All The Pretty Lights (The "A" List #1) (15 page)

“Why—why do I feel like crap?” Actually, I feel like I’ve been run over by a Mack truck. Beep. Beep. Beep. “And what’s that
beeping
sound?”

His lips touch my forehead and I can hear him exhale as if the weight of the world has just been taken off his shoulders. “You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice again. You gave me such a scare.”

What the hell is he talking about?

Ow!

My shoulder begins to pulse as I roll slightly to face him. “What—what’s going on, Colt? Why are we sleeping? We’re going to miss the premiere.”

His chest quakes as if what I’ve said is funny somehow. “Baby, I don’t give a flying fuck about the premiere. All I care about right now is you getting better.”

He’s really starting to scare me now. “Colt, what are you talking about?”

“Tell me the last thing you remember, Daph.” He asks.

Um, okay…. “I-I was dreaming. The night in Moscow, when you took me to that underground club, I was dreaming you told me you--”

I stop myself mid sentence.
What am I saying?
I can’t tell him about the dream. I can’t tell him I pictured him telling me he loved me.

“That I
love
you?” He whispers.

I gasp.

“It
wasn’t
a dream. I
did
tell you I loved you. I didn’t have the guts to tell you straight out, so I told you when you were drunk and wouldn’t remember. But I don’t care anymore. I’ll tell you now, I’ll tell you tomorrow, and I’ll tell you ten years from now, Daphne Baker. I love you. I’m head over heels in love with you, and it’s crazy, and it doesn’t make sense, and it’s too soon, and I don’t deserve you, and
every
bit of that is all true. But I love you, I do.”

This can’t be real, this can’t actually be
happening
! Colton Webb just told me he loved me.

“Well,” I purr. “Since I must still be dreaming and you won’t remember any of this, then it’s safe to tell you that I love
you
, too.”

“Baby,” he’s laughing,

“Hmm?” I snuggle in closer, despite the pain in my shoulder. That’s interesting. How am I feeling pain in a dream?

“You’re not dreaming, Daph, and I
will
remember it. But, more importantly, I’ll make sure
you
never forget it.”

His lips find mine and rest on them, moving slower than I want, drawing out a deep, tormenting kiss with his mouth burying itself in mine.

Colt’s hands hold tightly onto me, covering me with his broad shoulders.

Beep. Beep. Beep
.

Pulling my lips away, I ask again, “What’s that beeping sound?”

His shoulders deflate. “It’s a
long
story.”

~*~

Maui

“I can’t believe how beautiful this place is!” I’m almost at a loss for words as I lean against the railing, taking in the setting sun in the horizon.

I may be a New York girl, but we definitely
don’t
have sunsets like this back home. I hate to even ask how much this place costs, as these views are worth millions.

“Simply breathtaking.” Colt walks up behind me, sweeping my hair off to the side, and beginning to explore my neck with his wet lips.

I playfully jab him in the rib with my good elbow. “I’m
talking
about the
sunset
. You’re not even watching it!”

His lips quiver against the ticklish skin behind my ear. “Oh, yeah. That’s nice, too.”

My head shakes. I can’t believe he’s missing this! He can kiss my neck anytime he wants, but how often do you get to see a sunset like this? I need to take myself out of the equation. Rolling away from him, I force him to concentrate on the view and not me.

I suck in sharply, “Ssss…”

“How’s your arm?” He sounds concerned.

The tight sling that’s wrapped around my right arm is cumbersome and I’m counting down the days until I can stop wearing it.

I smile. “It’s better, really.” He doesn’t look convinced. “I’m serious, Colt. It’s… better.”

Carefully, he wraps his arms around me. “I know this is hard on you, Daph. The doctor says it can come off in a couple of weeks, and then it’ll be as good as new. You can even get back to designing.”

The toughest thing about the recovery is not being able to use my arm for more than a few minutes at a time,
any
part of my arm, even my hand. Too bad I’m a right-handed person. I haven’t been able to do more than ten minutes of sketching at a time before the pain sets in.

It sucks, but I don’t complain about it. It could have been a lot worse, I know. I escaped death with nothing more than a few bruises and a fractured elbow from ramming myself up against the sauna door over and over again while trapped.

