Page 30 of Fake

Page List


Font:  

I was an idiot. The clinic for the morning after pill was twelve blocks away and was closed. I could have found an emergency place, but the truth was, down deep inside I didn’t believe in it. If I’d fucked up, I’d deal with it. I had money. I would worry about it later. I had only two goals. Eat, and avoid Alec at all costs. As hard as it was going to be, I planned to never see the man ever again. If I was pregnant, I’d have the baby. For me, there was no other choice.

Chapter 12

Alec

Goddamn it. It took everything in my will not to text or call her again. I went over the scenario in my head repeatedly. I took the call from my office, and I was looking at the spreadsheet they sent me, then I heard the door click. I thought for a minute it was the bathroom door, but when I got off the call, Kylie had vanished. I ran out looking for her, panicked. I texted and got no response, and for a minute it seemed as if she’d completely disappeared.

I then spiraled into an obsession, trying to find her, which led me to her door and her pesky roommates who wouldn’t allow me in, which wasn’t surprising. It was so frustrating. It was nearly eleven o’clock at night, and I still hadn’t heard from her. Of course, I knew she was alive, but all I could gather was that I scared the shit out of her. Frightening a woman into not coming back into my life would have worked for me with most other people, but not Kylie. There was more to explore there …

I did get one text from her the following morning, and I almost smashed my phone into the wall.

Thank you for the memories, Alec. I’ll never look at ice cream the same way again … or turkey for that matter. Enjoy your life, find something you love. – Kylie

Fuck her, fuck her … fuck her. Damn, I wanted to fuck her! I paced back and forth in my penthouse thinking of ways to turn it all around, but there wasn’t really anything that didn’t look too desperate. Instead, I figured, she was Kylie Morgan, I could find her. She and I ran in the same circles. I found my inner peace knowing that Kylie and I would be crossing paths again, and the next time I got her in my penthouse, I wasn’t going to let her leave.

For the rest of the week, not much new came out about Kylie. She’d been seen with Dean again … blah blah blah. She had an editorial in vogue that fueled a few of my fantasies. This time she was wearing couture clothing by Yuan Shiliang, an avant-guard Chinese designer and again, her fucking tits were out for the world to see.

I thought about how sweet and soft her nipples were, and that gorgeous little mole on her left breast. I savored the memory of how they hardened at the slightest touch. Her breasts were pert but so tiny as was the rest of her body. Almost too tiny; when I got her back, I’d make it my mission to get her to eat. Surely a model could have a little more meat on their bones. The good thing was Kylie didn’t seem hung up about food, just didn’t, at least in our circumstances, have the opportunity to eat much of it.

Weeks passed. My need for her became a ravenous ache. I wouldn’t stoop to desperation, but I did make a point of showing up in her life, which seemed to be taking a turn. It had been almost two months since I’d slept with Kylie, and she’d changed. The Kylie I’d met in the bar was always in the media for attending parties and drinking Starbucks with random guys looking fucked over and sex ravaged. There were countless pictures of her in exotic locals wearing nearly nothing with a cocktail in hand. Though there were enough of those pictures to fill volumes, none of them were the Kylie whose nose crinkled and breathing escalated when she aroused or giggled. She didn’t really even drink, at least hadn’t the night we were together.

Her pictures now had her wearing more clothes. Gone were the glorious little titties she so loved to show the world. She had also started a nonprofit for foster teens. My cold heart opened a crack when I read that. More of the photos were of her with her girlfriends and charity events supporting her nonprofit. By the time I saw her at the premiere of Cold Hard Truth, the newest big studio action-thriller where she had a cameo role as a secret agent, she had been photographed more times in classy business suits than out of them.


Tags: Sarah J. Brooks Romance