Chasing Beautiful (Chasing Series #1) Read online

  Chasing Beautiful

  (Chasing Series Book #1)

  Pamela Ann

  Chasing Beautiful

  Pamela Ann

  Copyright © 2013, By Pamela Ann

  All Rights Reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Edited by

  Brandy Little of Little Bee’s Editing Services

  Interior book design by

  Bob Houston eBook Formatting

  Cover design by

  Melissa Gill

  To all loves, lost and found.

  One

  I felt someone’s presence before I was fully awake. When I managed to slightly part my eyes, I cursed inwardly from the brightness of the sunshine.

  Great, I forgot to close the blinds again last night.

  Willing my sleepy eyes to open a little wider this time, I was stunned to find Blake sitting on my couch, right across from me, wearing a dark scowl.

  Why, oh why! Did I give him a spare key, again? Ah, yes! So, that he could have a place to go to if he was feeling out of sorts. What a genius idea that was!

  I rubbed my eyes and yawned loudly, obviously still jetlagged. When I finally glanced at his quiet form, he was still wearing a deep scowl on his face, and still not voicing a word.

  Okay…

  “Good morning to you too,” I said with a sleepy voice that dripped with sarcasm.

  What’s with the attitude? I thought.

  “What the bloody hell were you thinking, Sienna?!” Blake’s voice was grating and condescending, his beautiful expressive eyes—midnight blue rimmed with grey and flecks of gold in the middle—flashed with suppressed anger, stormy and formidable.

  “Excuse me? What in the world are you yapping about, Blake?” His tone took me aback, I definitely wasn’t expecting it. Was he drunk, high or something? He didn’t look it. “Care to enlighten me?” I asked, exasperated and annoyed.

  I felt like someone ran me over; I probably looked it too. I’d give anything for coffee right now, I sighed at the thought.

  What kind of mess was I in? I didn’t recall stepping on anyone’s toes before I left London to go home, I think. I just landed yesterday, jet-lagged and a little drained from my conversation with Luce before she left for Turkey with Toby.

  And now this…

  Blake had barged in here like he owned the place with a demanding and taxing demeanor.

  Wait, hold on. How did he know I arrived already? Ah, Lucy Connelly probably did the courtesy.

  She’s my friend, my flatmate, and dating Toby Watson—Blake’s best friend since childhood. I met Lucy at a college party. She was sweet and genuine and we hit it right off. She casually mentioned that the woman who she shared an apartment with, left for New York to follow her boyfriend. So I immediately inquired about the vacant room.

  I was living in student housing then, but needed my own place—away from catfights, drunken noise and drama. She offered excitedly and wanted me to check it out the next day, I accepted. I moved in two days later. Our friendship blossomed and we became each other’s closest confidant.

  She went to school with Toby and Blake at the London School of Economics. When she started dating Toby, two weeks after I moved in, I became friends with the two men—more so with Blake. We just clicked.

  That was a little over eight months ago.

  “I ran into Lucy last night in Toby’s flat, and she casually mentioned that you came back last night, without telling anyone, might I add. So, OBVIOUSLY, I wanted to visit you—but she stopped me, revealed that you were in a delicate state. So, of course, my curiosity was piqued. I badgered her until she told me what she knew—and learned about your ‘little interlude’ with Kyle—while his girlfriend was in the premise—the intention of ‘closure’, indeed, was lost on you.” Blake’s furious expression deepened when he said ‘little incident.’ Oh, shit.

  I blushed.

  Shit-fuck-shit.

  He probably thinks I’m a hussy now, giving in to Kyle’s advances.

  I glanced away from him quickly. Is he ticked off that I haven’t called him about what happened and instead, learned it from Lucy? He even managed to sound—hurt?

  I’m sort of in a tricky situation; Kyle cheated on his girlfriend—with me. When I told Luce, she was shocked and felt wretched for me. So, it’s no surprise really, that Blake was angry.

  “Yeah, about that…it was merely a moment of madness—I’m shattered about it. I mean, who wouldn’t be in my situation? My emotions got the best of me….” I said lamely. Or maybe I was just plain horny and had made a beeline for it!

  I wanted to erase the whole entire visit back home from my lagging memory.

  “How could you put yourself in that position? I didn’t understand the bloody need to go and get ‘closure’—he already started seeing someone else—before he called to break it off with you. Have you forgotten about that? He’s a cheater! But still, you went prancing back to Los Angeles. And to make matters worse, he took advantage of that. You were intoxicated and placed yourself in danger!” His scowl deepened. “You could’ve been hurt, Sienna.”

  I was, not in the way he was implying, but my heart and pride were crushed. “Good God. I was in no way or shape in any danger. How you exaggerate and blow things out of proportion! Really now, Blake…it’s Kyle we’re talking about here. He would never hurt me, not like that.” I fidgeted with my lemon chiffon-colored, six hundred count sheets with my fingers, trying to gather ground.

  Was it really pathetic to look for closure? No, but if the guy in question cheated—surely closure is out of the question? My thoughts queried.

