The Kiss | Part 3

Welcome back. I’m glad to see you made it to Part III 😉

It’s actually Wednesday at noon EST, (so technically I missed my morning deadline but I won’t tell, if you don’t…)

Today only means ONE thing on the blog: It’s time for another part of THE KISS to go live.

If you haven’t read Parts 1 + 2 from last week, don’t hesitate to catch up now.

THE KISS BLOG NOVEL SERIES:

Part 1

Part 2

And if you have read those already, then CARRY ON.

Today’s (uncorrected) Part 3 picks up after Deacon receives a long-anticipated phone call in the midst of throwing an important party.

KEEP READING to find out what other unanticipated party favors show up as well…

__________

KAYLA

It’s officially the worst “move-in” day I’ve ever had. And the day isn’t even over yet.

The Saturday afternoon sun is high—hotter than I ever remember. The street on which my apartment sits is sweltering, practically boiling beneath my flip-flops and as I grab for my TV, heaving it out of the back of the wide-mouthed U-Haul, I know somewhere in the back of my mind that I’m slowly being cooked to death.

You could fry an egg on the sidewalk…or on my head. A sheen of sweat coats the skin of my forehead and as I raise a forearm to swipe it, the television teeter-totters in my one arm.

I can’t believe how much has changed in the last six months.

A new job. A new city. 

A new life.

My entire New York existence (all sixty minutes of it) flashes before my eyes when another set of arms reach out, catching the glass square from my hands. I straighten to find myself staring into a set of warm brown eyes.

Sophia grins at me, and for the first time all day, I feel a twinge of hope that maybe this move won’t be the worst after all.

That is, until the TV slides from her sweaty hands, smashing on the sidewalk. I step around it, my breath coming out in huffs, hyperventilation works its way into my system as I turn, sit and settle on the step just outside of our apartment building—a brown, brick-built behemoth reaching towards the cloudless sky.

My new roommate sits beside me.

“Fuck me…” Sophia swears, leaning over. “I swear I’ll pay for that. I didn’t mean to…”

“Stop.” I’d hold out a hand, but I’m too tired from the hauling. I wipe at my brow. “You’re just as exhausted as me. Even more so.” I exhale. “Why didn’t I just pay for movers?”

“Because we don’t have mover money…”

It’s an admission I hate even letting hit the air. Reality settles in my stomach at the thought that my family’s money (or rather my father’s) won’t save me this time. Or ever again.

I was alone. For the first time ever. 

Especially now that Deacon and I weren’t speaking.

Sophia touches my arm. “I’m sorry…It’s probably the last thing you want to hear on your first day in the City.”

“No.” I shake my head. “The homeless guy around the corner asking me to touch his balls was the last thing I wanted to hear on my first day in the City.”

Sophia nods. “I think that’s the standard New York greeting.”

And she may be right. So far, New York’s welcome hasn’t been so nice…

In fact, the city had been downright mean from the second my plane’s tires touched down, skidding into the abnormally hot July asphalt with a screech.

Fate, it seems, had been attacking me from all ends. I couldn’t get out of it…and it was too late to turn back to where I came from.

Not that I’d want to, anyway…

To start off the day, I’d been triple-checked by security in the airport—a creepy agency guy practically shoving a detector wand into my cut-off shorts. My luggage had ripped spilled all over the airport tile.

And I’d been starving. So much so that I’d opted for a street cart hot dog…only to find a street cart rat scurry its way onto my plate.

Manhattan cuisine at its finest.

My only saving grace? Sophia.

My client (and good friend’s) sister-in-law was a breath of fresh air in a city that was currently stifling. When I’d had all of my belongings from Kansas dropped off at a local Harlem facility, she’d pick them up with a U-Haul.

Including me.

Three hours later, we were still unloading everything I owned into an apartment that was smaller than my old living room. And yet I was happier than I’d been in ages, my newly-found freedom and exhaustion both battling inside my body as I sit up straighter, determined to unload the last few items.

I glance at Sophia, pushing back a few of the slick brunette strands of hair that have fallen into her pretty face. She laughs.

“Am I as gross as I think I am?”

“Grosser,” I respond. I grunt as I stand. “But I am, too. Let’s finish this, shall we?” And with a heave, I pull her to her feet, finding the last sliver of strength in me as she takes my outstretched hand, following me towards the sizzling gray sidewalk.

We unload the rest of my belongings from the U-Haul.

An hour later, my brown hair soaked and outfit sweat-stained, I collapse on the laminate floor of my new bedroom, chest heaving, heart beating as I struggle to catch my breath, the late afternoon sun finally starting to settle behind the clouds as I glance towards the window.

Somehow, in the midst of move-in day from Hell, I find a grin spreading on my face. I take in my surroundings.

The walls are mostly white in my bedroom, except for one brick one. One tall window faces me and beside that window lays a layer of gray piping, adding an industrial feel to the entire space.

With the look of a newly renovated factory (and all the coldness of one), I imagine myself decorating the small area. Laying carpet. Inserting my bed.

Slapping a neon sign that says “Ma, I made it” on that hard brick wall and staring at the blinking bastard every night.

I relax in the small knowledge that this is the first risky move I’ve made for myself in…well, ever, when my cell phone suddenly rings. I fish the phone from my back pocket, answering as soon as I see the name on the screen.

A name I’ve been waiting to see all day.

I almost shriek into the phone, my dry voice a harsh scream.

“Christ, Elsie, I was wondering when you were going to call!”

My best friend laughs out loud on the other end. “Go easy on me, Kay! I’ve been in the studio all day with a monster of a cold coming down. I’m absolutely beat.”

