Flirting With First Page 7

  A pleased color flooded her face. “Thank you.” She lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not really complaining that you want to take me to my room…”

  He sucked in a breath. “Trista…”

  She held up a hand. “I know. Ryker, I know. Believe me.”

  Amused, he chuckled. “Do I sense a little frustration coming from your direction?”

  She didn’t answer. They stepped into an elevator with five other people and rode up in silence. But she clutched his hand with both of hers, and he suspected she was still pretty shaken up by the mugging. At last they reached the top floor, alone, and he walked her to her room.

  She stopped in front of a door. “You can come in, even if just for a minute.”

  He shook his head slowly. “Will you be alright? I’ll come in if you need some company for a little bit.” He didn’t want tonight to go anywhere too quickly. But he was worried about her, and he felt terrible about leaving her here alone after their experience.

  “I’ll be just fine. I’m going right to sleep, and I’ll see you for lunch tomorrow handsome.” She stepped closer and ran a hand up his chest. “I didn’t know you were so strong.”

  “What?” He laughed.

  “And brave. You handled all that like it was nothing, Ryker. Wow.”

  He lifted the corner of his mouth. “You liked that?”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  He pulled her up against him, grinning down into her face. “I was worried about you. That could have gone in every wrong direction.”

  “But it didn’t.” She drank in his face, her eyes full of admiration, and questions.

  He grinned, suddenly wanting nothing more than to answer a few of them. He ran his hands up her arms, slowly, gently, pleased that a row of goosebumps followed. He’d wanted nothing more than to take things to another level with Trista. She was remarkable to him, talented strong, smart, funny, caring. Were they a good fit? One way to find out.

  She tipped her face up to him.

  “Now, how about that first base?”

  “What’s it gonna take, Rabbit?” She lifted her chin and stood up on her toes. This beautiful, fun, engaging woman was into him. At last, he thought they had a chance. Her full lips were parted slightly, and her eyes fluttered closed.

  Ryker hesitated, a half breath, and then pressed his lips to her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open, the disappointment obvious. But he wasn’t finished. He kissed her temple, her cheek. Then he lowered his mouth to her jawline, pressing his teeth against the softness of her earlobe. She sighed and clutched his arms. His hand moved to her hair, behind her neck. When her face once again lifted, he smiled into her gorgeous eyes and then he pressed his lips to hers. Their softness invited more, and he was soon lost to such a delicious exploration he forgot where he was. He wrapped her in his arms and wanted nothing more than to lift her off her feet and kiss her forever. But he kept himself in check, slowed his motion, and then, at length, stopped.

  Her heavy, breathless sigh almost made him lose his resolve to say goodnight. But she kissed his cheek and opened her door. “That was some first base.”

  He laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  When the door shut, he walked away in a daze. He’d kissed Trista McKinney. The real woman. And he’d liked it. A lot.

  Chapter 9

  Trista waited long enough for Ryker to be far down the hallway, and then she squealed. “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh!” She paced around the room. “I sound like a teenager!” She laughed. “I feel like a teenager.” She wanted to tell someone, anyone. Ryker had kissed her! Finally!

  She plopped down on her bed. I’ve got no one to tell. She never felt as lonely as she did when she had good news, and this news was spectacular! How could she be so into a man she’d never really dated? Except tonight of course. And he’d promised her lunch with his sister tomorrow and their first official date this next week. So, yes, she could be into him. She squealed again. And they were going somewhere. This wasn’t a publicity date. It wasn’t just for the cameras; he wasn’t after anything. He was sincerely and truly into her.

  She headed for the bathroom. As the water warmed up, steaming the bathroom mirrors, the events of the evening came rushing back to her in a flood. Her heart rate picked up. She’d been terrified. And Ryker… Now she knew what people were talking about when their men turned fierce. She’d never seen such a fearsome glint light a man’s face as it had Ryker’s when the man held out a knife. Instinctually, he’d moved Trista behind. His muscles had tensed as he stood on the balls of his feet, poised. For the first time, she’d witnessed his raw power. Just thinking about it again made her curl her toes against the tile floor of the bathroom.

