Sultry Oblivion by Alexa Padgett
Aya
Steve stood in the kitchen wearing an apron and a frown, halfway between mother hen and drill sergeant. I tugged at the bottom of the T-shirt Nash had given me to wear. I’d put my bra back on, but hadn’t been able to handle the days-old panties. I tugged at the drawstring on the sweatpants, ensuring they remained cinched at my waist. Nash caught me and smirked.
“I made coffee,” Steve said, his gaze whisking over us. His frown deepened as he noted Nash’s bruised and swollen hand. “And I’ll get you a bandage for the hand.”
“Thank you,” Nash said.
The two of them skirted around each other—polite, but evidently unsure how to bridge the huge chasm between them.
I watched it unfold as Nash explained what I wanted for breakfast.
Steve nodded. “Good choice. That’s the kind of meal that’ll stick to your ribs.”
“Thanks,” I said. I pushed my way between them since neither seemed able to find the words they wanted. “And maybe I could make a spot of tea?”
Steve turned toward me. “Yeah. We have tea. Basically, an entire tea shop. Let me put on the kettle.”
With Steve bustling around the high-end stove, Nash relaxed. A little while later, Steve set the food in front of us on heavy, bone china plates with a turquoise swirl pattern. I touched one. They reminded me of my mother’s. I bit my lip as emotion rippled through me. I missed my mother so much. She and Nash had been close, and I knew he must miss her, too. These plates felt like an homage to her—a way to keep part of our shared past in his life.
Steve turned back to the sink now filled with suds and pans. I wanted to ask if he’d join us, but Nash looked too calm for me to ruin the moment.
Halfway through the meal, our old friend Hugh showed up, harried and disheveled.
I squealed when I saw him, diving into his open arms.
He held me, rocking back and forth. “Good to see you, girlie.”
“You, too.” I blinked back tears as I beamed up at him.
He frowned and shifted his weight from one wingtip to the other. Yes, Hugh wore wingtips and pleated-front slacks, along with a sleek tie and a smooth Brooks Brothers pinstripe dress shirt starched to perfection. His dark eyes were still as serious as I remembered, and his crazy, curly hair had been cut and combed into submission.
“I’ve felt really bad that Lindsay did that to you. I mean, I was dating her…”
“Lindsay’s behavior wasn’t your fault, Hugh,” I said, my tone gentle. I pulled away from him and returned to my seat, aware of Nash’s intense gaze. “And I didn’t bother to bring my phone with me. My father gave me a model that worked in the UK and Europe after…” I bit my lip. I hadn’t admitted my meltdown to Nash, and I wasn’t ready to discuss that now, not with all the tension in the large, bright kitchen.
“You look like a fifty-year-old hedge-fund owner,” I said instead.
Hugh grinned. “Good. That’s how I counteract Nash’s bad boy, I-don’t-give-a-shit vibe.”
“The counterpoint?” Clearly I’d missed something.
Hugh settled at the table after he snagged a big mug of coffee and a piece of chorizo from Steve.
“I’m his manager,” he said, his chest puffing with pride.
“Congratulations.” I looked between them. “I think.”
“Hey! I’m not that bad,” Nash said.
“Never said anything of the sort, Superstar.”
Steve chuckled, and Nash cracked a smile, but his eyes remained wary, fixed on my face. He knew I’d sidestepped something just now, and he didn’t like it.
“I refused to take the gig until Nash cleaned up his act,” Hugh said. “Even though I’d spent years of my life prepping for it.”
“You didn’t seem interested before,” Nash said.
“I wasn’t sure you were going to survive before,” Hugh shot back.
Nerves fluttered through my belly as the two of them locked gazes. Finally, much to my surprise, Nash conceded with a nod.
Hugh returned his attention to me. “You caused quite the stir leaving England when and how you did, Aya.”
“Not what I planned, but then I didn’t know I was going to be publicly shamed again.” Anger boiled in my veins. “As if I’d agree to a marriage simply because he pressured me.”
Nash’s eyes narrowed.
Right. I hadn’t mentioned that part. I slid across the wide seat of the pine chair until my thigh pressed against Nash’s. His muscle was rock hard.
“He tried to force you into it?” Nash gritted out.
“More like ambushed. He and my father planned it. I met them for brunch…” I trailed off at Nash’s murderous look.
Hugh picked up on the angry vibes. “So you jetted. Smart lady.”
“Self preservation. And Nash, I hadn’t ever considered marrying him.”
Nash nodded but turned his face away.
“So, what’s up with you?” I asked Hugh, definitely needing to change the subject.
Hugh grinned wider than the Cheshire cat. “I’m pretty good. Met a woman.”
I laughed. “Nice. I look forward to meeting her.”
“Definitely.”
Nash continued to brood, so I slid my palm down his thigh to squeeze his knee. He shot me an indecipherable look before returning his attention to Hugh, who was explaining the media frenzy now that the press had figured out I was here, in Barton Creek, with Nash.
“Where did they get that information?” I asked.
“You were spotted in the Austin airport,” Hugh said.
“That doesn’t explain how they know I’m here,” I said. “With Nash.”
Hugh cocked his head. “Good point. I’ll have to look into that. Maybe it was Lindsay. You were seen with her in London.”
“Fucking Lindsay,” Nash grumbled.
“She dropped me at the airport,” I murmured. “Our conversation on the way was enlightening.”
“Was it now? Did she tell you how she showed up in my Vegas hotel room?” Nash asked, his lip curling.
Right. Lindsay had mentioned that Nash hated her more than I ever could. “Yes, she did, actually. And that nothing happened between you.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “At least she was honest about that.”
“Lindsay’s in love with Alistair.”
“She mentioned that in Las Vegas,” Nash said. “I don’t like the idea of her getting what she wants.”
