That Wild Player, page 20
I check my phone again, but nothing from CJ. He has to know it’s my birthday. He has to. A guy doesn’t spend the time and effort to hack into a girl’s dating accounts without at least knowing her birthday. Right?
When the party finally winds down around nine—mainly due to my broad hinting rather than people wanting to leave—I sit down and sigh. Jan, Matt, Sammi and Luke are the only ones left. “What do you want to do with the leftover cake?” Luke asks.
“Toss it,” I say at the same time Sammi says, “Save it.”
“Just…take it with you,” I say. Then I sigh again.
“Are you all right?” Jan asks.
“I’m fine.” I smile. How do I tell your best friends who took the time to throw you a nice bash that you didn’t really care for the party? That would be positively rude. “Just tired.”
“You’re having brunch with your parents tomorrow, right?” Sammi asks with a yawn.
“Nope. No brunch this year.” Mom didn’t invite me, and I’m not going. I’m still feeling betrayed. And it’s made worse by the fact that neither Mom nor Dad think it’s necessary to explain anything to me. It’s like my sentiments are irrelevant.
Jan and Sammi exchange a look. I can read their unspoken communication like cartoon bubbles.
Think she’ll be okay on her own?
I don’t know. Maybe one of us should stay.
“No, both of you are going home with your men, while I make use of the massage chair,” I announce. I’m going to be rotten company anyway. Why should Jan and Sammi waste a perfectly fine evening hanging around the townhouse?
They look skeptical, but when I enlist Matt and Luke, they finally leave. Wise men. How come they can figure out what I want better than my friends?
Oh, wait. My interest aligns with theirs. Jan and Sammi haven’t been home before eleven for the last week and a half. Matt and Luke probably don’t want to waste the evening, you know, not having sex.
I make my way over to the massage chair. It’s actually Jan’s—a gift from Alexandra. I sit there and pick an upper-body relaxation course, then close my eyes as the motors start whirring.
When the rollers have traveled up and down along my spine at least five times, I sense somebody walking inside. “I told you to go home,” I say, thinking it’s either Jan or Sammi coming back to check on me. “I’m fine. Go screw your men’s brains out. Matt and Luke probably forgot how to do it due to a lack of practice.”
A soft chuckle. “I’m pretty sure Matt and Luke never had any practice screwing other men.”
I open my eyes. It’s CJ, standing over me, a small, lopsided grin on his lips. I frown, wondering if I’m hallucinating. It is very possible. I’ve had too much sugar and wine, and those two can theoretically make me see things, especially on a day like this. I poke his forearm. Solid. Very real. And suddenly I feel like some electronic gadget that just got a nice charge-up jolt.
“I thought you forgot,” I say.
“Forgot what?”
“My birthday.”
“Nah. Just wanted to wait until everyone was gone.”
“Oh.”
“Besides, you seem to be very fond of nine o’clock or later.”
I flush. “You never seemed very fond of it.”
“I would’ve been fond of it if I weren’t trying to build a Taj Mahal.”
“Isn’t that where some Indian princess is interred?” I remember that much from world history.
CJ laughs. “Is that all you associate with the Taj Mahal?”
“It’s an expensive tomb.”
“And they say men are unromantic. C’mon, get up. I have something to show you.”
“Okay.” I hit the button to end the massage cycle.
He holds my hands and helps me lever myself out of the chair. Then he carefully takes me to the living room and sits me on the couch. He sticks a memory card into the TV and fiddles with the remote until a movie pops up on the screen. It’s a 3D animation, complete with narration, voices and music. It isn’t super slick, like what you’d see from a Hollywood Ryder Reed production or anything, but it’s pretty good.
I laugh when a prince in royal purple shows up with a crown and a sword, but with CJ’s face, cut out from a recent photo.
“Once upon a time…” the narrator begins. It takes me a moment before I recognize the voice as CJ’s, since he’s put a humorous sort of gravity into his delivery. “…there was a prince named CJ. It stood for Caesar Julius. His mother was very fond of Roman history, especially the period with Julius Caesar. Left to her own devices, he would’ve been called Prince Caesar Julius, but since he didn’t want such a ridiculous name, he hid behind his initials and never told anyone if he could help it.”
Ah. Poor guy. I never thought to ask what CJ stood for. It’s sort of sweet he’s telling me now, even if it’s through a movie.