Other than asking about my shoulder multiple times a day, we’re careful not to talk about the “accident” that much.

That’s what I call it. The “accident.”

We don’t need to talk about it, because it’s talked about enough by everybody else. The accident has been in every newspaper, magazine, blog, gossip site and talk show for the last two weeks. So much so, that I’ve given up on watching television for the time being.

Every report would have some new piece of information. Audrey’s investigation, her claims of innocence, the video footage showing her leaving the spa, montages of the relationship that went bad between her and Colt, other montages of our own love story. It’s all too much.

Besides the social media coverage of it, I’ve also had to deal with the investigators. I can’t tell you
how
many times I’ve had to recount what happened that day, or what I can remember of it anyway.

And what I can’t remember, I’m able to see whenever I want on YouTube, where my rescue has been immortalized on video. I can watch Colt frantically hold onto me and call out for help any old time I want. Isn’t that great?
Just
the kind of thing a person would want to see.

Colt’s done his best to keep everything at a distance, especially while I was recuperating. With everything that’s happened, the studio made the decision to pull Audrey from the press tour. Colt and I skipped the last two premieres, missing Melbourne, Australia and Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

We’d used that time, the full two weeks, to shutter in and enjoy the time in seclusion. That is, until tonight.

Tomorrow night is the very last of the premieres, the very last red carpet for TIME COP. The movie has grossed enough to break countless records, and the studio was reluctant to pull the plug on the planned sequel, but knew they had little choice. The starlet of the movie is facing jail time as well as a public backlash, and Colt flat out
refused
to have anything to do with it.

Luckily enough for Justin, the turn of events has proven to be his big break. Colt pitched an idea to the executive producer for the sequel to be a spin off for Justin’s character in the franchise.

So TIME COP TWO will be Justin’s very first leading role. I’m so happy for him. He’s a good guy.

With Colt’s schedule now open, he’s been able to commit to a romantic comedy that will be shooting in Vermont about a ski instructor who decides to open up a winter resort.

Andrea had secured the role for him, and the movie is supposed to be huge, maybe even bigger than TIME COP. It’s a good thing for
everyone,
including Andrea, who just started the brand new production company that will be producing the comedy.

“Happy?” Colt asks me.

Breathing deeply, I lean against him, taking in the last bit of sun before the arch of it dips below the ocean that we gaze out upon. “More than I ever thought possible. You?”

His voice quakes, full of emotion. “More than I deserve.”

I love him, truly, I do. But I wish he would stop being as self-depreciating about himself as he is. He always says things like that, things about how he doesn’t deserve this, or how he’s a changed man.

As far as I’m concerned, he has nothing that he has to change
from
.

He’s a good man, has a good heart, even if he needs a little
guidance
every once in a while.

Once the last light fades away, the chirping and buzzing begins, with night about to set in.

“Come on, we’ll get all bitten up if we stay out here.” Colt takes my hand in his and raises it to his slightly parted lips, kissing the skin softly in a promising way to coerce me to follow.

I don’t need much coercion though. I already know what I want, without him having to lay bait. I’m curious to see if he’s game or not.

The rental house is modern, large and very, very secluded. With the ocean behind us and no real neighbors on either side, we’ve been living our lives in complete freedom for these last few days. No inhibitions, no reservations, no fame. Just Colt and Daphne.

“No,” I make him pause before swiping at the light switch on the near wall.

The setting sun leaves nothing but shadows in the darkened house. I can see him, his silhouette, and move towards it. The broadness of his shoulders, the rippled bulges of his arms, the sharp edge of his jaw- these stand out against the backdrop and beckon me.

His body is perfect, a shrine to the work and dedication he puts forth in maintaining it. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the fruits of his labor, and I plan on enjoying them again now.

My palm finds his chest, flattening against the warm skin of his naked flesh peeking through the cotton shirt casually left open. Small, perfectly manicured strands of curly hair tickle the underside of my hand as it trails leisurely across the width of him, from one rounded pec to the other.

I feel him react to me, feel the bud of his nipple tighten and peak itself as I circle around it lazily with my fingertips. The hiss of breath takes echoes through the dark around us when I take that taught nub between my lips, massaging it with my mouth, flicking the very tip with my tongue.