“Not even if we’re a product of that?” I asked.
Nash’s face softened, and he wrapped his good hand around the back of my neck, rubbing there, making me shiver. I wanted this man. I’d always want this man.
“You make a solid point,” he said, a gleam in his eye.
“Focus, man. How do you want to play this?” Hugh asked.
“What’s your suggestion?” Nash asked. He dropped his hand from my neck and refocused on Hugh. “The best angle?”
Hugh sighed. “Honestly? No clue. Just like I’m not sure why I agreed to take this position.” He grimaced. “You could have had anyone.”
“Cam said you were the best fit.”
Hugh threw up his hands. “Camden Grace sweet-talked me into this gig. I was doing well as a venture capitalist—”
“And hating every minute of it,” Nash said.
Hugh’s shoulders bowed. “And hating every minute of it.” He cast me a side glance. “You know what the shows are like—all the energy, all that emotion. It’s such a high. And much better than buying out companies that get sold off, bit by bit, destroying people’s jobs.”
I swallowed, thinking back to Nash’s show in London. I nodded.
“Don’t bring Aya into this,” Nash snapped. “She doesn’t need more reminders of why I’m a bad bet.”
I met his gaze. “Are you?”
He touched his thumb to my lip. “Probably. Lord Dipshit would be safe. I’m a rock star. By very definition we’re unstable, narcissistic assholes.”
“Will you be one with me?” I asked. My pulse pounded in my neck.
His gaze burned, the storms in his eyes violent. “Never.”
I nodded. “And Lord Dipshit manipulated me. He wanted my trust fund.”
All of us grimaced.
“Hurts every damn time, doesn’t it?” Hugh said.
“I hate not knowing if people want me or the fame, what I can give them,” Nash said on a sigh.
“It’s usually what we can give them,” I replied.
Nash shook his head. “Not here, not with us.”
I smiled, resting my head on his shoulder. This. I’d missed this connection. So much.
“So, back to our problem of the day….” Hugh said. “Many of Nash’s fans love him because he’s the unattainable party boy—the perpetual bachelor looking for a good time. If we say you’re serious, that could shock and alienate a large portion of his market, especially because two days ago, Aya was linked to Lord Dipshit.”
“Don’t care,” Nash growled. “I am taken, and I’m not interested in other women. Never have been.”
“But—”
“It’s done, Hugh,” Nash said, his tone final. “The ladies will get over it or they won’t, but I’m not willing to hide Aya. She’s here, she’s with me, and I plan to orient everything around keeping it that way.”
My heart fluttered in my chest.
“Ooo-kay, then,” Hugh said.
I looked between them. “I don’t want to cause problems. If the optics are bad—”
“For you,” Hugh said. “The world doesn’t like…” He sighed.
“Aya didn’t do anything wrong,” Nash growled. “In fact, she stood up for herself and got out of a bad situation. That’s how people should look at this.”
“Should doesn’t mean will,” Hugh said.
I picked up my teacup and drank a healthy dose. When I set it down, my hands were shaking. I hadn’t thought about people’s perception of me—how my leaving and coming to Nash would look. I took a deep, calming breath. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. Maybe… Even I knew I was fooling myself. I’d jumped from one embarrassment to another, possibly worse one.
Nash and Hugh continued to talk, unaware of my mini breakdown.
Hugh’s brows tugged together—not quite a frown but definitely his serious look. “What about the World’s Sexiest Man competition?”
“Not doing it,” Nash said.
“And the charity date that goes with it?”
“Nope.”
“What about your trip to visit the animal shelter?”
I perked up. “When’s that?”
“Today at one.”
I clapped my hands together and turned to face Nash.
He sighed. “If you want to go, we’ll go. But you won’t like the reporters’ questions, and you won’t like what the press writes about you.”
My shoulders slumped. Much as I wanted to be brave, I always struggled with other people’s opinions, their derision.
Hugh tapped his chin. “Done right; I think we can spin this so the world sees you as star-crossed lovers and root for you. Some of the women will be jealous and try to drag you down, or at least say catty things about your looks, clothes, parentage, heritage—anything they can think of to make themselves feel better.”
“We don’t have to go,” Nash said. “I don’t want Aya hurt by me. Not again.”
His eyes were back to turbulent seas.
“And miss out on puppy and kitten snuggles?” I asked, though fear had settled like an angry knot in my belly.
Nash touched my cheek. “I don’t want you to be scared. Or hurt by what people write. It doesn’t matter to me.”
My throat felt tight. “It does to me,” I whispered. When Nash opened his mouth, I placed my fingers over his lips. “I’ve lived with constant mean comments. I don’t know which is worse—the press or Holyoke. Either way, they hurt me. Yes, it makes me feel better to know you never meant to hurt me. But I’m…I’m working on the rest of it. Still, I don’t want to hide. We have to move forward.”
Nash’s eyes remained dark. “I don’t ever want you hurt. Not if I can help it.”
I squeezed his hand. “When have the woulds and shoulds ever made the top-line category for other people?” I asked.
Hugh shook his head. “Not sure what that means, but I get the gist. I can tell you that you want to get ahead of this—own the narrative. We can do that right now, so going today is smart. Actually, it’s the best choice because it’ll be relatively low-key. While you’re there, I‘ll make some apologies and a hefty donation to get you out of the charity date and competition, so let’s get you two ready to rock and roll to the shelter in a couple of hours.”
The timeframe meant no time to explore each other’s bodies. Probably for the best, though my heart—and other body parts—already trembled with need for Nash. From the hooded look in his eyes, I’d have all that masculine power and broodiness over me, compelling me soon. My breath caught as memories leaped into my mind.
As soon as Nash loved me again, I’d be completely lost, under his spell. Completely. He still didn’t seem to understand what he did to me.