  After her shower, when she was tucked into bed, she pulled out her laptop and her phone. She needed to start going over scenes and running through lines to prepare for her coming rehearsals.

  As soon as she turned on her phone, it dinged like crazy. “Oh dear.” No one texted her except for business. Early on in her career, Quinn and her publicist had warned her to be careful with her texting and emails. Screenshots were easy to blast everywhere. And really, people mostly found her awkward, at least if she relaxed enough to be herself. If she kept up her movie star act, the friendship was exhausting.

  Ryker texted, Goodnight, beautiful.

  She held the phone to her heart. “Goodnight,” she whispered.

  Then she opened the other messages. There was a whole stream from her agent. She shook her head and called Quinn.

  She answered on the first ring. “Trista. Are you alright?”

  “Yeah, I’m great. I didn’t read your messages. It seemed like a whole script, and I’ve already got one I need to memorize.”

  “Very funny. I’m just happy you’re okay.” There was a pause. “We’ll talk about the damage control later.”

  She sounded more concerned than Trista thought the situation merited. “I feel like I’m missing something here, maybe catch me up?”

  “Oh, Tris. Okay. The press went wild. You should probably do a few searches. But they’re talking about you and the baseball hottie quite a bit. And about seeing you in Trevor’s arms the same night. The media version isn’t too flattering, but it’s nothing we can’t overcome. Getting two guys in one night is quite a notch on your belt, if you know what I mean.”

  She wondered if Quinn ever listened to himself speak. “Quinn, that’s so not me.”

  “You can be whatever you want on your own time, but my job is to manage your public image, right?”

  She guessed so. She didn’t answer. But she opened her laptop and typed her name into a search. Then she groaned. “Where do they even come up with this stuff?”

  “While you catch yourself up to speed, let’s plan lunch for next week. We’ve got to strategize. Trevor and his agent, Bryan, can come too.”

  “You know, I never had a public strategy plan for Trevor. You worked that out without telling me, and I’m not okay with it.”

  “Well, a baseball pro—and one of the Six Pack at that—isn’t bad either, you know? Should we switch gears to him?”

  “No. I’m not using my relationship with Ryker to push forward my career.”

  “Oooh. So, you have a relationship now?”

  She clenched her fists. “We don’t know what we have. But that’s besides the point. It’s not for public consumption.”

  “Honey, it’s already being consumed. Ravenously. We’ve got Team Ryker and Team Trevor all over the place.”

  She hung her head in her hands. “That’s fine. It’s whatever. I don’t care what they think.”

  “You don’t have to. That’s my job.”

  “Okay, let’s meet next week.” She could explain a couple things to all three of them, set some boundaries, and make sure her relationship or whatever she had with Ryker was off the table. Nothing would ruin them faster than a huge press blowout.

  She scrolled through the rest of her messages. Bree.

  I’m
still on for tomorrow, you?

  Yes, Bree. I need this.

  Yeah, I thought you might.

  Trista smiled. Okay, let’s go get beautiful.

  You’re on.

  Was Bree her first friend? A seventeen-year-old? She was okay with that. And then she’d have lunch with Ryker. Her stomach clenched a little at the thought. What will he think about all the press? She hadn’t even read it all yet. What was the overall press opinion—Ryker or Trevor? Would he care?

  She fell asleep reading crazy assumptions from over-zealous fans about who she should be with. When they supported Ryker, she loved them. When they preferred Trevor, she wanted to comment like a troll.

  She woke up the next morning, tense. Her dreams had been a mess. Like her life.

  “No.” Her life was amazing. She could still feel Ryker’s kiss from the night before. She smiled. And because of that, nothing else in the world could be that messed up. No matter what her meeting with her agent was like next week. No matter what the fans were doing. No matter how annoying Trevor had been by showing up last night. Ryker had kissed her, and everything was okay.

