“If the rumors are to be believed, then yes, Kennedy, he most definitely is. Being spotted leaving a doctor’s office known for its specialty in high-risk pregnancies with none other than his rumored on-again, off-again girlfriend, Mia Post. Not even a week after the pair was seen relaxing on the sunny tropical shores of Tahiti, I might add.”
I watch in rapt fascination while they go on yammering about Kane Masters’ supposed ‘baby mama drama.’ My eyes widening and my ears sucking up every word. I’ve been obsessed with this man and any information I can find out about him since our run-in six months ago. Just thinking about how he made me feel on a day I thought could be nothing but horrendous causes my body to heat. He’s been a running fantasy. The star of all my self-induced ecstasy. My obsession.
“Rumors aren’t exactly solid truth, Kirk. Take for example how just earlier this year there was one flying around that his oldest brother, Kyle, had apparently separated from his supermodel wife, the stunning Jessica Deen.”
“Yes, well … I suppose that sometimes they aren’t exactly confirmed, are they?” Kirk laughs. The screen changes to an image of Kane with his two older brothers, Kole and Kyle. Just seeing them together is a reminder of the good genes that run in the Masters family. They’re a triple smack-down force for any woman.
Including me.
All well over six feet tall, dark brown hair that looks black in most of the tabloids magazines, and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. You would have to be dead or blind not to have any one of them affect you. Kole, like Kane, decided to take the path of fame and fortune, and both of them went on to become hugely popular actors. The oldest, Kyle, wasn’t famous in his own right, but rather was well known because of his brothers—and the fact he married one of Victoria’s Secret’s top models. But even with all three of them rocking impossible good looks, it’s always been the youngest Masters brother who’s caught my eye.
In the days that followed our run-in, I’ve spent more days than I care to admit grabbing any tabloid magazine, entertainment report, or online article I could find about Kane Masters. His image and the scene forever burned in my memory have been the gasoline to my already burning fire of determination to become the Willow I am today.
I used him. Sure, it started out as fantasy and dreams … but it turned into me using him and everything he represents to drive myself toward the change I am today.
The picture of the Masters brothers changes and an image of Kane flashes on the screen, drawing me from my thoughts. I lean forward slightly, sucking in every single inch of his face. The same feelings I had when I was face-to-face with him resurface like a slap to my hibernating libido; same as every time I see his image.
His lightly tanned skin is darkened with an even more golden version of the tan he always carries. They continue to sift through various pictures of him on a sunny beach, his swim trunks hanging low on his hips, that sexy V on display, and those abs … good God, don’t get me started there. When they’ve displayed a million different poses of him just walking out of the surf, they settle on one of him taken at his last red carpet event. His burning blue gaze causes me to shift uncomfortably on the couch, knocking into Eddie’s knee. I hardly hear his hushed expletive because Kane’s penetrating gaze has me completely transfixed.
As if he’s looking right into my very soul, his eyes never waver from their connection with the camera. The lopsided grin that probably results in panties being dropped nationwide is in full force. I watch with bated breath as he runs one hand through his thick hair.
Could he be any more perfect?
“Yeah, maybe. If he turned that sinfully sexy scruff he’s rocking into a beard. That would probably throw his hotness levels over the edge and cancel out any negative traits he might have … therefore, perfection would be mastered.”
“Huh?” I question, not moving my eyes from the television.
“Sweetheart, has he rendered you stupid? You’ve been mumbling under your breath since beach picture four, which I might add was definitely fry your brain worthy, but you don’t see me over here acting like a moron. Well, I might have forgotten my name for just a brief second when that image appeared. There was no hiding the eggplant in his swim trunks. Bet he’s hung like a damn stallion.”
I roll my eyes, and with one last wistful sigh, I move my eyes from Kane’s image back over to Eddie—narrowing them instantly when I see him smirking.
“You aren’t funny.”
“Sure, I am.”
“No, you really aren’t. How are you not even a little impressed by everything that is Kane Masters?”
“Because he is one hundred percent unattainable dick for me, Will.”
“Yeah, well, he’s one hundred and fifty percent unattainable dick for me too, Eddie, but you don’t see that simmering down any of my hormones. God, how pathetic can I get.” His eyes get hard, but that doesn’t stop me. “Even if he was just some normal guy, could you ever see someone like him with someone like … me?”
“Willow,” he snaps in warning.
“Eddie,” I fire back. “Be serious.” I flap my arm out in the air but quickly drop it when I remember I’m wearing a tank top … the number one enemy of a chubby girl is the skin under her arms. I always feel like it’s just jiggling like crazy. No matter how hard I work out, I still feel like it grows daily.
“I saw that,” Eddie grunts, narrowing his eyes. The issues I have toward my body have been an ongoing sore spot for Eddie.
“You saw nothing.”
“You look beautiful, Willow. I wish you could see what I see when I look at you. Any man, Kane included, but yours truly excluded because you know … you have the wrong equipment, would be lucky to have you on his arm.”
I snort, pick up the remote, and turn the television off, saying good-bye to Kane’s handsome smirk and all the tingly feelings his face gives me. Why do I feel so upset about the news that he and his supposed girlfriend are expecting? I mean, it’s not as if I had a chance.
Sighing, I look over at my handsome best friend. “Eddie, people like me don’t get the handsome ones. We get the short, bald, pot bellied ones.”
He opens his mouth to respond, and I know from experience this is just the beginning of a fight; one I’m not interested in having with him tonight at all. I could only imagine how this conversation would be going if he knew about my run-in with Kane just months before. Tonight is about relaxing and celebrating his promotion out of my father’s company. He’s finally going to be living his dream. He’s grown such a reputation for excellence in his work that his demand has outgrown my father’s reach.
“When is Kirby getting here?” I ask, effectively letting him know the subject is closed. Conversation over. Done.
“Soon.” He sighs. “Something about Rob needed her to take Alli to soccer practice because he would be working late and she would be over as soon as she got Alli home and settled.”
“Right, well, let’s get started.” I pick up the pink polish he made a complete mess of his nails with and recap it. “Where’s the remover? You look ridiculous.”
Smirk back in place, Eddie and I resume our pampering and forget all thoughts of Kane Masters.
Well, kind of.
Not really.
An hour later, Eddie pops bottle number three of the most delicious Moscato d'Asti. Maybe it was our overly buzzed minds, or the fact we had covered both our faces in a mud mask, but when the door snaps open with a loud bang, we both scream. Hilariously, Eddie sounds more girlish than I do, causing me to double over in laughter.
Kirby walks in and stops dead in her tracks. “You two bitches started without me?”
I look over at Eddie, his lips moving in a weird pucker-like pout as his mask cracks around his lips. Each visible crack makes his pucker grow until he looks absolutely ridiculous. I’m sure my own mask is well beyond ready for me to wash off. Just seeing him make that face makes my lips twitch until I’m copying him. Both of us start laughing again when we see our faces contort as the mask cracks around our movements.