Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Finn glanced at him. “Aren’t you?”
The idea infuriated Damien. “No!” But it made him think. Crystal was relationship material. Of course she was. But she’d been his friend for so long that it was hard to mentally make the transition.
From the moment she’d suddenly emerged as this sexy, confident woman he wanted to throw onto the nearest available bed… well, going back to just being friends didn’t seem like a viable option.
The thought thrilled him and terrified him in equal measure.
Chapter Seventeen
Damien ended up staying for dinner at his folks’ place. It was nice helping in the kitchen as he and his mom made a stir-fry, with tofu for him and chicken for the others. Then he drove into the hills to his own home, figuring it was about time he got things ready for Opal’s arrival the next morning. He was looking forward to it, partly because he needed to actually organize himself if he was really going to stay in Carmel for a while, and partly because he was in need of a massive distraction.
He’d been playing it cool for his family, but underneath, Damien was going crazy. Crystal wouldn’t answer his calls or his texts. He’d even tried emailing her with a desperate one-liner: Please call me, D. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t leave things the way they were. Not once in their fifteen-year friendship had they ever not spoken. He just wanted things to go back to the way they’d always been with each other. Free and easygoing. Knowing they had each other’s backs no matter what. Each time he dialed her number, he imagined saying, “Hey, how’s it going?” and just snapping back to the easy way it had always been.
But Crystal wasn’t playing ball. Oh, she was playing some game, all right, but it wasn’t the one he wanted to play. He thought about going over to her place and forcing her to talk to him, but frankly, he didn’t trust himself. She had lit some kind of fire in his blood that he didn’t know how to quench. He’d always thought she was a good-looking woman, but suddenly she was the most gorgeous, sexy woman he’d ever laid eyes on. And the way she moved on that dance floor! It sent him spinning into fantasies of the sexiest kind and his whole body began to long for hers, to take her into his arms and—
He shook his head. There he went again.
He showered when he got home, tossing his work clothes in the laundry, then walked to the big windows at the front of the house to stare out. He loved this house in the hills, high above the Pacific Ocean. He’d helped to design this place and his dad and brother had built it, catering to his need for privacy and his love of the incredible rugged cliffs and the endless stretch of coastline in the far distance. The style was modern yet organic, with large glass windows that framed the breathtaking scenery like living artwork. The walls were adorned with a mix of contemporary and vintage pieces, each telling a story of his travels and experiences.
He walked around the open, airy interior, with its vaulted ceilings and wooden beams. A grand stone fireplace served as the centerpiece of the living room, surrounded by plush sofas and eclectic furniture. Music memorabilia, old guitars, and rare vinyl records filled the shelves. His housekeeping team had come that day and the place was spotless, his fridge filled.
The kitchen was a chef’s dream, with state-of-the-art appliances and an expansive island that looked out over the rolling hills. Outside, a sprawling deck stretched across the back of the house, leading to a serene garden that bloomed with wildflowers and native plants. This was one of Damien’s favorite places and he often retreated to this peaceful haven to unwind and meditate, surrounded by the tranquillity of the surrounding forest, with the pool and guest house on the other side of the wildflower garden. His studio had its own space hidden among the trees, where he could be assured of the most privacy. Not that many fans made the trek up here, but it happened from time to time.
He opened the doors and went out to the garden, meandering along the stone path. The plants had recently been watered, also by the staff and, unlike them, Damien was in a bit of a dry patch. He’d grown tired of sleeping with groupies a long time ago. His last semi-serious relationship had ended when the British actress he was seeing had taken a part that took her to India for several months. They’d both realized their relationship didn’t mean enough to either of them for her to give up the part and travel with him, or for him to cut short his concert tour. They’d said goodbye in a palazzo in Venice that she’d borrowed from a director friend of hers. They’d been kind to one another in that luxurious, beautiful place and, at the end, they’d kissed goodbye and wished each other well. In the two years he’d been with her, he couldn’t recall once feeling as overwhelmed by passion as he did for Crystal.