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  “Thanks, Bruce,” I tell him as I shut the door. “Just straight home, please.”

  “No problem, Drew.”

  I’ve had Bruce driving me around New York for the past six years. I used to just call a car service whenever I needed to go somewhere, but it became annoying having all the different drivers want to have their pictures with me. Then, as I became more recognizable, the leaks to the gossip rags started to get out of control. I know the drivers were getting paid off to tell the vultures where I was and who I was with. Everywhere I went, the photographers just happened to turn up.

  Bruce used to drive for a limo company that Jane had hired several times before and she quickly snatched him up when I mentioned getting my own driver. Personally, I think she likes him, which is fine by me. They’re both a part of my family. It took me two whole years to get Bruce to stop calling me Mr. Forrester, but I finally wore him down.

  I take out my phone and text Sydney about our date tonight while the car heads slowly down Columbus Avenue in the thick traffic.

  Me

  I stare at my phone, willing it to answer me. Ten minutes later, Bruce pulls behind my brownstone and into the underground garage and I frown at my phone. I still haven’t heard back from Sydney. Did she change her mind about going out with me? I feel sick to my stomach. She wouldn’t do that, would she? She seemed to be just as into me last night. Fuck, I’m usually such a confident prick, I hate this feeling.

  I tell Bruce to take the day off and be back here at 8:15 or so to get me for dinner. He doesn’t think to hide his surprise that I’m going on an actual date, but fortunately he’s too polite to say anything.

  Angry, I slam the door from the garage and storm up the stairs to my bedroom as I rip off my sweaty clothes. I pace back and forth in front of the window, worried that she’s blowing me off. Shit! I’m not used to chasing a woman. I have no idea if she’s supposed to respond to my text right away. Maybe it’s some chick thing to play hard to get or some crap like that. I hate not being able to control this situation.

  A thought crosses my mind that halts me in my tracks. What if she’s seeing someone else? I’d probably kill him if I met him. I. Don’t. Share. What’s. Mine. And I fully intend on making Sydney mine very soon.

  This is ridiculous. I step into the shower and turn it to cold, letting the freezing water hit my skin. I need to get control of myself and my anger. Sydney doesn’t strike me as the type to play games. If she were, she certainly wouldn’t have freaked out so much in the café when she found out who Adam was.

  This girl is making me absolutely fucking nuts. I haven’t doubted myself in so long; I have no idea what to do with a real woman. One who doesn’t fling her panties in my face five seconds after meeting me, which it turns out, is a real turn off.

  Even the frigid water in the shower doesn’t stop me from getting a hard on from thinking about Sydney. Jesus, I would think jerking off twice a day for the last week would have cured me of this obsession with her. It hasn’t. Even now, under the cold water, my dick is getting hard.

  Unable to stop myself, I reach down and run my hand up my length, squeezing as I reach the tip. My cock clearly doesn’t care how cold the water is. The thought of Sydney’s full pink lips and tight ass make my dick throb in my hand.

  I drop my head and slap one hand up on the tiled wall as I stroke faster, letting the image of Sydney drive the pleasurable sensations through my body. My balls tighten up when I visualize tasting her wet pussy, her legs wrapped around my head as I dive my tongue in and out of her sweet cunt. When the stimulation reaches a peak, I pump my hand faster until all of my frustration and desire explodes out of me, endless streams of come jetting into the drain and wiping my mind clear for at least the next few minutes.

  Disgusted with myself, I turn the dial to hot and catch my breath, leaning back against the wall until I catch my breath. I wash off quickly and hop out, grabbing a huge towel to wrap around my waist. Jerking-off did absolutely nothing to help me figure out what to do about my date. I throw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, grab my phone, and head downstairs to my office.

  I don’t really have anyone I can call to help talk me down from what I’m sure is an overreaction on my part. Damien? He’ll just tell me to fuck her and move on. Jane? She was so shocked that I was going on a date that she couldn’t speak. I can only think of one other person that I trust enough to call.

