MELONY
Every time I step out into the parking lot of my apartment complex, or pick up my mail, or even go to the community adult pool I look around, wondering if I’ll see him, if I’ll hear that deep, velvety voice, or smell that distinct cologne of his that makes me feel dumb from my brain short-circuiting.
I hate it.
Hollis Knightly.
I would be the worst liar if I denied he was hot. You can’t look at Hollis Knightly and not find him attractive. It isn’t just the way his hair is full at the top, creating a faux hawk you’re dying to run your hands through. It isn’t those deep blue eyes staring at you with a hint of charm. It isn’t the five o’clock shadow he’s able to maintain on a daily basis, and it isn’t the best set of abs on this planet either. I’m not kidding, the best set of abs.
His smart-ass attitude and cocky self makes him attractive as well. There is something about a guy with a sense of humor that adds so much more sexy to his persona.
Thank God he annoys the shit out of me most of the time . . . most of the time being key.
What I was hoping would be a fun new chapter in my life with my new apartment and residing so close to the ocean, has now become a game of looking over my shoulder, checking to make sure I don’t run into Hollis.
It’s been a week since our dumpster run-in where I tweaked his nipple, and I have yet to see him. A blessing in my eyes. That was until today.
“Where is my swim cap? Melon! Bring me my cap.” Bellini’s voice rings through the production crew as she sits in her chair in a ridiculously fluffy robe, her saintly dog on her lap.
I was beckoned early this morning to primp Bellini for a production shoot of her swimming in a pool with Reese. I have no idea how Jasper, the producer, was able to get Bellini even near a pool, something that makes her skin shrivel up, but here she is. Despite having to put her hair in a swim cap, she still made me wash it, blow-dry it, and curl the tips only to wrap it all up into a swim cap.
Do I wish I could have slept in? Yup, that would have been nice, but then again, I’m getting paid and that’s one more dollar toward my lip-stain production.
Reese bypassed hair and makeup today, not that he really needed anything done, but he said since he was going to be in the pool, there was no need. Bellini had other ideas.
The good thing about today? I will be paid for a full eight hours but only have to work this morning.
After I pack up my supplies, I plan on hitting up the nearest Panera, grabbing an Asiago bagel with butter and a strawberry smoothie, and heading home to look over the packaging options for my makeup line.
I can’t freaking wait to leave here.
“Oh Popey, I’m pretty sure this is the end of me. They are going to make me flop around in that pool of rotten sperm water.”
With my face buried in my makeup brushes, I roll my eyes. This woman. If only someone was brave enough to walk up to her, throat punch the hell out of her stuck-up ass, and take off without a word. I would worship that person and then hope and pray Jonathan caught it all on camera so I could watch it every night before bed. Best night-time lullaby ever: Bellini being throat punched.
“I did extra squats this morning just for this photo shoot. Check out my ass, it doesn’t get better than that.”
Shit.
That voice.
Glancing up quickly, the man I’ve been avoiding at my apartment complex just happens to be at the same pool as me today. I saw a photographer setting up some kind of photo shoot but just thought it was for Bellini and some narcissistic idea she thought of to take more pictures of herself, but clearly that’s not the case.
Pieces of the photo-shoot puzzle start to blend together as Bodi Banks walks on set as well, looking fine as hell. He has this dark brooding thing about him that captures your attention. To be honest, Bodi, Reese, and Hollis all in the same area is any woman’s wet dream. Reese, although more like a brother to me these days, has a bad-boy look with his tattoo, beard, and dark features. Bodi is a beautiful mystery just waiting to be cracked open, and then there is Hollis. Smart-ass extraordinaire, with the body of incredible contours and sinew that keeps your mind racing. They are all dangerous.
This was the GQ photo shoot Reese was talking about the other day. I didn’t realize they paired the two days together. That explains why I didn’t know Hollis would be here.
Keeping my head down, I clean my brushes and prepare the lip stain I’ve chosen for Bellini today. Luckily, she’s come to trust me on my choices. I’ve learned quite quickly what she doesn’t like, thanks to the water she’s tossed in my face on multiple occasions. Yes, like a dramatic soap-opera star, a quick chug of her water to my face ensures not only my makeup is ruined, but I get water up my nose as well. She’s a freaking treasure. Did you hear my sarcasm?
“What are we wearing? Is this a naked shoot? I’m cool with that if it is. I just got done manscaping.” Hollis continues to talk at a nearby distance and I pray he doesn’t come over to see me, especially with Bellini only a foot away. It would be a complete disaster.
“Melon, for Christ’s sake, what is taking you so long? Swim cap and lips. I have places to be today.”
Retched woman.
Smiling brightly, I turn to her with my lip stain on the back of my hand and a lip brush in my hand. She puckers up like always and I have to carefully remind her just to keep her lips normal.
“Bellini, don’t pucker.”
She rolls her eyes. “Just helping you out, but whatever.” Contrary to what she believes, she’s not helping me out one bit, but I don’t correct her.
I paint her lips with a light pink, a color slightly darker than her lips to make them stand out against the light color of her skin. Even though I hate the woman, she does have a nice complexion to work with. Every day I see her, I pray she has some kind of zit but she never does. She must sleep with a life-preserving chamber over her head. I wouldn’t put it past her.
“Rub your lips together.” She does as told while I grab her swim cap to put on her head. In the background, I hear Reese and Hollis discussing their upcoming Olympic trials, which happen to fall on the same days but in different states.
“Coach Ted is a bastard,” Hollis says. I don’t dare look in his direction, anything to avoid him as much as possible. “He had me practicing my back handstand for an hour yesterday. I don’t know if there is any blood left in my head.”
