Blasphemous Page 19

  It seems, that Emma was here somewhere.

  And she was. The golden goddess strode out after a minute looking foxy. Dressed in a fitted scarlet dress, lipstick and heels. “Bass,” she said, barely glancing my way as she continued walking towards the shoot area, ready to pounce on the camera.

  Five minutes in the shoot, I sure was ready to pounce on delectable treat that was enticing me to take a sample.

  “Hold on, guys,” the photographer directed us before he turned his attention to someone from the back. “Get me more lighting here!” I could hear him bark out orders while the two of us quietly kept still.

  The urge to taste her was making it difficult for me. I was contemplating whether I should or shouldn’t when she released a soft sigh. My thoughts drained and the tip of my tongue snuck out and sampled her earlobe. It was swift and quick, but that definitely earned her immediate attention.

  “Stop that!” she hissed.

  The playful, evil side of me wanted to tease her into oblivion, but I knew better. Emma wasn’t to be trifled with because, when it came to her, I was at the losing end.

  How I wished then that I was in love with another woman. I loved being in love and I wanted to experience it with someone who felt as much as I did. My fate it seemed, though, was already set-up for me to endure loving someone who had an indecisive heart.

  When it was time to shoot with Dimitris, Emma never once glanced my way.

  Her hatred was felt.

  It should’ve mattered, but I was relieved that she was at least feeling something.

  Indifference was much worse than hate.

  ~B~

  Three days later…

  I was the last one to arrive at the private airport in Van Nuys. Both Emma and Dimitris were already seated and buckled and both had sunglasses on, not talking to each other.

  “Good morning, grumpy folks!” I greeted and they both ignored me.

  Great, now I was stuck with them until we landed in Athens. It was going to be a long flight.

  The European tour was scheduled to kick off in Athens first, then Barcelona, Rome, Munich, Paris and London.

  I decided to situate myself on the other side of the cabin, but still had a clear view of Emma. For hours, I just stared at her, barely doing anything else.

  With only five hours to go until we landed, I decided to wash up and brush my teeth in the bathroom. I decided that I needed a shave when I saw the stubble that had grown overnight.

  With only my jeans on, I strode out of the bathroom towards the cabin to look for my shaving kit. Emma gasped loudly, eyes glued on my chest.

  Huh. I still affected her somehow. Knowing that made me happy, despite thoughts of her with Carter never ceasing to go away.

  “Something wrong with my chest? You can’t seem to stop checking it out.”

  She looked away, cheeks blushing as she bit her lip.

  I was just about to blurt out how beautiful she looked before I caught myself.

  Nodding, I did what I had to before leaving back to the bathroom. Emma wanted to be impersonal and indifferent. Why was it so hard for me to do the same? Why did I have this need to reach out and talk to her?

  She moved on, as I requested. However, it didn’t change the fact that I was hurting, still. Loving Emma from afar was difficult enough, but loving her this close—seeing her on a daily basis—was raw and twisting. How long would it take for me to fold and beg her to take me back?

  Chapter 26

  Munich

  “We were not making love, we did not even kiss, but the inexplicable intimacy we shared left us wordlessly and hopelessly locked into each other's gaze.”

  - Jasmine Dubroff

  Emma

  I strode, zigzagging across the hall, counting down the gold-plated numbers on the cream doors as I went along. “Finally!” I exclaimed as I slid my purse off my shoulder. Opening it, I rummaged through all the paraphernalia for my keycard. After a minute of drunken frustration, my keycard was not in there. “For the love of God, can this night get any better?” Sighing, I closed my eyes and started to thump my forehead against my door.

  I stopped after a few successions when I heard a high-pitched laugh down the carpeted hall. Someone was coming and I took a peek at the incoming intruders. My mouth parted slightly, but no sound came. It was Bass with two women and three men. His room was just across mine, too. Hell truly was laughing at my expense this evening. I was sure of it.

  “Emma?” The man of the century finally spotted me.