His body stiffens, struggling to keep still as I have my way with him, enjoying every drop of torment that I deliver. The first rays of moonlight are now creeping across the floor, adding a sultry darkened hue to the room. Without sight to rely on, I use my other senses to steer me. His quiet breathing amplifies intensely, with the swooshing of his breaths somehow keeping time with my own pulse, synching as one.

Growing restless, his hands move to explore. First my sides, then my lower back, and finally, my rounded backside. Strong kneading warms the area, radiating heat through the thin cotton shift dress I wear.

The lacing of the waist of his board shorts proves easy enough to maneuver, untying the knot that held them in place. I can still smell the ocean on his skin, the earthy freshness overtaking his natural musk. Breathing in deep, I make a memory of our days lazily lying under the sun and swimming in the depths of the blue crystalline water, and of the nights spent wrapped around each other as if woven together.

I’ve come to realize that despite the craziness that surrounds us in the outside world, we’re perfectly content with just each other.

His careful steps lead us to the large linen couch centered in the room, facing the expansive windows showcasing the breathtaking view beyond. The fabric of his swim trunks falls victim to the pull of gravity, making their way lower on his legs until they are nothing more than a pile of crumpled material that he steps out of as we reach the cushioned sofa. Taking my hand, he helps me situate myself on his lap, hugging his outer thighs with my knees when he leans back into the deep-seated furniture.

Our lips are locked together, moving only to massage those of the other’s. I can feel the soft gauzy lining of my panties begin to dampen from his touch as they are gingerly swept aside to allow passage.

The velvety-coned tip of his rock hard need is swollen, eager to take the place it fills so well. His length glides into place, hitting the delicious hiding places he’s discovered and proven able to find again and again.

We rock together slowly, with each movement encompassing so much more than just a physical act.

I can’t see him well, yet I know I’m staring into his soul.

And it’s staring back into mine.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

COLT

I can’t stop my leg from twitching restlessly, like a jittery tick.

“What are you so nervous for?” Daphne notices the involuntary movement.

I force myself to still, knowing that she’s already grown suspicious today. Due to a plane delay, her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Baker, are running dangerously late and compromising my carefully planed surprise. Well, technically it’s Albert’s surprise as he was the one to arrange almost everything for me. He’s been an absolute crazy person these last few hours while trying to make adjustments to pull off a last minute Hail Mary game saving move to keep this thing from falling apart.

One small slip, and this carefully orchestrated and timed event could crumple like a house of cards. Knowing Albert, it would be a very pretty set of pink sparkly cards, but a mess all the same.

The covert maneuvering hasn’t gone completely unnoticed by Daphne, although she’s been kept busy enough with preparing for the premiere tonight. With her arm still sore, she’s had to rely on Tracy to help put the finishing touches on the gown she’d designed for herself for tonight.

I could sit and watch her for hours as she sketches out her designs, furiously working to bring the penciled image to life on the page. I’m amazed at how she does it, how she brings such passion and intensity to it. When she begins to create a design, it’s as if nothing else exists to her. She finds a way to detach herself and concentrate solely on the piece of art under the tip of her pencil.

It’s in those moments that I can carefully study her, memorize every little detail, like how she cocks her head to the side while biting her lip when she’s unsure of the colors to use. Or how she taps her fingernails softly on the tabletop, keeping time with some song she silently mouths the words to as she decides whether or not her creation is finished.

I know the way she tucks her spare pencil behind her ear to switch out the second the tip of the one in her hand loses its point and becomes dull. I especially love the way she’ll use the pad of her finger to smudge the colors, blending them, only to then absentmindedly touch her face, her clothes, marking herself with little bits of her art.

The thing I love most though is how in those moments she’s perfectly happy, content. She’s found the thing that brings her peace, the thing she was
meant
to do.

Tonight, seeing that creation take form around her body and come to life from the page of her sketchpad, is surreal. She’s an artist, and right now her body has become her canvas, showcasing what has to be the most exquisite design she’s ever made.

The eyes of every person we see admire the gown, studying each and every detail of the flowing dress. She deserves every bit of attention that dress is going to earn her tonight, and I know each and every one of the photographers waiting outside of our car will immortalize this moment for her.