“Was there any in there to begin with?” Reese asks with a chuckle.
“Fuck off.”
“Uh, earth to Cantaloupe. My swim cap.”
Shit, I’m standing still listening to their conversation playing with Bellini’s swim cap. I shake my head, trying to rid thoughts of Hollis and turn toward Bellini. “Sorry about that. I was just making sure all the flowers were in place.” That seems to please her.
Putting her head back, as if there is a fan in front of her and she’s feeling the breeze in her hair, she prepares for the swim cap. I secure it tightly, making sure her freshly styled hair is tucked in perfectly. When I step away, I hold back the snicker that wants to pop out. The swim cap looks absolutely asinine with its fake flowers on top. It’s something you would see a synchronized swimmer from the seventies wear.
“Bellini, we are ready for you,” Jasper calls out. There is a girl assisting him, someone I’ve never met before. She has long black hair, tattoos, and is carrying around a clipboard. I wonder if she’s new. If she is, heaven help her, as she is in for a rude awakening when it comes to working with Bellini.
Reese, Jasper, and Bellini are huddled around, talking about the shots they want to take for the reality show, which yes, is all scripted. Every single show is scripted. If they weren’t scripted, you would be watching people sit on their asses, a TV tray in front of them while watching the latest sitcom on TV, wearing sweats with spaghetti sauce dripping down their chin. But instead, they make life seem so glamorous and fun, when in fact, a high percentage of these people laze about with their thumbs twiddling their vaginas.
Keeping my back to everyone, I finish cleaning my brushes, knowing that once I’m done, I’ll only have to stick around for a little longer to make sure Bellini doesn’t need any more touch-ups. Asiago bagel and strawberry smoothie countdown has begun.
I’m tucking away my curling iron when I feel a presence behind me. I don’t have to turn around to know who it is.
“Hey neighbor.” The crunch of him biting into something echoes behind me. “I like those shorts on you. They ride just high enough to give me a peek at the bottom of your ass when you bend over.”
“What do you want, Hollis?”
Another bite. He answers with his mouth full. “Can’t a guy be friendly with his neighbor? What if I was looking to borrow a cup of sugar? Would you really turn me down like that?”
Knowing he’s not going to go away anytime soon, I face him, adding one hand to my hip. The corner of his mouth smirks, making my little girly heart skip a beat. There is an apple in his hand and I watch in fascination as he brings it up to his mouth and bites down, taking out a huge chunk. Why is watching him eat turning me on?
“There is no need for you to have a cup of sugar right now.”
Rolling his eyes, he says, “Fine, a cup of your fine ass was what I was really looking for but I was trying to be polite. So, what do you say?”
“No.”
“No? You’re not even going to think about it?” He swaggers a little closer to me, and continues, “All right, I get it, you’re more into a tradeoff. Fair enough. I will trade you a cup of your ass for a cup of mine.” He puts his hand out and squeezes the air, indicating his intensions.
“I have no desire to cup your ass.”
His brow furrows. “I don’t believe that for one second.” He turns and pops his ass out toward me. I glance down for a second and take in his warm-up-covered bubble butt. Damn it. He does have a nice ass. No, that’s an understatement; he has an amazing ass. Its round, sticks out just enough to make any girl weak in the knees and it’s firm—at least it looks firm. “Go ahead, give it a squeeze. Free, on the house, no strings attached.” He does a come-hither look while motioning with his head to take advantage of squeezing him.
“Tempting, but I’ll pass.”
Standing straight, clearly not affected by my rejection, he takes another bite of his apple. “Nervous you’re going to fall in love? That I will ruin all men for you? Yeah, that’s happened before.” He points to his head with this finger, tapping his temple. “Smart, wait it out just a little bit longer. Weigh your options, just know, pudding puss, you can’t do any better.”
Instead of responding, I go back to packing up, which is less packing and more of me moving things around and busying myself since I’ve already packed all my things.
“So, how long have you been styling hair?”
Ugh, small talk. I hate small talk.
“Long enough to get me this job.”
“I see.” He steps closer, closing in on what little space is between us. There is a tap on my shoulder and when I turn around, he’s inches away, holding out his apple. “Want a bite?”
Eyeing the half-eaten fruit, I shake my head. “Do you really think I would want to share your half-eaten apple?”
He shrugs casually. “I don’t know. Might be sexy, you know, having both our mouths on it and all. If you want, I can go all Lady and the Tramp on you and we can both nibble on it, meeting in the middle.” Suggestively, he wiggles his eyebrows at me.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I tilt my head to the side and study him. “You really don’t give up, do you? Even when it’s obvious I have no intentions of sleeping with you.”
My heart catches in my throat as he lifts his hand and tucks a stray hair behind my ear before cupping my jaw, his face turning serious. “This isn’t just about sleeping with you, Melony. This is about getting to know you; when I find something I like, I go after it.” Why does the sudden intensity and timbre of his voice send unwanted tingles south? Why? Why can’t he be hideously unattractive?
Swallowing a little nervously, I respond, “Even if it’s un-gettable?” Please back off. Please back off.
“If the end result is you? Then yes.” Fuck.
Winking, he drops his hand from my jaw, bites into his apple, and parts from our close proximity, leaving me feeling slightly charged, a feeling I don’t want.
“Catch you around, neighbor,” he calls out.
God, he is sexy, I will give him that.
His retreating back gives me an amazing view of that bubble ass of his. If he didn’t just admit to wanting to get to know me, I just might have considered jumping in bed with him for a one-time night of what I can only imagine being hours upon hours of pleasure.
Too bad I don’t do relationships. Will never do relationships. I’ll never be that naïve girl.