“His mother and father often fought in front of their subjects…and CJ…and they neglected their kingdom, much to the detriment of everyone. Then, one day, they decided they’d had enough and separated, dividing the kingdom between them. Young Caesar Julius dreaded the process, thinking that this would lead to further warfare and petty diplomatic tensions between the two kingdoms. Instead, the king and queen grew closer and became best friends, and their kingdoms prospered individually.
“Then the prince understood marriage was futile and a source of misery. He decided that, when he grew up, he wouldn’t fall into such a trap. He didn’t want to go through what his royal parents had.
“Using that as a guiding principle in his personal life, he lived happily and achieved many successes, enough to make his parents pleased. Then, one day, he met a princess.”
Finally, a 3D female figure in a pink dress with puffy sleeves and a bell-shaped skirt pops up next to CJ. She’s sporting a cutout of my face.
“Princess Michelle didn’t want anything less than commitment and a happily-ever-after, plus the wedding of the century. Prince CJ wanted to convince her otherwise, but she wouldn’t budge…until she was betrayed by her parents, who lied to her about how fabulous their marriage was.
“When Princess Michelle told Prince CJ she wanted what he wanted—just sex without commitment—the prince realized maybe that wasn’t all he wanted. His trusty advisor and prince-next-door Matt said as much—that no prince wanted to commit until he met the right woman.
“Since the princess was using the prince’s very own words against him, the prince had no choice but to do what a man who wanted commitment might do, without the sex part, which resulted in horrible blue balls for the prince.”
The crotch area of the prince’s pants turns bright blue, and a couple of teardrops appear on his face.
I can’t help smirking a bit. “Should’ve come by after nine.”
“Shhh. The movie isn’t over yet.”
The narration continues along with the animation. “The prince also understood that the reason his parents didn’t get along when they’d been married was because they didn’t want to be considerate of each other. Neither liked to defer, they didn’t want to take care of each other, and each only wanted to do what he or she wanted. Unlike his parents, however, the prince enjoyed taking care of the princess when she hurt her dainty little ankle.”
“That’s laying it on pretty thick,” I comment, although keeping my voice dry is damn hard when the animation so damn cute, and the story’s warming my heart like nobody’s business.
“Like I said, the movie isn’t finished,” CJ says.
“So to prove he’s serious, he decides to create a Taj Mahal for her—a monument symbolizing his willingness to commit. Except the prince doesn’t have the time to build an actual Taj Mahal. So he settled for a few all-nighters to create an animated film instead, to be presented to the princess on her birthday.”
Then the movie sort of stops, although the music keeps playing. I turn to CJ. “Now…what?”
“Now we wait for the ending.”
I gesture at the TV. “Isn’t the movie over?”
“Not over. Just unfinished because the prince has no idea what the princess is going to say.” CJ looks deep into my eyes. “Everything in the movie is how I feel about our situation. I started out just wanting sex, but then…it became more. And when I thought about it, it was obvious I wanted more than sex. It just took me a while to figure it all out. Otherwise, I would’ve given up a long time ago. I’ve never, you know, worked for a woman before because nobody was ever worth it.” He slides off the couch and goes on one knee as he takes my hand and looks up at me. “But you…you are. I love you.”
The declaration sucks the breath out of me, and my heart starts to hammer. It takes such bravery to lay it out, no shield, no walls, nothing to protect his pride with. Shaking a little, his thumb strokes the back of my hand, the gesture as tender as a kiss. He clears his throat, his eyes bright and full of yearning. “So what about the princess giving the lonely prince a chance?”
I give him a wobbly smile. “Yes!” I slide off the couch too, making sure to keep my bum ankle out of harm’s way, and fall into his arms. He embraces me, and I realize I miss being held by him so, so much. Kissing him right on the mouth, I whisper, “I love you too.” I loop my arms around his neck. “Now, will you carry me up to my bedroom?”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
CJ
–three months later
Michelle cuddles next to me, the latest romantic comedy on our screen. My arm is around her as she rests her head on my shoulder. The couple in the movie is about to break up. I know it. And the poor guy… I feel bad for him. It’s obvious he really digs the girl.
“That poor sap,” I say.
“Mmm.” Michelle nestles closer, her weight growing heavier and limper.
“He should’ve built a Taj Mahal for her.”
“He isn’t as persistent as you,” she murmurs.