  “Drew? What’s up?” My sister Allie sounds surprised to hear from me. And she’s right, it is unusual for me to bother her on a Friday morning.

  “Hey Al, do you have a minute?” I feel so stupid calling my baby sister for girl advice, but really, if anyone knows what a young single woman is thinking, it’s Allie.

  “Sure, is everything okay?” I can hear her shuffling stuff and then walking somewhere. Probably so her coworkers don’t hear her. She’s a pharmacist at a hospital in Boston and she doesn’t tell anyone that I’m her brother. She made that mistake in college and it became one big clusterfuck. My fucking job ruins everything sometimes.

  “Yeah, I just need to ask you about … well …” I have no idea how to put this.

  “Say it Drew, you’re freaking me out!” Great, Allie’s getting upset. She’s probably thinking the worst right now.

  “Okay, I met a girl.”

  “A girl? You are calling me about a girl?” She starts laughing uncontrollably. I can see her right now, hunched over, clutching her stomach while tears run down her face.

  “Ha-ha, super funny, sis. I’m trying to open up to you here. Aren’t women always saying that men are too emotionally unavailable? I need advice, so stop it!”

  She calms down and attempts to be serious. “Okay, sorry. What kind of advice on women does the ‘Sexiest Man Alive’ need from his little sister?” She starts giggling again.

  “Allie! C’mon! You’re making me feel like a wicked pussy here.” Talking to my friends and family always brings back my Boston accent. I worked hard to ditch it, and it fires right back up whenever I speak to them. I explain the Sydney situation to her, keeping it short, and wait for a response.

  “Al? What do you think?” I wait again. “Allie! What the hell?”

  “Drew, I don’t know what to say. If she really doesn’t know who you are, then I’m amazed. Marry her, big brother. You’ll never find another girl who has the potential to love you for just you. And I’m not saying that to make you feel shitty, but because I care.”

  “I know, Al. It’s unbelievable that I found someone who has absolutely no interest in Andrew Forrester.” We always refer to my public persona as a third person, because I am most definitely not him. He’s not real. He’s a product of excellent marketing. No one wants to buy tickets to see a movie starring Drew from Boston; the one who wears ugly old sentimental baseball hats and likes to have a beer with his friends.

  That’s fine by me because I don’t want people to know me like that. I much prefer the two separate lives. But women only ever know the Andrew Forrester that they see on the screen and in the magazines; they don’t have any interest in Drew. “She saw me in my Trevor Caldwell hat and still let me come back to her place.”

  “Wow. Just wow. Any girl that would hang out with you after seeing that disgusting piece of crap on your head is perfect for you. I wouldn’t worry about the text, bro. She’s probably getting a dress or getting her hair done. Or hey, ever think that she might be at work and can’t check her phone? Some of us have jobs we have to go to every single day.” God I love her sarcasm. She definitely keeps me grounded in reality.

  “You’re right. I’m just nervous, that’s all. I gotta go Al, thanks for listening.”

  “Drew, if she’s as great as you say she is, then she’ll love you. You’re an awesome guy.”

  “Love ya sis.”

  “Love ya too. Bye!” She hangs up and I stare at the phone for a second.

  I really hope my sister is right about Sydney.

  C
HAPTER 6

  Bruce is driving me the two blocks to Sydney’s loft. She finally texted me back and told me that 8:30 was fine and that she would meet me downstairs, which made me feel like an idiot for freaking out earlier. She won’t let me come up and get her like a real date, which is disappointing. I don’t ever go on real dates and I was kind of looking forward to going all out.

  At least this way, no one will see me get in and out of the car or walking through the lobby of her building. It’s a Friday night and it’s early, so there’s sure to be more people out tonight than there were last night. We pull onto her street and I text her just like she asked.

  Me

  As I’m thinking about tonight, Bruce jumps from the car and opens the back door for Sydney. I hear her acknowledge him kindly and she slides in gracefully next to me.

  “My pleasure Sydney,” Bruce responds as he gently closes the door.