  Today was going to be a beautiful day full of Ryker and his sister. Her grin spread across her face, and she felt foolish walking around her hotel room, grinning for no one.

  But that’s just it. She was grinning for herself. It didn’t matter if no one saw, because these smiles were for only one person—herself. She spun in a circle and spread her arms as wide as they would go. Her phone rang. Bree.

  “Hi, Bree!”

  “Hey, Trista. Listen, Ryker said he’s sending a car and a few guys for you.”

  “What? I can drive.”

  “He wants to make sure you’re safe. In case people show up, you know, for pictures of you or something.” She laughed like she was uncomfortable.

  “What?” Ugh. Her stomach dropped. She’d avoided a huge paparazzi following until now.

  Bree laughed again. “Honestly, I bet it’s nothing. But Ryker’s gone into huge protect-o mode—he’s coming with us to all our appointments now.”

  “What!” She laughed. “Maybe he can redo his highlights.” She refused to let the press get to her and ruin her day. “You know what, Bree, I’m so excited about today. I’ve been looking at some stuff, and I have the perfect look for you. You ready for this?”

  “I totally am.”

  She texted a few pictures and held her breath.

  Bree sent a whole line of happy emojis. “Thank you.” She squealed. “These are fun!”

  “You bet! I’m having a blast dreaming up all the options and besides, I’ve gotta get ready for another movie shoot.” They’d probably erase and redo whatever Trista tried on herself, but she didn’t need to tell Bree that. “I’m gonna hang up so I can get dressed. I guess I’ll see you guys downstairs in thirty minutes?”

  She and Bree ended the call. She didn’t have time to sift through a whole bunch of news about herself. But she needed to quickly check what was going on. After a few clicks, from what she could tell, there was still some chatter about team Trevor or team Ryker but nothing new. She shrugged.

  Bree and Ryker pulled up in front of the hotel right on the half-hour. Ryker hopped out to hold her door, and she had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, he looked so good. When she reached the car, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “It’s good to see you.” His shirt fit him just right, his pants hugged his hips, and his newly shaven jawline welcomed her lips like she’d imagined nearly all night long.

  “You too.” That’s all that would come out of her mouth. Two words. She climbed in, and Ryker ran around to enter on the other side.

  She reached over and hugged Bree hello. Ryker looked better than the last time she’d seen him. Somehow his shoulders had broadened, or maybe he just seemed stronger after he’d saved her from the knife guy.

  “I think we’ll do hair first, if that’s okay.”

  Bree nodded. “Do you have any thoughts about which look is best?”

  “Oh, I’ve got ideas. You’re gonna look stunning.” Trista pulled out her phone. “I was asking my stylist, and she said with your face shape and coloring, we could do any of these styles and you’d look fantastic.”

  Bree’s eyes lit up. “I love all of these.” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, except that one.” The short pixie cut looked adorable on the model, but Trista agreed. It wasn’t right for Bree.

  “And she suggested several different color combinations.”

  They talked, and Trista drank in the girl time. This was different than talking with her stylist, different than her makeup designer. Bree was becoming her friend. And the experience was like nothing she’d had in a long, long time. If ever.

  Every time she glanced at Ryker, he was watching them and smiling. Trista felt tingly all over just because he was near.

  The salon made a big deal about their visit. And Ryker decided to make the most of the time for his hair too. The stylist brought out some foils for him, and he shrugged. “Might as well.”

  Trista laughed. He was so her crowd. Only she wasn’t really her crowd. The irony of their new relationship, where he fit better in the movie world than she did, made her smile.

  Neither Ryker nor Bree mentioned the media craze. Maybe it wasn’t as big a deal as Quinn had made it out to be. She eyed Ryker, foils sticking out all over his head. Maybe he was used to the scene and didn’t let it bother him. She’d have to ask at lunch.

  Bree’s face was calm, but her fingers were twisting and turning in her lap.

  “It’s gonna be beautiful.” Trista smiled at her.