I snort. “You have no idea of what the meaning of ‘beat’ is until you try to move into an apartment in this weather. I almost had heat-stroke…”

“I can’t believe you tried to move your own stuff,” Elsie exhales. “Are you nuts? It’s a record-high today. Hot enough to fry an omelet right in the middle of the street.”

I shake my limbs out again on the floor, the back of my head finally cooling down as I lay my cheek against the wood beneath me, fighting not to roll my eyes. I think back to the rough few hours that nearly killed me. I grit out the words. “Already noted.”

But Elsie is already chastising me. Doing what she does best.

Being a friend.

Having a superstar singer for a bestie wasn’t easy. Especially when she’d built the career on her own.

Winning singing competition American Superstar in front of the entire country wasn’t luck for a new phenom like Elsie Carpenter; it was a calling.

And the curly-haired blonde girl that I’d known at fourteen had flourished into a global superstar in front of all of our Kansan-born and bred eyes. Taking the world by storm with none other than TV show Tattoo Gods superstar (and my brother), Brett Jackson, wrapped around her now-millionaire dollar arm.

And I was proud of her.

Prouder than I’d been of myself in a long, long time. Especially when I’d spent all twenty-four years of my life depending on other people. 

Moving to New York was only the first step. At least, for me.

On Monday, I’d start as the newest PR agent at Stanton Public Relations. 

I just had to actually make it to Monday first…

A certifiable feat if my wobbly legs and hammering heart didn’t give out before then. I sigh on the phone, stopping Elsie in her mother-like lecturing tracks. I let out a long breath.

“Elsie, I love you…but I had to do this for me. You came here to New York to sing because that was your dream…”

“Yeah, but…”

“Making it my own in this city is mine,” I interrupt. “And no offense, but I can’t exactly make it on my own if I’m reaching out to you, Brett or my father every time I’m in a bind.” I exhale once again. “I’m okay,” I say, hoping I believe it. “I’m a big girl, Else. Or if I was, I’m not anymore after leaving fifty pounds of sweat on the sidewalk. Let’s say a prayer I won’t waste away.”

“You won’t,” I hear Elsie assert. “I won’t let you.”

I smile. “Good to know.”

“But speaking of ‘wasting away’… “ I can hear the mischief in her girlish voice. “How’s about drinks tonight?”

My brow furrows. “Drinks?”

“Yeah, there’s this party happening downtown. Turns out that ridiculously hot baseball player Sevin Smith is throwing a bit of a…”

But her words are cut off, interrupted by a muffled noise in the background. Elsie comes back on the phone line in seconds.

“Shit, works never stops, it seems. I’ve gotta go, Kay. Finish up this studio sesh.” She coughs lightly on the other end, a thickened sound that draws my attention, but I let it go. “I’ll call you as soon as I’m done. Now excuse me while I go inhale a hundred cough drops first for this cold.”

I snort out a laugh. “Anytime, sicko. Just feel better.”

“I will. Talk to you later.” And then she’s gone.

But my roommate isn’t. 

Moments after hanging up with Elsie, I find myself imitating a starfish on the floor as I splay my tired limbs out. But it’s not enough to stop Sophia from interrupting my early onsetting slumber, as she storms into the room, her footfalls heavy as she stops just short of me by a few feet, her tiny breath emitting in spurts.

I keep my eyes closed.

“Sophia, if you love me, you’ll return back to where you came from and stay there. For the next two days.”

Her voice is excited when she responds. “Sorry. Can’t. Not when the social event of the season is happening tonight. Right here in the City.”

“I’m pretty sure this nap I’m preparing to take is the social event of the season…”

“Well, whatever dream guy your nap could create won’t hold a candle to this guy…”

I open my eyes. Just as Sophia shoves her phone screen in my face with a picture of one of the most gorgeous guys I’ve ever seen shown on the surface.

I grab the phone, holding it closer, even as my arm aches. I raise an eyebrow.

“His name is Sevin Smith. Baseball god. And the Chicago Cougars’s newest player after the Yankees stupidly,” she tumbles her eyes mid-sentence, “traded him.” She reaches for her phone back, and I let it go—reluctantly. Sophia’s pink lips widen into a grin, her entire face lighting up as she clutches her cell to her chest, sweat stains and all.

She does a little dance.

“But here’s the kicker…” Her eyebrows arch skyward. “Sevin is holding a secret party to celebrate his last few weeks in New York. And guess who has the inside scoop on where the party’s going to be tonight?”

“If it’s not you, I’m going back to sleep. And you can shut the door on your way out.”

Sophia leans down, slapping my leg on the floor. I’d slap her back…but I’ve lost most feeling in each limb. I watch as she wiggles her hips in front of me, the little dance turning into a full-on jig.

I can’t help but laugh at her infectious mood.

“Of course it’s me,” she sings aloud, her voice surprisingly clear and pretty. “And you and I are going.” She heads for the door. “I have a friend connection at the bar that’s hosting the party.”

“Which is?”

“A little rustic spot called The Alchemist.” She glances over her shoulder before exiting. “You’ll like it. It’s got some of the best beer in the area. And the owner is melt-your-panties-off fine. We leave in one hour.”

I groan. So much for sleeping for the next two days.

__________

Are you liking it so far? Or loving it?

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And find out what happens NEXT WEDNESDAY in Part 4 after when two old friends find themselves in the same place and an unexpected guest crashes the party.

Literally.

Tell your romance reading buddies, and tune in for more THE KISS next week.

Happy Wednesday!