The Surprise 🌶️

FREYA

“You were incredible!” I exclaimed as the band walked off the stage.

Liam, drenched in sweat, loped toward me with a massive, exhausted grin.

I held open my arms, preparing to throw them around Liam, but he held me off.

“You ~really~ don’t want to do that—trust me.” Liam smirked, running a hand through his drenched hair.

One of the crew members tossed him a towel, and he gratefully wiped the beads of sweat dripping from his face and neck.

I longed to take his hand into mine, to go somewhere alone, just the two of us—but then I heard the ~click~ of heels behind me and turned to see Lucinda.

“It’s about that time,” she instructed Liam, and he nodded.

Liam turned to me. “I have to do a few meet and greets with some contest winners and people with backstage passes. It shouldn’t take too long,” he explained.

~Here we go again.~

“Wait for me in my dressing room, okay?” Liam said, pecking me on the cheek quickly as Lucinda pulled him away.

“Oh—I—okay.”

I didn’t have much of a choice.

In a second, he disappeared around the bend, out of sight.

“Miss Freya,” said Daryl, approaching me. “Want me to take you back there?”

~No.~

“Yes, please,” I replied.

***

I stared at myself in the mirror of the tiny dressing room, noticing how tired I looked beneath the layers of makeup.

The black lacy dress that Ryan had chosen for me was starting to dig into my skin along the seams.

~I just want to go back to the hotel room.~

It felt like hours since I’d seen Liam, and checking my phone, I realized that it ~actually had~ been hours.

~Is this normal? What could possibly be taking so long?~

I imagined him meeting the women from the front row, without a stage separating them, as they desperately vied for his attention.

My phone buzzed, and I practically jumped, hoping it was Liam.

Or someone who could tell me how much longer I was expected to wait in limbo.

Ryan

hey hey

Ryan

will i be seeing u at the afterparty, babe?

Freya

There’s an after-party?

Ryan

yes, silly

Ryan

🍻🎉

Ryan

always

Freya

Damn…no one tells me anything

Freya

Yeah, I guess so

Ryan

i better see u!

Ryan

i want to show off my masterpiece to everyone 😉

~Shit.~

Another photo op. Another place where I would barely get two seconds with Liam before I would be left to fend for myself.

Just then, Liam burst through the door looking exhausted and walked straight up to me, pulling me to him.

“I thought it would never end,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around me.

~Me too.~

“Everything go okay?” I asked.

“The usual hysterics,” he replied, pulling back and ripping off his T-shirt.

“I’m sorry,” I replied, trying to peel my gaze from the perfect ab muscles directly in front of my face.

My eyes then drifted to the tattoo on his chest.

~Their choice is to leave.~

Liam shrugged his shoulders, snapping my attention back to his face. “It’s the job. Sorry I kept you waiting for so long.”

He planted a kiss on top of my head and then let me go, heading toward the bathroom.

“It’s…” I replied, watching him enter the ensuite and switch on the shower. “It’s fine.”

Liam peered his head around the door, and I forced a smile.

“Can you survive another five minutes while I take a shower?” he asked.

I plopped myself back onto the tiny couch. “Of course.”

His satisfied grin disappeared around the frame of the door. “Good. We have to be somewhere, and I don’t want to show up all sweaty and disgusting.”

“You mean the after-party?” I called after him, watching his pair of jeans fling through the open door.

“Nah, we’re blowing that off,” Liam replied.

~Are we allowed to do that?~

“I have a surprise for you,” Liam continued coyly.

“A surprise?”

***

“Alright, I know you said you’re not going to murder me…but I’m having some serious doubts,” I told Liam, gripping his hand firmly as he helped me out of the SUV.

I adjusted the piece of black fabric that was tied around my eyes, blindfolding me.

~A dramatic touch.~

“Daryl, James—you’re with us. Hang back a little. The rest of you can take the next few hours off,” Liam said, and I realized I’d forgotten the entire entourage of security guys that were sitting silently in the car with us.

I heard a few murmurs of agreement as the door slammed behind me.

“Could you maybe, you know, take this thing off?” I asked, gesturing to the blindfold.

“Oh—yeah. Sorry,” he stammered.

~Is he nervous?~

My surroundings suddenly came into view.

We stood before a semi-dome-like structure, with half of its entrance made of glass. The inside was lit in a warm, yellow light, which cast invitingly into the dark night.

Two men stood before the entrance of the museum, smiling at us expectantly.

I sucked in a breath.

It was the Van Gogh Museum.

“Did I do okay?” he asked timidly.

“I—you—yes!” I exclaimed, throwing my arms around him. “Are you kidding me right now? This is…”

I was at a complete loss for words.

I’d only ever dreamed of visiting this place.

~And here I am.~

“But wait.” I turned to Liam despondently. “It’s, like, two in the morning. How did you…”

Liam grinned knowingly and shrugged his shoulders. “What’s the point of having all of this money if I can’t use it to bribe people?”

Liam pulled me along to the entrance of the museum, with our security guards trailing close behind. “Good evening, Mr. Henderson,” said one of the museum employees in a thick Dutch accent. “Miss Coleman.” He nodded, and I could think of no better response than to wave back.