  “I’m sure it will.” She sighed. “I’m just not used to this, you know? When I walk into school with a new hairstyle, everyone’s gonna look at me.” She laughed. “This won’t make sense to you at all because of what you do, but I don’t like attention.”

  Trista wished she could lean over and squeeze Bree’s hand. “Bree, I totally know what you mean.”

  “You do?”

  Trista could almost feel Ryker’s interest in their conversation.

  “Well sure. Acting isn’t always about attention. Lots of people look at me, sure, but I’m not there when they’re doing it.”

  Bree stared at her for a minute. “I never thought about it that way, but you’re right.”

  Trista nodded. “I’ve been wanting to try out some live theater since I’m in Manhattan so much. So far, it’s terrifying.” She cleared her throat. “And really cool. I love it, in a weird, sadistic kind of way.”

  Bree’s smile grew. “So, what do you do for all the photo shoots and the red carpet stuff?”

  “Panic.” Her eyes flitted to Ryker and back. “That’s why I was so grateful your brother showed up at my last one. It’s nice to have a strong arm to lean on too.”

  They finished with Bree, and Trista couldn’t wait for her to see the results. Her hair had fun honey-colored highlights and the tiniest touch of red. It made her eyes pop and her lips look fuller. When she turned around in her chair to look in the mirror, Bree couldn’t speak.

  “You okay, honey?” Trista got worried with the continued silence.

  Ryker leaned over so he could see her face in the mirror. Then Bree’s eyes welled up.

  “Oh no, Bree. We can fix it. What don’t you like?”

  She shook her head. “I love it.” She turned this way and that. The stylist handed her a hand mirror. “It’s awesome. And simple enough I could style it myself, you know?”

  “I know exactly.” Trista felt her heart calm.

  Ryker winked at her. “Looking good, Bree.”

  She nodded then turned to Trista. “Thank you so much for all of this.”

  Gratified, Trista took a picture on her phone. “I love it. It’s so you. That’s the best part. I feel like I’m looking at my friend Bree.”

  They finished up with hair and moved on to nails and makeup. Everyone got manicures and pedicures, and they did a whole makeover on Bree�
��s face.

  Ryker sat next to Trista in the big massage chairs, with his feet soaking. “She never wears makeup at all that I can tell, and she’s beautiful. What’s going to happen when she actually makes an effort?”

  “Oh stop. Like you said, she’s already beautiful.”

  But when they finished with Bree, even Trista had to suck in her breath. “Oh, honey. You are stunning.”

  Ryker’s mouth fell open. “Maybe we’ll tone it down a little for school.”

  “Stop.” Trista swatted at him.

  “Well, look at her. She’s stunning. I know high school guys.”

  “And what does that have to do with Bree? Nothing. She shouldn’t have to dim her light just ‘cause some guy can’t handle her new look.”

  Bree’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, I like that.”

  “Besides, we haven’t even bought her new clothes yet.”

  Ryker groaned.

  “What do you want from us?” Trista raised her eyebrows, waiting.

  “Nothing.”

  “I thought you were excited about all this.”

  “I am, I promise. You know I always think it’s best to present yourself in the best possible way.”

  They waited. Trista was amused at Bree’s determination.

  “Nothing. You’re right. Look your best. Blow them all away. And don’t be surprised when all the boys in your life find themselves completely tongue tied or blowing up your DMs.”

  Bree’s face flushed, and Trista thought her even more charming.

  They went shopping and finished out their day with lunch.

  Bree changed into one of her outfits. “There’s a group getting together tonight at a club.”

  “Whoa now. A club?” Ryker asked.

  “It’s the Paradise Cove.”

  Trista waited for Ryker to firmly shut down the idea. She’d have to agree on this one. Seventeen seemed young for clubbing.

  But Ryker nodded. Then he eyed Trista. “Wanna go clubbing?”

  She opened her mouth to question the whole plan.

  But Bree laughed. “It’s church clubbing. It’s just an activity with the youth group—we’ve rented out a place.”