Chapter 8
brEAKING: TANNER LONG ENCOUNTERS REALITY Local woman not impressed
Tanner
I park my car in front of Alaia’s apartment building and frown. This can’t be right. I check the address she messaged me. This is the correct address. What is Alaia doing living in this dump?
The door to the building is propped open, allowing me to walk straight inside and up the stairs to her second floor apartment.
I knock on the door and wait. When she doesn’t answer, I knock again.
Shit. Did she change her mind? Does she think this is a stupid idea? Does she not want to help me? What will I do if she doesn’t want to help me?
“Alaia!” I shout when I knock on the door for the third time. I don’t care if she changed her mind. She’s not hiding from me.
“Hold your pirates!” she shouts before whipping the door open. “You’re early. I expected you to be late.”
I frown. “Why?”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re not exactly Mr. Responsible.”
My frown deepens. “I’m responsible when it comes to my obligations.”
She studies me for a moment before nodding. “Sorry, I shouldn’t assume.” Her gaze rakes over me. “Flying pirates,” she mutters.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re in a suit.”
“I’m aware. Belinda, my PR agent, insisted I show her my outfit on FaceTime. I was wearing a Hawaiian t-shirt and shorts. But apparently, I’m not allowed to wear anything to suggest I’ve ever had fun in my life.”
She giggles. “Trust me. Men in suits can have fun. Ask me about billionaire romance novels sometime.”
“You read romance?”
“Don’t look so surprised. Romance is the largest fiction genre there is. I refuse to be shamed for my reading preferences.”
I hold up my hands. “Sorry. Not trying to shame you. You surprised me.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “What kind of books did you think I read?”
I shove my hands in my pockets and rock back on my heels as I try to think of a way to answer this question without pissing her off. “Mythology about mermaids?”
She laughs. “Mermaids aren’t part of mythology. Mythology is for creatures that aren’t real.”
“And mermaids are real?”
She grasps my arm and pulls me into her apartment. “Shush. Don’t let anyone hear you asking such a silly question. You’ll be banned from the island. But not before they dunk you in the harbor for insulting the mermaids.”
“I promise not to question whether mermaids are real again.”
“Good. Now you’re getting the idea.”
“Are you ready to go?”
She bites her bottom lip. I fist my hands before I reach for her. I want to be the one biting her lip. Tasting her mouth. Inhaling her scent.
But this is fake. Alaia has made herself perfectly clear. She’s not interested in me.
“What’s wrong?”
She motions to her dress. “I’m not certain I’m dressed appropriately. I binged all this footage of Taylor Swift attending charity events. I thought I nailed it. Approachable, comfortable, polished but not flashy. I’m the kind, approachable older sister.”
“You did nail it. Your sundress is warm and friendly.”
And she’s sexy as hell in it. The fitted top shows off her perky breasts, and the short dress highlights her long legs. Legs I want wrapped around me while I sink inside her. My cock twitches. It’s on board with the idea.
I inhale a deep breath and get myself under control. Alaia doesn’t want me, and I don’t force myself on women who aren’t interested. No means no.
She sways from side to side. “You think so?”
“I know so.” I reach for her hand. “Come on. We need to get on the road. It’s a two-hour drive to the hospital.”
She kicks out her foot. “I’m not going barefoot.”
I hadn’t noticed her feet. But now I can’t stop noticing how cute they are. I rub a hand down my face. This is not me. I don’t get obsessed with women. I have fun, play a little, and then I’m on my way. Before I can get involved and realize they aren’t trustworthy.
For reasons I can’t understand, I don’t want to be on my way with Alaia. I want to stick around.
“And I need to finish my make-up.”
I sigh and make my way to her sofa. “I’ll be waiting.”
“I won’t be long,” she hollers as she rushes to the hallway.
“Sure, you won’t.” I know women. They need time.
While I wait, I study her apartment. It’s not what I expected from the outside. It’s warm and cozy. Books fill every possible space – on the floor, on the side tables, in the bookcase. And the walls are decorated with pictures of the beach.
One wall has several images of people. I stand to inspect them closer. Guessing by the two women who are identical, these are pictures of her family.
Alaia breezes back into the room. She points to the top picture. “This is my mom and dad.”
“He looks familiar.”
“You’ve probably heard of him. Dan Jackson. He’s a photojournalist and has commented on the news a few times.”
“You’re related to Dan Jackson?”
“I’m pretty certain I am, considering he photographed my birth.”
I recoil. “He photographed your birth?”
“Yep. He photographed the twins’ birth, too. My poor mom’s vagina has been on display in museums all over the world.”
I shiver, and she barks out a laugh. “This is exactly how all my boyfriends have reacted to the news.”
“Sorry, it’s…” I trail off before I say her mom’s vagina is unattractive. I don’t think discussing vaginas is first date material.
She snatches a scarf from the back of a chair. “I’m ready.”
I escort her out of her apartment, down the stairs, and to my car, where I open the passenger door for her.
“You’re a gentleman. Surprising. I should fake date NFL players more often.”
A surge of unexpected jealousy arises and I growl. “No fake dating any men while we’re involved.”
Fuck. What am I saying? What am I doing? I don’t get jealous.
Before I can claim I was joking, she snaps out a salute. “Yes, sir!”
“Smart ass,” I mutter as I shut her door.
“You have a nice place,” I say once we’re driving.
She snorts. “Why do you sound surprised?”
“The building isn’t exactly…” I pause. I’m not saying her place is a dump. I can think it. But I’m not saying it.
“It’s not what? There’s nothing wrong with my building.
The grass is mowed every week. There aren’t any weeds in the cracks of the sidewalk.
All the lights work. The elevator broke once and it was fixed within hours.
A cleaner comes and mops the stairs and hallways once a week.
There’s security to get in and out. What exactly is wrong with it? ”
I cringe. “I didn’t realize.”
“Didn’t realize?” She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me. “How can you not realize? How can you think the building is anything other than a nice, small apartment building?”
I open my mouth but no words come out.
“I forgot.”
“Forgot what?” I ask. Are we still discussing the apartment building?
“You come from money.”
I scowl. “I don’t come from money.”
“Your parents are both doctors. And not any old doctors. Aren’t they neurosurgeons or something else super rare?”
I can only nod since I never discuss my parents or the rest of my family. The term family shouldn’t apply to them.
When Alaia doesn’t speak, I glance over at her. She’s studying me. I glance away before she has a chance to figure out the truth.
She pats my hand. “It’s okay. You don’t need to discuss them with me.”
“What are you? A mind reader?”
“Nope. But I do have experience interviewing people. Your entire face closed down on me. It couldn’t have been more obvious if you had a sign flashing ‘subject off limits’ on your forehead.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad? You don’t have to spill your entire life story to me. This is fake, remember?”
My stomach drops every time she says fake. But I refuse to consider why. This is fake. I don’t do real relationships.
“Our friendship isn’t fake.”
“True. It’s my duty to remind you not to tell a friend their apartment is a dump.”
I cringe. “I didn’t use the word dump.”
“But you were thinking it,” she sings.
I motion to the console. “Maybe you should switch on the radio and pick a station to listen to before I put my foot in my mouth again.”
“I’m on it.”
She reaches forward to fiddle with the radio. Relief fills me. She was obviously mad about my comment, but she’s not going to hold it against me. Not the way other women have in the past.
But this is Alaia. She’s not other women.
And we’re not actually dating either. I don’t date. But I think I could make an exception for Alaia.