I pull back and look at her. Her eyes are closed, and her breathing’s becoming slower.
“Are you falling asleep?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Hey. You wanted to watch this chick flick.”
“A certain somebody kept me up late…”
“For a good cause.”
“For a good cause.” She lets out a small yawn and smiles.
I run my fingers through her silky, unbound hair, then kiss the crown of her head. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
My heart skips a beat. It’s been three months since she first said the words back to me. I should be used to them, but I’m not. It’s like an electric shock every time, always as strong as the first.
Michelle’s parents never apologized or tried to make things right with Michelle for the way they led her on. I’m not making much of an effort for them either, because that isn’t what Michelle wants. I’m letting her set the pace for everything; she needs time to regroup. And I’d say she’s doing a fabulous job. I’m really proud of her.
We’re going on the cruise Michelle won next week. What she doesn’t know is that I paid to upgrade our cabin to a suite. Or that she and I are flying first class. Or that I reserved the entire solarium garden on the ship and hired a string quartet for a romantic proposal. The garden is going to have two hundred white and pink orchids. It’s a recreation of the pictures I saw in Michelle’s Dream Life and Michelle’s Dream Wedding I and II. I filched them from her box and kept them all. And I plan to consult them from time to time for ideas and inspiration. After all, making Michelle’s fantasies come true is my favorite pastime.
I turn off the TV and pick her up in my arms. She makes small noises and burrows into my chest. Smiling, I carry her upstairs to our bedroom.
Who needs to be a player when you have the woman who makes your heart sing? I can’t wait to tie her to me in every way possible. And I’m going to give the only woman I’ve ever loved—the only woman I could ever imagine loving—the life of her dreams.
——
Thanks for reading That Wild Player. Missed earlier stories about Jan and Sammi? If so, you can grab them all now!
Jan’s story: That Man Next Door
Sammi’s story: That Sexy Stranger
Psst, don’t know which one to grab first? Read That Man Next Door, then That Sexy Stranger.
If you’ve already read both Jan and Sammi’s stories, check out my sexy billionaire romance, A Hollywood Deal. One year of marriage to my boss for $1 million. No falling in love. How hard can it be? Now available on Google Play!
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Titles by Nadia Lee
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——
The Billionaire’s Claim Duet
Book 1: Obsession
Book 2: Redemption
——
Sweet Darlings Inc. Series
Book 1: That Man Next Door
Book 2: That Sexy Stranger
Book 3: That Wild Player
——
Billionaires’ Brides of Convenience Series
Book 1: A Hollywood Deal
Book 2: A Hollywood Bride
Book 3: An Improper Deal
Book 4: An Improper Bride
Book 5: An Improper Ever After
Book 6: An Unlikely Deal
Book 7: An Unlikely Bride
Book 8: A Final Deal
——
The Pryce Family Series
Book 1: The Billionaire’s Counterfeit Girlfriend
Book 2: The Billionaire’s Holiday Obsession
Book 3: The Billionaire’s Secret Wife
Book 4: The Billionaire’s Forgotten Fiancée
Book 5: The Billionaire’s Forbidden Desire
Book 6: The Billionaire’s Holiday Bride
——
Seduced by the Billionaire Series
Book 1: The Billionaire’s Revenge
Book 2: The Billionaire’s Pursuit
Book 3: The Billionaire’s Baby
Book 3.5: The Billionaire’s Crush
Book 4: The Billionaire’s Scandal
Book 5: The Billionaire’s Secret
——
If you want to receive notices about my latest books, please join my VIP List at www.nadialee.net/vip!
About Nadia Lee
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Nadia Lee writes sexy, emotional contemporary romance. Born with a love for excellent food, travel and adventure, she has lived in four different countries, kissed stingrays, been bitten by a shark, ridden an elephant and petted tigers.
Currently, she shares a condo overlooking a small river and sakura trees in Japan with her husband and son. When she’s not writing, she can be found reading books by her favorite authors or planning another trip.
To learn more about Nadia and her projects, please visit www.nadialee.net. To receive news about Nadia’s upcoming releases, sales and promotions, giveaways, exclusive epilogues, bonus scenes and more, join her VIP List at www.nadialee.net/vip!
That Wild Player
Copyright © 2019 by Hyun J Kyung
Google Edition
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without the prior written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.
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Nadia Lee, That Wild Player
