Page 11 of Safe Word
Carteay was a star and rightfully so. Not that I was starstruck or anything. My line of business came with dealing with celebrities. Besides, Carrie wasn’t even like that. She was big, like super famous, but she was so down to earth that you wouldn’t know when you met her unless you already knew it.
There she was, as illuminating as ever, wearing my shirt and singing off-key while she whisked eggs and chopped vegetables. I had an unspoken rule to never be the thing someone needed protection from. I’d failed her. Still, as she looked over her shoulder and smiled at me, I didn’t give a fuck about right and wrong. I just wanted more of whatever this was.
Last night replayed in my head on a constant loop. I didn’t know which part to hone in on. Everything was so perfect. Her hands on my chest, the sound she made every time I hit that one spot, the way she sang my name like it was the highest praise—I wanted it all.
It was torturous to be this close and still so far away. I wanted more, but it was something I knew I couldn’t have. I told myself to give her space. It was only right. I needed to give us room to say what we had done was a mistake. I needed to let her walk it back.
“Breakfast is served, my lord,” she teased as she placed a huge omelet with meat and veggies spilling out of it in front of me.
“Since when do you cook?” I asked, grabbing the hot sauce off the counter and adding a few dashes. It just gave things the right kick sometimes. Picking up the fork, I dug in without hesitation as I looked up at Carteay for a response.
“Who said I didn’t cook?”
“No one. I’m just used to you constantly saying you were waiting on takeout when I asked what you were eating.”
“I never have time to cook. Somebody is always in my face wanting something. Plus, it’s easier to order out.”
“You ain’t lying. I might get on the grill now and then, but other than that, I usually grab something quick.”
“Well, this time you don’t have to.”
“And it’s good. Thank you,” I said, looking up at her from my plate.
“You’re welcome and thank you for last night.”
“Which part?” I teased.
She rolled her eyes playfully. “Shut up. Seriously, though, thank you for all of it,” she said, flashing a coy grin before dropping her eyes to her food. “It’s comforting to just be here with you. I know that you don’t have any expectations or want to see what you can get out of me.”
It felt like she wanted to say something else, so I didn’t respond to her statement. I wanted to leave room for her to speak her mind now that she was sober. Some of the things she mentioned last night weren’t sitting right with me. I just needed to figure out how to broach the subject. Plus, I wanted her to know she was safe here, even if my dick was screaming otherwise.
“I aim to please, mama.”
I watched her body jerk as she laughed silently. “That you do.”
“What’s the plan for today?”
“I don’t know. I’m not ready to face the world yet. I kinda wish I could hide out here forever. I know that I can’t though. I didn’t even grab my phone before we left. They’ve probably filed a missing person report by now. Their cash cow is off the radar for the first time.”
“I’m sure they’re just worried about you,” I said, not really meaning what I said but wanting her to elaborate. She took the bait.
“Hmph, worried is not something I would ever associate with those people. My mom might be concerned if anyone from the label has the sense to contact her, but otherwise, they are just worried about the money they could be missing if I don’t show up by Monday to be on The Daily Word with Cassidy Lee.”
“I hate that show,” I mumbled.
I only knew of it because a couple of my frequent flyers liked to watch her gossiping ass in the mornings. I was always gracious enough to make breakfast before sending them on their way. This time, Carteay beat me to the punch.
“I hate doing anything that requires me to be fake. That’s pretty much my whole life once I walk out the front doors of my house.”
“That’s crazy. I don’t know if I could do it,” I confessed.
“It looks like all glitz and glamour from the outside, but between the upside-down contracts, image consultants, and handlers, you start to forget what’s real and what’s fake.”
“So, why do you do it? Is it for the money or the love of the craft?”
“I’ve always loved to sing. When I won that showcase and got the record deal, I felt like all of my prayers had been answered. For the first few months, I couldn’t tell the difference. The longerI worked with the label and all the people they had managing my every move, the more I felt like I was losing myself.”
“How’s that?”