  “Heeey… forgot my keycard. I’m going to the lobby to get one.” I started to make a move, but Bass stopped me.

  “I’ll go with you downstairs. Give me a minute,” Bass spoke in one of the women’s ear as she nodded in understanding. I saw him from the corner of my eye as he pulled out his keycard and let them inside his room. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll be right back,” he added.

  “Bass, you don’t have to. I’m fine. I can go downstairs on my own, thank you.” He wasn’t paying attention, though. Thoughts of him with that brunette were killing me inside. I didn’t know how that was possible since I was almost sure there was nothing left to be killed in me, but hey, there it was, killing me softly.

  “Ready, Emma?”

  “Uhmm,” I nonchalantly responded. I might be dying from humiliation and heartbreak, but I was going to pretend I was strong—at least if I could muster up the courage to do so.

  We strode with awkward silence, cautious not to touch each other. When we got to the elevator, I almost sighed my relief out loud when it dinged almost immediately after Bass pressed the call button. The ride to the lobby was still uncomfortable and I dared not chance a glance at him.

  Call me scared, but I couldn’t summon it in me to do so because the truth was, I was stupefied of what I might find if I did, or what I might feel when I looked at him again. Most of all, I was scared of what he would see—that I was throes, heaven and back, still, endlessly in love with him.

  When we finally got to the lobby, Bass took the initiative to request for my keycard while I remained mum, hovering behind him.

  After a few agonizing minutes, he spun around and held up a card. “Got your key. Now, let’s get you ready for bed. You look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

  Wow. Wow. Wow. The first time he tried to really talk to me and this was his line? Could he be any more subtle telling me that I looked like crap?

  If I was in a great condition I might’ve responded with something catty, but instead I only sighed, “Yeah, I’m tired.” If he thought I looked worse for wear, then hell, go ahead. I wasn’t trying to be sexy to coax him back to me. It didn’t work either in Greece or in Los Angeles, so what was the point?

  The ride back was still in the same dire situation. I was past emotional exhaustion and was more than grateful when Bass slid the keycard into the slit before swiftly turning the handle to enter my room.

  I expected him to leave me then, but became surprised when he entered with me. Ignoring his overpowering presence, I took off my shoes and strode towards the fridge for some water.

  I looked anywhere except at him—around him, next to him, behind him—really, anywhere as long as it wasn’t directly at him. I felt too much already and the saddest thing was, I yearned for something from him. Things that were already gone, but it seemed that I was consumed with so many memories of him that I was on the verge of begging, pleading.

  I was too damn close to it. I felt it. My body was fighting, raging war against me. Alas, I had already implored a thousand times, but he was immovable, unyielding to see my reasons. They weren’t simply excuses, but honest truths. Yet, he still didn’t believe me. Nor trust me. The latter made his decision final.

  “Thank you. I would love to talk and catch up, but I’m tired,” I spoke as I lowered the bottled water onto the bar. Without hearing a response from him, I strolled towards the bathroom door to have a quick shower, but before I did so, I had to bid him goodbye. “You can
let yourself out. Thanks again.”

  In the bathroom, I didn’t crumble until I was in the hot shower. “This is the last time… no more tears,” I told myself as I felt the water on my face, cleaning my tears away with it.

  With my towel-dried hair, I came out of the bathroom with a cotton robe on and paused when I saw Bass, still standing in the exact same spot I left him half an hour ago.

  My surprise made me forget not to look directly at him and, damn, when I did, things started to blur for me. Not visually, but mentally and emotionally.

  “I was going to leave, but I heard you crying.”

  Oh, shit. Don’t you dare breakdown in front of him, I ordered my shaky self. “It was nothing. It’s just been a rough day and it’s almost that time of the month,” I lied, smoothly. I hoped it worked because I was out of ideas if it didn’t.

  I bit my tongue, about to curse out loud as Bass purposely walked towards where I was frozen in time. “Look at me,” he whispered as he slowly lifted my chin with my downcast eyes.

