charities and giving back, derailing the conversation and earning my persona a new attribute. I was now Chadwick, the once reckless bachelor, who was now growing up to be more responsible.

“It’s one thing to indulge,” I said at one point. “It’s a whole other thing to be aware of what other people need. And I can now say that I was late, absolutely… but better late than never, right?”

Around seven o’clock, and just as I was about to leave my house for a dinner party, I tried Kaira’s number again. And again, it was unreachable. A woman like her couldn’t have possibly gone the whole day with a shut off phone. She must have blocked me.

But why?

At the dinner hosted by one of my director friends, we finished eating and started gathering around the pool with drinks. The women took off their clothes, revealing skimpy bikinis underneath, while the men showed off the latest trends in colorful swimming trunks. A sip here, a splash in the water there—it was starting to be more and more fun. That was when Halina, a Dutch model and a friend of mine, made her appearance in a breathtaking golden bikini.

After greeting everyone, Halina descended into the pool, choosing the steps next to where I was standing. “So, if I don’t call, you never will,” she shot me a berating, yet forgiving look with a coy smile.

“I’m sorry, baby.” I swam closer, extending my arms over the water and grabbing her shoulders. As we rotated and twirled, I asked. “How’ve you been?”

“I had a very successful campaign with the Mallory Boutique, since you asked.”

“That’s fantastic.” My hands toyed with her wet, blonde locks, while my eyes drank in the sheen of her wet lips. “How come you didn’t eat with us earlier?”

Frowning, she rolled her eyes. “I had to have dinner with my family. They’re visiting, and I couldn’t get out of it.”

“That must’ve been fun.”

“You know it.” She tittered. “And just so you know, I popped something half an hour ago.”

Knowing full well what that meant, I chuckled, shaking my head in fake disapproval before dipping downward. As the water engulfed me, I opened my eyes and took a mental snapshot of what Halina’s perfect body looked like, distorted yet alluring in an illuminated blue haze.

Something was about to happen, and if I was to take Dakota’s advice, I had better let it.

Half a drink later, Halina’s laughter had grown louder and her movements more flamboyant, so we excused ourselves and went inside. Upstairs, giggling and pretending to sneak about, we searched for a room to inspire us. As soon as we found one, however, Halina rushed in, practically kicking open the bathroom door and kneeling in front of the toilet.

Slowly approaching, I stopped at the doorway and whispered, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waved both hands behind her head, as if to urge me to leave. “Don’t come in. This is gross.”

“I thought this didn’t happen to you with pills.”

“It’s not the pill.” She sighed, letting gravity pull down her weight, sitting her down on the tile. “It’s my grandma’s stupid, stupid cooking. She insisted on making ‘erwtensoep’, and my stomach must have forgotten what that was like.”

At that moment, I knew that nothing was going to happen with Halina tonight. I might have seen thousands of women throw up in my lifetime; but not a single incident of those had been followed by anything sexy. Yes, perhaps I was an asshole at that. But what could I do?

The mood was dead.

Instead of making out, Halina and I spent the night with bottles of water and a bowl of crackers. And in place of sex, we tried to bond in a different way as she talked to me about her father and his controlling mother. I felt like a therapist conducting an endless session for free. But the best part about it—and I had to excuse my brain for even thinking it—I didn’t have to feel guilty about sleeping with Halina while my head was with another woman entirely.

When she finally fell asleep, I wondered if I could fall asleep next to her. I tried for maybe an hour, to no avail. Finally, I decided to let Halina rest and go back to the party downstairs.

As expected, most people had retired to the bedrooms, and my friend the host and another buddy of ours were sitting by the pool, shooting the breeze with half a bottle of whiskey.

When they saw me, they both laughed, wondering if Halina had finally realized that I wasn’t ‘a good lay after all’.

I grabbed a glass, tossed in a couple of ice cubes, and joined them on the floor. And the night turned into day in the lightness of good company.