  Blake sighed deeply. He got up from the couch and stood in front of me, holding out his hand. His frame dominated the room. It’s a pretty decent size, but put Blake’s presence anywhere and the result would be the same, size be damned. He has that pulling power around him and his dark good looks just enhance it.

  He was dressed in nude chino shorts, a blue dress shirt pushed back to his elbows and tan soft-leather loafers. He looked like he had just stepped out of a Dolce & Gabbana summer photo shoot.

  Sometimes I wish he was average looking, then it would be easier to look at him without melting.

  A few strands of his wavy locks fell onto his forehead. Looking down on me, his beautiful face was complacent. “I made the courtesy of brewing some coffee. Come, you look like you need some.” Oh, don’t I just.

  I took his outstretched hand and he pulled me out of bed. “I was worried, Sienna. I care for your well being. Don’t be cross.” I looked down, not meeting his gaze.

  The man towered over my five foot two stature. Blake inhaled deeply, smelling my forehead before kissing it. Then he grabbed my hand and we walked towards the kitchen where the smell of freshly brewed coffee emanated, drawing me closer.

  He didn’t utter a word until I had my first sip of caffeine. “How are you really feeling? Okay? Not okay?” Blake was studying my reaction, pensive.

  “Yes—no—I don’t know? Can one ever be okay after a broken heart?” I shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll
move on, but I doubt I’ll put my heart out there like that—it’s traumatizing enough. Being vulnerable is something I don’t take lightly—with my background and all.” I sipped my scalding coffee without batting an eyelash.

  It’s true; vulnerability reminds me of my demoralizing childhood and Hell would freeze over before I let myself in that compromising position again.

  Blake’s handsome head nodded in agreement, with evident understanding. He had an idea of my rotten years of misery, but never really pushed me to talk about it. I appreciated it and respected him for it.

  Both of our parents died when we were young and it’s something we have in common. It gives us a platform of understanding—that we don’t have to explain, but we simply understand the pain—the loss—the daunting uncertainty of loneliness and the frightening feeling of what looms on the horizon.

  Blake and I immediately became close after Lucy started dated Toby. We liked the same books, shows, board games—amongst other things. We hit it right off the bat and hang out once a week or so—when he’s not busy with his women, and there’d been a lot.

  In the beginning, both Luce and Toby thought we would start dating too, but after a few months of insinuating, they finally let-up—accepting the fact that we clearly are just friends, platonic friends. I must admit that—at times—my mind drifts off and I imagine—envisage what it would be like to date someone like Blake. Six foot three, all muscles and the most arresting face—full lips, straight nose, chiseled jaw—his unique eyes hypnotizing.

  Sometimes I get caught staring into those eyes and forget where I am. Blake is the sexiest man—sinful and beautiful—my eyes have ever graced. I always snap myself back to reality when I remind myself that he’s a good friend and he dates tall, beautiful, leggy, statuesque women—preferably lingerie models. My Coca-Cola-bottle-shaped form did not stand a chance.

  Sure, most red-blooded males find me desirable and gorgeous, but with Blake, I simply felt Plain Jane.

  “…so it should be okay, right?” I wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying and my dumbfounded look seemed to annoy him.

  Glaring at me and combing his hair with his right hand, he looked frustrated. Something was bugging him.

  “Sienna… I was asking you if you wanted to eat breakfast.”

  “You haven’t had breakfast yet? How come? You never leave anywhere without eating first thing in the morning…” I trailed off. “Hold on, how long have you been here, sitting and scowling at me like a bear with a sore head?!” My accusing green/gold eyes to his midnight silver blue.

  “Awhile…”

  I glared at him some more, not budging.

  “Okay—okay—I think…quite possibly around four in the morning, I suppose?” he looked sheepish admitting this and he started to run his fingers through his dark locks, again. This habit comes out when he’s anxious. He doesn’t know that I know this, but I’ve noticed it enough. I notice everything about him.

  Did I hear that right? He’s been here since four in the morning?

  “WHAAAAAT!?!”

  Oh, hell. He was really pushing it. People break-up and get hurt all the time. There was no need to go to such lengths on my account.

  “I was concerned about you. I was worried and wanted to see for myself that you were okay. You’re one of my closest friends, Sienna. Sometimes, even more than Toby—and I didn’t want some bloody, idiotic wanker treating you badly—like you’re worth nothing! You weren’t picking up your bloody phone so I rushed over, like the good friend that I am, checking if you’d drunk yourself to a stupor or what of it.”

  “I was sleeping! So obviously, it was on silent!” I snapped at him.

  He has a very active imagination. How will he run his granddad’s empire if he’s extremely paranoid? The whole company will crumble under his thumb in a week! The thought made me smile. That would be a sight to see. But knowing how he is, he’ll excel and surpass everyone’s expectations like he always does.

  His frown deepened.

  I scowled.

  Not able to stand this feeling of being at odds with him, I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the couch.

  Our living room is painted in eggshell yellow and consists of two huge couches, HD television, a coffee table and other knick-knacks to make it warm and inviting. The contrast of dark wooden floor and a huge baby blue area rug gives it a homey, cozy feel. It’s spacious and airy at the same time, never stifling.