  Shaking my stubborn head, I didn’t budged. “Why are you doing this? Can you please just leave? I’m begging you to go. I’m so tired.” Of fighting… everything.

  “Look at me, Emma.”

  What was his problem? Didn’t he have friends to return to?

  “I can’t. Don’t ask it of me again because I can’t.” Why couldn’t he just leave me be? It was what he wanted. It was what he wished it to be. I had complied, defeated, but still complied. “Go,” I choked out, like a broken cry or plea. One thing stood out with that simple word, it sounded broken.

  “You can’t look at me, or is it more like you won’t?” Bass continued to fuck with my mind.

  His relentless persistence was driving me ballistic. “What the hell do you want from me, Bass?”

  “Honesty, Emma.”

  “Why? According to you, I lie or I don’t know what I’m talking about. So, what the heck is the point in any of this? Leave me be. GO, Bass!” And leave me with my misery.

  “Is that what you want?”

  Why? Since when did my wants ever come into this? Ever since he found out about Carter, what I want hadn’t mattered. How many women had he been with since me? The stupid thought popped out of nowhere. It didn’t matter. Bass wasn’t my business, not anymore. “Yes, Bass. Stop acting weird, please, and leave my room.”

  With my eyes closed, I violently shook as my tears pooled behind my lids, threatening to escape.

  “Why were you crying?” he asked in an almost pained voice.

  Why care about my tears now? They never made a difference to you before. “None of your business.”

  “Are these tears for me?” He brushed a tear away, looking at the wetness on his thumb like it was the first time he’d seen one.

  As if. Arrogant man, he was right, however I’d rather die a thousand deaths than tell him the truth. “Seriously? Of course it isn’t for you. Why should it be for you? What makes you think that I’m not with someone and we just had a nasty fight?”

  “If that is the case, then let me stay and be here for you. You don’t look okay to me, Emma.”

  I haven’t been okay for over eight months now. This was nothing. “I’m okay, really. I’m just going to call someone, then all will be good.”

  Bass was acting like he wasn’t going to buy anything I told him tonight. “I’m right here. You can talk to me. You used to love talking to me. Why can’t it be me?”

  Was it just me or did that question stink of why we broke up? “We were never friends, Bass. Let’s not pretend that we were. I haven’t seen you in months. What is there to talk about?”

  “Nothing… everything,” Bass huskily said, disengaging me from reality, placing me in a trance-like state.

  His voice was so seductive that I felt it hypnotize my entire being. Was it because I was drunk? The more I wanted to snap out of the catatonic funk, the wearier I became.

  “Come here. Let me hold you till you sleep. You used to sleep like a baby in my arms.”

  “No,” I whispered weakly. However, he hadn’t cared about my words because he simply lifted me off the floor like I weighed nothing and carefully placed me on the bed.

  “You’re tired, so please let’s not argue or fight. I’m staying.” Bass stripped before me and I couldn’t help gawking at his delicious body. Leaving on his boxer-briefs, he moved towards the side-table and set his phone down before sliding in next to me, gathering me in his arms as he did so.

  I was afraid to move or even breathe because I was freaking out inside. What the hell? How did this happen so quickly? I was rehashing the events from when I realized that I lost my key when Bass shifted me onto my side, spooning against me.

  “Will you relax? You’re stiff as a board. I’m not going to have sex with you the minute you fall asleep.”

  “That certainly hasn’t stopped you before.” Recalling how many times we woke each other up in the middle of the night because we were ravenous.

  “Well, that was when you gave me unlimited access to your body so calm down. I’m only here to comfort you. Nothing more.” His arms pulled me closer against his chest, his nose hitting the back of my neck like how we used to fall asleep. It was weird, but listening to his steading breathing was lulling me to sleep.

  Just when I was on the brink of shutting my brain off I heard him whisper, “I’ve missed you. You don’t know just how much.”

  I’ve missed you, too, I thought with sadness before sleep finally won me over.