“Please,” said the other, “let us know if you need anything at all.”

“Thank you,” Liam replied, smiling politely.

I paused as they opened the doors for us, trying to savor every second of the surreal moment.

“Come on,” Liam insisted, tugging my hand. “Let’s go check out this dead guy’s stuff. I’ve heard he’s pretty good.”

As I followed him into the first exhibit, the self-portraits, my jaw dropped.

~This is like a dream.~

“This is the guy who cut off his ear, right?” Liam asked, wandering over to me.

“Yeah…”

“Personally, I don’t see what the big deal is,” Liam announced.

“Liam,” I hissed. “You can’t say that in here!”

“Why not? Who’s going to hear me? Him?” He nodded toward the portrait in front of us, cracking a smile.

I stalked away to the next portrait. “Maybe.”

“I just think yours are better than this dude’s,” he said earnestly, following me.

“That’s very sweet of you, but please stop insulting Vincent,” I replied, trying to stifle the grin that was surely spreading across my face.

“‘Vincent,’ is it?” he joked, spinning me around to face him. “You guys are on a first-name basis?”

His eyes danced devilishly as he pulled me in close, his lips brushing against mine.

“Yes,” I murmured, kissing him back as his hands began to roam from the small of my back to my waist, then steadily north…

Liam pulled back suddenly. “I think Vincent is watching us,” he whispered into my ear, glancing at the self-portrait in front of us.

I followed his gaze, giggling. “You’re ridiculous sometimes, you know that?” I shoved him away, moving on to the next painting.

“That’s why you keep coming back, baby.”

LIAM

As we walked up to a canvas filled with sunflowers, Freya took my hand, igniting a fire with her delicate touch, and it was utterly exhilarating.

I couldn’t get enough of her.

Or this night.

I never wanted it to end.

~I wish it could always be like this.~

“I can’t believe you did this, Liam,” Freya whispered.

“We’re not finished yet.”

“What?”

“I have one more surprise for you,” I said excitedly before I led her to the next room.

Freya gasped in surprise when she saw the picnic laid out on the gallery floor.

Candles were the only light in the room apart from the moon shining through the glass. “I know it’s not outside in the gardens, but that would have been a security nightmare. I wanted it to be perfect, and I know it’s—”

She silenced my ramblings with a gentle kiss.

“This is perfect,” she whispered, pulling away from me slowly. “I got to see the Van Gogh Museum without any crowds, and I had a rock star as my tour guide.”

She smiled as we settled on the blanket.

“It’s just the beginning, Frey,” I promised. “I know being in my life comes with a lot of downfalls, but I want to show you that I can make this work. I promise you I can.”

I meant it.

Seeing her there—the black dress that made her skin look like milk—I couldn’t help myself.

I inched closer to her and reached out to trace her heart-shaped face, my fingers hovering at the indent of her chin, then slowly moving down her neck.

Soft goosebumps formed under my fingertips as I paused at her chest.

I could see her nipples hardening through the semi-sheer material, and my eyes suddenly snapped back up to meet hers.

Freya was staring at me, transfixed.

“Freya—”

Her fingers snaked into my hair, bringing my face to hers, and then she was kissing me, pressing her subtle curves against my body.

My free hand wandered down her back, shifting her hips in closer to mine. I felt the familiar arousal working its way into my groin, hardening.

Freya moaned, feeling it too, and rolled herself on top of me.

~Shit.~

As her fingers grasped hold of the hem of my shirt, attempting to pull it over my head, a shred of self-discipline hit me.

~I can’t…~

“No,” I managed to say, unlocking my lips from hers. I shifted my weight, rolling her off of me, and inched away from her, turning my back.

“Liam?” Her gentle voice was laden with shock, and worse—with hurt.

“Why does this keep happening?” Freya asked quietly. “Am I doing something wrong?”

~Of course not.~

How could I explain it to her?

There was nothing I wanted more in the world than to take her completely, to make love to her…a term I had shuddered at before.

But I couldn’t.

“I know what you must think of me,” I said quietly, my shoulders slumping.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s what everyone thinks. And they’re not wrong,” I said, feeling a lump forming in the back of my throat. “All of the actresses and models and groupies…different girls each night.”

The picnic blanket shifted as she scooted closer to me. I could feel her breath on my neck.

“Liam, I don’t—”

“I’m a—a player. A manwhore. Whatever you call it.” I gritted my teeth.

I couldn’t change my past and I feared that any time Freya looked at me, she would see ~them~, and maybe wonder just how long before I reverted back to that version of myself.

Freya rested her chin on my shoulder.

“You probably think I set up this entire night just to get laid,” I said.

“No, I don’t.”

She turned my face so that I would look at her finally.

“Frey, I just want to prove to you that I’m not just trying to sleep with you. I’m here for ~you~,” I murmured, feeling her eyes devouring mine.

Her next words left me hopeful and breathless, and floating higher than any drug I could take.

“You don’t have to prove yourself to me…I trust you.”

“You do?” I whispered.

Freya nodded.

“So shut up,” she said with a grin, “and take me back to the hotel.”