  Jesus, she’s even more attractive than I remember. The sweet smell of her fills the car, making me hard already. “Sydney, you look stunning.” She’s wearing a short black dress and killer heels. Her hair is loose and wavy.

  I think about grabbing her by the waist and pulling her onto my lap. The thought of having my way with her in the car makes me smile. I can’t help myself, I have to touch her. Reaching up I put my hands on either side of her beautiful face and softly kiss the thick, full lips that I’ve been fantasizing about since that day in the gym. The crimson that flushes her cheeks and neck from our brief contact is so hot, it’s making me even more uncomfortable in my pants.

  “Drew, you clean up rather well yourself.”

  The way Sydney is looking at me makes my dick twitch again. Shit, I start running baseball stats through my head. Cold water doesn’t work, so I doubt this will, but I have to try. I can’t get out of the car at the restaurant with a hard-on. She’ll think I’m a perverted asshole.

  “Shoot. I forgot. You left your hat at my place.” She breaks my concentration with her random thought.

  I try not to laugh at her, doing a poor job of concealing my amusement. “My hat. Yes, I’ll need to get that back. It’s sort of my lucky charm.” I know she hates that hat, most people do. Allie tells me she wants to throw up whenever she sees me wear it. They just can’t appreciate how important that hat is. Without thinking, I put my hand on her bare knee and my dick swells again.

  Shit, think baseball Forrester.

  Sydney looks at my hand then up at my face, her piercing blue eyes filled with lust. “Lucky charm? Why is it lucky?”

  Good, keep the conversation on baseball. “I was wearing it when I bumped into you at the coffee shop after I was convinced I’d never see you again.”

  What the hell? Why would I say that? Now I know for sure that my brain has detached from my body. My mouth and my dick are running the show here tonight. She freezes and swallows loudly at my words. Damn, if I don’t get out of this car I’m going to take her right here on the back seat.

  Thankfully, we pull into the parking lot and stop. “Sydney, we’re here,” I tell her.

  I reluctantly get out and turn to help her out of the car. When she steps onto the pavement the length of her body presses into mine and I’m paralyzed by desire. I look down at her mouth. Would she be mad if I devoured her lips right here in the cold? Probably. “We better go in, it’s cold out here.” I step back and take her hand. She mumbles something as we walk, but I don’t catch it.

  “What is this place?” she asks.

  I answer her as we keep walking, she’s got to be freezing out here in that scrap of fabric she considers a dress. “This is Sunset House, on 76th street. We’re using the back entrance. I’ve reserved us a private dining room.”

  I turn to hold the door for her and she speaks again. “Oh. Why a private dining room?” So many questions from someone who has given me absolutely no answers.

  I tell her the truth, just not all of it. “So I can spend time with only you, of course. And you’re too sexy for your own good. I don’t like to share, Sydney. Every man in the restaurant would be watching you.” And so you don’t find out that I’m some super famous actor and inexplicably freak out and run away from me.

  The host just inside the door greets us warmly.

  Don’t fuck this up for me dude.

  “Mr. Forrester, Miss Allen, welcome to Sunset House. I’m Chase and I’ll take care of you tonight. We have your room ready, please follow me.” I notice Sydney stiffen a little when Chase addresses us. I hope like hell that she didn’t recognize my last name.

  I let Sydney go first and follow her up a flight of stairs. Chase opens the door to our room and allows us to pass. I owe Jane big, this is perfect. I watch Sydney’s reaction to the room. She gently touches the wood buffet near the door and slowly walks toward the wall of windows that overlook the entire restaurant. I notice that she methodically checks out everything in the room, the chandelier, the table, the chairs. When she reaches the windows, she flinches slightly. She hates the windows, too exposed for her to be comfortable if I had to guess.

  I move behind her to reassure her that she’s safe. “Don’t worry, the glass is one way. No one can see into the private rooms from the main restaurant.”