“I’m not nervous,” I try to convince her although I truly feel that I can’t contain the excitement building in me despite all of the acting skills I’m using to mask it. “I’m just anxious. We haven’t seen press since South Africa. I don’t want you to get overwhelmed.”

That part is true. Request after request for interviews, statements and appearances have come pouring in, with fans dying to know how Daphne’s been doing. I’ve left Andrea in charge of releasing information, but tonight there’ll be no barrier between Daphne and the media, no way to protect her.

Infatuation isn’t even the word to describe the way the public has taken to Daphne, especially since the leaked video of her being found unconscious went viral. She’s become everyone’s daughter, sister, and best friend. They all want to dress like her, to talk like her, to act like her, to
be
her.

The intensity of the adoration for Daphne has only seemed to be rivaled by the loathing the public feels toward Audrey. The police may not have had enough concrete evidence to charge Audrey with a crime, but her punishment has certainly been swift and severe.

The only thing the public loves more than worshipping a person… is hating them. Overnight, my ex girlfriend has lost everything. Endorsements, roles, support. Everything that
shouldn’t
matter has been taken from her. With it all gone, she has nothing left, because she had nothing of
real
value, of
substance
in her life.

That was the life she created. Everything was an act, a scene. Well, now the cameras have stopped rolling and she’s left with an empty stage and no one to watch it. That’s the greatest punishment she could ever have to endure. And not necessarily because of what she did to Daphne, but because she built such a shallow existence, lying, manipulating, cheating and bullying her way through life.

Now she can pick up the pieces and maybe put them together in a way that will actually
mean
something. Or maybe not. That’s
her
journey, and I’m not a part of it anymore. I’ve got my own journey, my own life to lead, and soon, I plan on asking Daphne to bind her
own
journey to it.

I haven’t met Daphne’s parents in person yet, although I’ve spent countless hours on the telephone and messaging with them, especially through Daphne’s recovery.

I’d offered to send a private plane to bring them to their daughter while she was recovering, but Daphne had refused, not wanting her parents to put their lives on hold to come “watch her sleep” as she put it.

I’ve held the secret of the family reunion Albert and I have planned from her, and without it I probably would have pressed for her parents to have come earlier. But knowing that they would be here tonight to see her well and recovered was enough for me.

I’ve been rehearsing the speech I plan to give her father for days. He knows how special his daughter is, how much she deserves in life. I will do everything in my power to be worthy of her and make her happy.

I hope he’ll see how sincere I am, how seriously I will take our vows. I pray that he will give me his blessing to ask her to take those vows with me. The delicate little box in my pocket yearns to be opened, to be claimed as hers if she’ll accept it. In less than a couple of hours I hope the shiny token of our love will take its place on her finger.

Until that moment is here I won’t be able to calm myself, to believe that this could really happen, that she could really be mine.

I know I’ve done some pretty terrible things. I know I’ve lived in a way that hasn’t earned me the right of a woman like her. That doesn’t mean I want it any less though.

Albert gives me the thumbs up from the front seat, our signal that everything is in place. I exhale, knowing that the moment has come. My door is opened, with Marcus standing close.

The crowd goes wild, a frenzy taking hold as they inch closer and closer, threatening to topple the red velvet roped barrier. They call her name, they call my own. Holding her arm, I lead her, waving as we begin out journey down the red carpet.

She smiles, blushing from the attention.

I see the couple, the man and woman standing at the exact spot we’d planned on. She hasn’t seen them yet, hasn’t noticed them looking at her, seen the pride in their eyes.

I don’t say anything, instead I watch anxiously for the moment when she finally spots them, blinking her eyes heavily as if she’s seeing a mirage.

“Wha--” she swallows hard. “How?”

Leaning down, I whisper in her ear. “Surprise.”

“M—mom? Dad?” Her voice is shaky. She hasn’t seen her parents since the night before we’d left New York almost two months ago. “Mom! Dad!”

Her hand releases mine and she runs to them, swooping her arms wide to embrace them both. Happy tears begin to flow from mother and daughter alike, I can even see a glimmer in her dad’s own eyes.

No one rushes their reunion. Not me, not the reporters. The moment is captured on film, with flashes bursting from all directions.

The brightest light of all though? That’s coming from her, radiating for only me to see.

~*~

DAPHNE

I can’t seem to stop grinning!