  I loved this flat. I felt like I belonged here.

  We sat next to each other on one of the dark mustard colored couches, shoulders touching. Our thighs touched. I glanced down and studied the outline of his well-toned muscular thighs, my eyes full of admiration. Uncomfortable, I looked at my very skimpy, cotton, soft-pink baby doll dress and felt a little flustered.

  How the heck did I manage to forget that I’m wearing almost next to nothing? I tried to cover my thighs by pulling it down more, but there was little fabric to pull.

  Get over it, I told myself. Blake won’t be interested, might as well strip naked and test it. He’d probably beg you to get dressed before you embarrassed us more. I smirked at the thought.

  I tend to push his buttons a lot, much to his dismay.

  “Look, Blake, I apologize for my rude behavior. I’m sure if something happened to you—I would do the exact same thing—I was just taken aback—thank you for caring. It means a lot to me. I suppose I should’ve seen it coming with Kyle. We didn’t see each other for nine months and we grew apart tremendously. The signs were there—but I ignored it. Somehow, deep down, I might’ve guessed that it was bound to happen. Kyle was a big part of my past. It’s sad that things had to end this way. We could’ve parted on nicer terms. But it happened and I just have to accept that.”

  That seemed to lighten his mood—just a tad bit.

  I took his right hand with my left and squeezed it tightly. Holding it, he took his other hand and touched my chin, making me look straight into his eyes, our faces only a few inches apart. I felt my stomach drop and I was mesmerized.

  I’ve never been this close to Blake. WOW! He easily takes my breath away. He’s so beautiful! Be still, my heart.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? Tell me—honestly? I want to beat his bloody ass to a pulp for hurting you! I warned you about that trip.” Obviously still angry and frustrated, I see.

  I cleared my throat and reached out to hug him.

  Blake’s such a good friend, maybe even a best friend. He cares for me. There only a few that do and I’ll treasure them forever. I suddenly felt like I had a lump in my throat.

  “I’m a bit better now, Blake—don’t fuss about me! Sure, it was awful—you know—but the whole ordeal made me look at the bigger picture and I realized that—I can’t hold on to the past…even if it is something I hold dear to my heart—I have to let it go and move on,” I whispered to him as my head nestled on his broad shoulder. I moved a little closer to his neck, wanting to rest my head and fall back to sleep again. He smelled delicious with a hint of lemon aftershave and something masculine.

  He smelled divine; I sighed loudly. How ironic is this? He came here to console me and here I am thinking naughty thoughts about him?

  I hate it when I get this weird feeling with Blake; it happens once in awhile to be honest. It makes me act awkward afterwards. I’m a woman, even if he’s my friend; it doesn’t make me immune to his charms or his striking looks. Or his mouth-watering smell. GAH!

  I released him from my hug and sat back to enjoy my coffee.

  Clearly my reaction to his smell bothered me. “Let’s get you out. Let’s do something fun, after we have breakfast at The Wolseley?” Blake looked like he was trying to conjure a plan.

  “Like what?” I thoughtfully asked him, knowing well enough that he didn’t quite know what the heck it was. He loves throwing ideas out and acting on it, spontaneous man that he is.

  “Whatever you fancy,” he said it with purpose as he sat back, splaying both arms on
the back of the couch, legs both on the table. Looking like a Greek god, lazing about with sheer contentment.

  His strong, thick, powerful legs showcased before my lustful eyes.

  Is there anything that this man is made of that isn’t sinful? Everything about him screamed of sin and sex. And I was hot and bothered. Am I always this hyper-aware of Blake? Is it always like this? Quite possibly. It was too much—my sleepy state couldn’t process the heavy confusion and the coffee seemed to be working weakly.

  Hell.

  “Knightly, it was your idea. If you ask me, I’d rather sit at home and just sleep some more. Oh! How about we just watch movies here all day on the couch?” I smiled sweetly at him. Give in, please? I don’t want to shower and get dressed, I thought lazily.

  “That would not be a good idea, poppet. Get up you little skive and get dressed! I’ll have it figured out before we leave, alright?” Blake ordered, giving me his signature killer smile, sexy dimples showing.

  I love it when he calls me poppet with his cute British accent. Truth be told, I have a hard time saying no to him when he dishes out this type of smile and he well bloody knows it.

  I groaned.

  I got up and threw a hap-sack pillow at his head. “This better be worth my time, Knightly.” I gave him my ‘I’m-not-so-amused’ face and started to leave when he surprisingly pulled me down next to him on the couch.

  “Do you trust me?” Indeed, I did.

  I nodded and went to my room to get changed.

  Why was he being so intense about the whole Kyle thing? It was so uncanny. I wasn’t sure if I liked him being that way towards me.

  Two

  Showered and ready to go, I gave myself a once over in the full-length mirror that hung on my bathroom door. I wore a powder blue, cotton dress that fitted tightly around my torso and flared nicely at the bottom, sitting two inches above my knees.

  I matched the dress with mustard-colored wedge espadrilles. I hastily placed my naturally wavy, dark hair in a loose bun, evoking simplicity while still achieving a sexy look.