  Chase steps up, takes our coats from us, and leaves. I pull out a chair for Sydney and she accepts it graciously. I take the seat next to her. “I hope you like champagne, I ordered some for us.” Well, Jane did anyway. She was miffed when I called her this afternoon and asked her to call the restaurant with more instructions. She must have felt bad for me and my rare case of nerves because she did it without arguing.

  Chase breezes in with the champagne, and opens it, deftly pouring us each a glass before exiting the room again.

  Sydney touches her glass as she looks at me with an odd expression on her face. “So, I’m impressed, Mr. Forrester. I guess I should find it odd that the host knew your last name and I didn’t and we’re on a date. Or should I be more creeped out that he knew mine?”

  That’s why she freaked out when Chase greeted us. She doesn’t like that I know her last name. As secretive as she is, she probably thinks I did something illegal to get it or something. This girl is really damaged. Once again, I want to fucking kill whoever did this to her.

  I attempt a smile, to keep her from seeing how angry I am. “Well, Miss Allen, if you must know, your doorman used your name last night. That’s how I know it. I promise I didn’t go through your mail to find out. And you never asked for my last name, so now you know it. There’s no secret motive behind my actions, I just enjoy spending time with you and want to get to know you better.”

  Sydney looks relieved at my answer. Is someone threatening her? Did someone stalk her? Before I can ask, she holds up her flute. “A toast then, Mr. Forrester?”

  “To getting to know each other better.” I say confidently. I’m going to figure you out Miss Allen, even if it takes my entire lifetime. I hold my glass up to hers and look into her eyes.

  “Yes. I’ll toast that,” she replies. But somehow, I don’t think she means it.

  Dinner with Sydney was perfect. She’s charming and adorable and despite having to avoid such huge topics including almost everything about her and everything about my job we manage to have great conversation. She’s very good at not asking questions that she doesn’t want to answer about herself, so I was spared the awkwardness of lying about what I do for a living.

  Now, we’re in the car on the way back to her loft and I’ve been torturing myself by putting my hand on her bare thigh and rubbing my thumb back and forth. All of the flirting over dinner has turned me into a raging lunatic with yet another uncontrollable hard-on and it’s getting difficult to hide it from Sydney.

  Bruce stops the car in front of her building and waits. I have the glass divider up so he can’t hear or see us. I can’t bring myself to be a gentleman and say goodbye to Sydney here in the car, I have to see if she’ll let us conti
nue the date upstairs. Thinking about her all week has made me a wreck. I turn and put my hand on her cheek. When she licks her lips, looks at me seductively, and whispers my name, I know she’ll say yes. “Can I come up?”

  “Of course. I have to give you your hat,” she responds wickedly.

  I try to suppress a smile, she really hates that hat, but I don’t think that’s why she wants me to go upstairs. I lean in and kiss her, hesitant at first. I don’t want to push her and ruin this, but when our mouths touch, Sydney unleashes an animal that I didn’t know she had in her. She wraps herself around my body and tangles her hands in my hair, yanking my face down to hers in a mind blowing embrace. Sydney hitches one of her long legs over mine and winds her other arm around my neck, nearly climbing in my lap on the back seat.

  She’s so fucking hot. I have to stop her before I can’t stop her. I gently push her away and groan as she licks her swollen lips. A small button on my door panel lowers the glass that divides the front seat from the back. “Bruce, you can go for the evening,” I instruct my driver.

  I step out of the car, quickly flipping up the collar of my long coat, and dash around the back to let Sydney out before anyone sees me. Her street has more foot traffic than mine so I don’t want to take any chances by lingering on the sidewalk longer than necessary.

  It’s absolutely freezing out tonight, the wind having penetrated the thick layers I’m wearing from the five seconds I’ve been out of the warm car, so it won’t seem strange that I’m hurrying her inside. I open her door and lean in to help her out. She looks bewildered by my hasty escape. “I don’t want to take you in the back of the car, Sydney. And if we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to,” I grin. She smiles and gratefully accepts my hand and we sprint into her building.