I look ridiculous, like a Cheshire cat. Can’t
wait
to see what those pictures look like.

“There. Better.” Mom finished touching up her mascara, making sure to have taken away all of the little smudges her tears have made.

We look at each other’s reflection. “Much,” I agree.

“Ready?” She asks, closing the small black evening bag she’s carrying.

“You go ahead. Dad’s waiting right outside. I’m just gonna use the,” I point to the large stall nearby.

Mom laughs and then reaches in to kiss me once again before moving to leave the room and join Colt and daddy in the lobby. This dress won’t exactly be easy to work around, but I should be able to, carrying the train to prevent it from dragging on the mosaic tile floor before locking the oversized stall door behind me.

Contorting, I reach and tuck and do everything I can think of to safely arrange the dress in a way as not to dirty it. It’s no easy feat, especially with a sore arm, but I manage.

I know Colt has use of a private room, but I’m not above using the public ladies’ room. The last think I want mom and dad to think is that I’ve let all of this go to my head. I’m still the same old Daphne I always was, a kid from the suburbs of NYC with parents that wouldn’t think twice of giving me a healthy reminder if it seemed I’d forgotten my roots.

The ladies’ room door opens and closes with a flurry of excited voices entering the otherwise empty room. Their voices echo and bounce off the tiled walls. I can’t help but overhear as I begin the monumental task of situating my dress back into place.

“I can’t believe this is your last event as PR, Andrea!”

The sink faucet is turned on, with the whoosh of running water now being added to the mix.

I know that a restroom isn’t a proper place to congratulate a person, but I haven’t had a chance to see Andrea in person since having heard the news myself last week, so I hurry to be able to join them and congratulate Colton’s PR specialist myself. As soon as this event is over, she’ll no longer be known as a PR rep, but instead, as an executive producer.

I fasten the last closure of my dress and move to open the metal locked handle of the stall door.

“I can’t believe you really pulled it off!” The stranger’s voice adds.

I don’t know why, but instinct tells me not to interrupt them just yet.

Andrea’s own voice finally joins in. “I told you it would work out. I have too much riding on this for it not to happen. Everything kind of fell into place.”

She’s cryptic enough to leave me confused, but listening.

“But I’m glad I don’t have to do this shit anymore. Cleaning up other people’s messes, doing all the hard work and not getting any of the reward. At least now
I’ll
be able to call the shots, rather than have these whiny little brats make me jump through hoops to save their asses. I never even get a thank you, you know that?”

Andrea’s companion adds a sarcastic “No?”

Andrea snorts a laugh. “Nope. Although this last one, I can’t really blame Colt. He doesn’t know, not like he’d have the decency to thank me if he
did
.”

“I don’t think he’d
thank you
for almost killing his girlfriend though.” The other woman corrects her.

Andrea clucks her tongue. “Oh, please. She was fine. People stage a lot worse to get even a fraction of the press that those two got from all that. Sometimes you’ve got to get your hands a little dirty. Besides, the end justifies the means. Colt knows the game, he knows how things are done. He wanted out of making TIME COP TWO?
I
made it happen. He wanted Audrey out of his life and for him to be out from under her shadow?
I
made it happen. He wanted that girl to go away with him, to be right there whenever and wherever he wanted her?
I
made it happen.
I’m
the one who did it all, who took the initiative to actually get shit done. Although, I had my doubts. She’s a smart girl, I never really imagined that she’d believe she was being hired as a stylist for an “A” list celebrity like Colt Webb. But she did. She’s never even had a
real
design job and she believed she was just going to pick up and trot all over the globe styling one of the most famous people in the world. It paid off, though. Colt got what he wanted and so did I.”

My heart pounds in my chest as I listen to the evidence. I want to storm out of this stall and rail into her, but I hold back. My finger hovers over the record button on my phone, waiting to end the confession. When I was designing the dress, I’d second guessed including the hidden cell phone pocket in the flowy skirt. Now I’m grateful that I had done it as it was super easy to grab the device and start the recording the second Andrea’s conversation had warranted it.

Once that’s done, there’s no holding me back.

“Besides, there was no real harm done. Audrey’s had this coming for a
long
time. She’s walked around like a goddamned princess for the past four years. It was time someone brought her down a peg or two.”