Prologue
Colton
The contract sitting on the desk in front of me beckons. All it needs is my signature, and then I’m off to the Big Apple. If you’d asked me when I was eighteen, what I'd be doing the year I turned twenty-seven, I wouldn’t have told you in a million years that I'd be jetting off to New York to model underwear.
London is cold and dreary today, as we head into autumn. The chilly days have taken over the warmth of summer. And this evening looks like it’s taking a turn for the worst. Droplets spatter the window of my home office, and the clouds hang heavy with the threat of incessant rain.
I glance at the contract once more, picking up the pen and signing my name on the dotted line, initialling every page. The date confirms I’ll be flying out within a week.
I should call Simon, my mate, who is over in the US right now. He’s all loved up and happy while I’m here still playing the field. Don’t get me wrong; I’m happy for him, but I can’t settle down. Just the thought of it makes me break out in hives.
Pushing away from the desk, I head into the kitchen and grab a beer from the fridge. After today, I’m back on my gym routine, which is always rigorous when I’m shooting.
The life of someone in the public eye isn’t easy, and that’s where I think Simon got the better deal. Even though his job is to save lives, which would stress me the fuck out, the pressure to look good twenty-four seven can get tiring.
My phone vibrates on the counter, and I pick it up to see my best mate’s name flashing on the screen.
“I was just thinking about you, mate,” I answer. The time zones never allow us enough time to have a long conversation, but since I’m up late, he’s finally caught me.
“I knew you wanted me,” he taunts.
“Oh yeah, baby.” I laugh out loud, shaking my head as I flop on the couch and flick on the telly before I blurt, “I’m coming to New York.”
“What? When?” he questions excitedly.
Sighing, I smile at the ceiling as I announce, “Got that contract I was telling you about. I’m going to be shaking my arse on billboards across America.”
“Jesus, I may have to move again, taking my wife with me.”
“Why? Scared that she’ll want me more than you as soon as she sees my fine physique?” Another taunt and I know if he were here, I’d get a swat against the back of my head for that.
“You fucking wish,” he bites back. Our banter is something that most people never understood. They were convinced we were fighting or arguing, but this is how our friendship was formed, and when he left, I focused on work. He was the only person I kept in touch with since leaving college.
“So, when do you arrive?”
“Next week. Waiting on the agency to get the flight details, and I’ll send them on to you. I know you’re not near New York, but it would be good to meet up.”
“Yeah, I’d like that. Would you consider staying here? Long term?” It’s something I have thought about, but nothing really made me want to take the plunge. Yes, being close to Simon would be great, but other than that, I think our worlds are so far apart we wouldn’t see each other much anyway.
“Maybe,” I answer, honestly.
He sighs, and I know what’s coming. “You may meet someone, fall in love, and then you'd have to settle down sometime, mate.” He tells me the same thing he’s told me since he first met his lovely wife. She really did change him. I remember when he first moved into the apartment, she was renting. He was so afraid of her, and her son, of caring about them.
“Coming from the man, I had to convince to stay there and finally make an honest man of himself.” My goad earns me a chuckle. It’s one of the reasons I give him shit. I recall how afraid he was about feeling anything for Bridget, but they couldn’t fight their attraction for very long.
“Yeah, sure you did. And look how happy I am.” He’s right. I’ve seen the photos — he is happy. The thought is tempting, I can’t deny knowing what they have has had me thinking about a possible future with someone. But I also enjoy my freedom. At least, that’s what I call it. Simon would say it’s my fear of being locked down to one woman for the rest of my life, and perhaps that’s true, but for now, I need to focus on work.
“I’ll call you next week when I land.”
“You do that,” Simon tells me before hanging up.
Time to pack and figure out just what I’m going to be taking with me to my new life.
I can’t see myself falling in love anytime soon, but I know New York has a bevy of beauties, and I’m going to make sure I meet them all. With a grin on my face and my excitement slowly climbing, I pull out the suitcase that has taken me all over the world.
Call it intuition, but this thing has brought me good luck all my life, and it’s going with me all the way across the pond. Who knows what it will bring me when I arrive?
1
Colton
Since the plane landed an hour ago, I’ve been whisked into a town car, and we’re heading down the busy streets of New York to the Manhattan penthouse suite they’ve secured for my stay in the city.
The bustling sidewalks of the Big Apple are alive. Tourists, people racing to get to work, and bicycles weaving through the traffic, which is packed with yellow cabs trying to collect passengers.
I take it all in, noticing how different the energy of New York is to the craziness of London. The June heat is suffocating outside, but in the car, I’m kept cool with the welcome air conditioning.
“Here we are, sir,” the driver informs me as we pull up to a fancy-looking hotel. Flags wave in the breeze. Countries like United Kingdom, Germany, and even Australia represent themselves on the exterior of the cracking-looking building, and I look forward to my new home for the next few months. I’m not sure how long I’ll be here, but it doesn’t hurt living in the lap of luxury.
“Thank you.” I smile at him before exiting the car. The trunk is opened, and the bell boy is already working on getting the luggage onto a gilded trolley. I head inside, making a beeline for the reception desk.
“Good morning, sir. How can I help you?” A smile from a gorgeous woman is always appreciated, especially after an eight-hour flight.
“Hello, darling.” I offer her a grin. “I’m Colton King, checking into the penthouse suite.”
Her eyes widen. Recognition flits in her pretty green eyes before she nods with another bright smile. “Of course, sir,” she replies as she taps on the keyboard. “Can I have your passport, please?”
I slide the deep red little booklet over to her, and I watch as she plugs away at the computer. Her bright-red nails match the pouty lips that purse as she inserts the information into the system.
It doesn’t take long for her to hand over the key card and explain how to get up to the top floor. She calls over one of the staff to escort me and my luggage up, and I’m tempted to leave my private number for her, but I don’t.
Focus, Colton.
The ride to the top of the skyscraper takes longer than I expect, but the moment I step out of the elevator, I’m standing outside the door to my apartment. The place that will be my home for the next few months.