  I woke up the next day with Bass’s arms around me, still holding me close. Memories of last night made me teary. As much as I wanted to stay wrapped in his arms, I knew it wasn’t going to last long. He never mentioned anything about us, nor did I expect it from him.

  We just missed each other that was all. I shouldn’t dwell and formulate ideas as to why he did what he did last night because, if I did that, I would end up hurting myself more. I seriously couldn’t afford to be reckless with my actions. I was literally crawling to survive the last heartbreak. If the next one was just as bad, I was going straight to rehab this time.

  So, why put myself in the line of fire for the third time? I mean, there was no exaggeration when I said I had barely made it last time. I took a mighty chance in risking being with him last night. I had to cut my tiny piece of happiness short. Although my heart was bleeding, I slowly untangled myself from him.

  Spending all those nights with him in Greece told me that he was fast asleep.

  So, I readied myself and strode out of the room like the devil was chasing me. The next time I saw Bass, I was just going to pretend that last night hadn’t happened. It was best to keep him on the other side. Safer.

  For the next six hours, I went about the city of Munich; shopping, eating, walking and shopping some more until I was tired from it all. Yes, six long hours. Timing was everything and I needed to be sure that Bass left the hotel before I came back. He was bound to leave for Berlin this afternoon to attend some club opening. He was going to meet us in Paris at noon before we did another round of interviews.

  Walking inside the hotel foyer, I was greeted by one of the concierge people. “Miss Anderson? Would it be okay if I can get a picture with you?” the blue-eyed, blonde lady asked me kindly.

  “Sure, but I look really awful. If you’re okay with that, then I don’t mind.” I nodded with a smile, more conscious about my dire appearance. I hadn’t thought about taking pictures with fans when I left earlier. The main goal was to leave before Bass woke up. I really had to start considering that my life was not the same anymore.

  The woman gave me reassuring smile. “You look beautiful even without makeup. You should be happy because I can’t go out of my home without any.”

  “Thank you. You’re too kind.” I shifted the bags to my left arm and tried to straighten my crumpled hair before she asked another woman to take a picture of us.

  Five minutes later, I was on my way up, planning what to get from room
service and deciding that I was going to start my reading again. Carter… I had promised to call him, but I hadn’t spoken to him since Athens. Fetching my phone from inside my purse, I scrolled towards his name just as the elevator dinged to let me know I had arrived on my floor. Once it opened, I was startled to find Bass, standing at the foot of the elevator, with a large frown as his eyes examined my haphazard state before those azure depths pinned me down. “You left and I’ve been waiting ever since.”

  Why? I wanted to ask, but I held back. Instead, I smiled and tried to get past him, but he was unyielding as I kept pushing past him. After a long, drawn out, disconcerted sigh, he relented and moved to the side.

  A stifled groan emerged when I saw him follow me back towards my room. Walking ahead, I had to finally ask the reason why he’d been waiting for me. “I went out to shop. Weren’t you supposed to be gone already?”

  “That was the schedule, but I knew after last night, we have to talk.”

  Why? What the heck for? I thought as I reached for my key and went inside my suite. Placing my items on the silk-patterned sofa, I rounded towards the chaise lounge, sat and took off my shoes. This was my technique, biding time as I gathered my thoughts together.

  One thing was decided, though, I didn’t need Bass messing with my emotions again. It was best to just keep him at bay. “It’s fine. Nothing happened last night, Bass. I don’t know why you’re making a big deal out of it.”

  He strolled towards where I placed my shopping bags, face creased as he looked at me. “Well, I don’t feel fine.” He expressed another long, conflicted sigh.

  “You look okay to me.”

  “Well, I haven’t been, Em.” He tried to come closer to me, but I looked the other way, afraid of the intensity I found in his eyes.

  He was five feet away and yet, when he managed to speak, it felt like he was right next to me. “The second I heard your voice, I was in turmoil, but the moment my eyes gazed on you after eight months of absence, Emma—I felt…” Bass sounded like he was struggling to speak. “I’m…” he made a soft murmur, but it felt like a caress on my ear. “Emma?”