She used that exact phrase and followed it withAlso, if that’s the code phrase your friends pick, I don’t want to know what code phrases your enemies would use.
We texted for hours.
I almost missed a flight.
I had my business manager do the paperwork for the pool house rental. She moved in while I was gone and texted me pictures of the plants around my pool to assure me they were still alive under her watch.
When I got back, she was traveling, so I texted her pictures of the pool house to show her it was still standing.
We texted other stuff too.
Long day shooting. This is a nice life, but sometimes it wears you out.
I was doing a set at this club in Boston and someone started throwing those weird gummy Nerds things at me.
Saw my family today for the first time in months. I always forget how much I miss them until I see them.
Must be nice—my hedgehog is basically my family. Well, and Waverly.
Waverly’s name should’ve been a clue, but it wasn’t, because I didn’t pay attention to the young woman Waverly introduced me to one night at a party at my place several months before Beck pinged me.
Waverly and I weren’t tight, so meeting Aspen was no more of a thing than meeting up-and-coming actresses at other parties around town. I registered meeting someone new, introduced by someone that I assumed worked the game the same as I did. I recognized our paths likely wouldn’t cross again, or if they did, it would come with a formal introduction from my agent, and I moved on to hanging out with my inner circle.
I probably hit six parties that week.
It’s what you do when you’re in town for a few days and you’re looking for what’s next and you want to network and see a few friends.
Seven months into Aspen living in my pool house, we were finally both there at the same time. Ironic, considering I’d helped her find Commander Crumpet a new home without ever actually seeing her in person.
I was nervous as fucking hell to meet this woman that I was obsessed with.
Probably had three fake girlfriends in the time we’d been texting.
I hadn’t hooked up with any of them because they didn’t live up to what I imagined Aspen to be.
My hands were sweating. Mouth was dry. Dick and heart half clenched in terror that the vibe I got through texts wouldn’t be the same vibe I’d get in person.
I was nervous to knock on the door of my own damn pool house.
But I did it.
And when she opened the door, soaking wet from her hair to her crop top to her baggy cotton shorts to her painted toenails, I almost choked on my own tongue before getting a word out.
“You’re blonde,” I’d blurted, barely stopping myself from sayingthirteenand swapping it out for her hair color at the last possible second.
Pretty hazel eyes stared back at me with a deadassI look like I just went for a dip in your pool with all of my clothes on, and you want to talk about my hair color?
And the thought of her swimming in my pool—naked, to be completely honest, despite the fact that she was wearing clothes at the time—made my dick do things it definitely should not have done aroundWaverly Sweet’s best friend, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-four years old, and whom I finally recognized for who she actually was.
She asked me if I knew a good plumber because the dishwasher had just made a weird noise, and when she opened the door, the sprayers stayed on and soaked the entire kitchenette.
I got to play hero because I knew how to shut off the water line.
And then I went back inside my house and jerked off to images of her thanking me with her mouth on my cock.
Nothing has been right in my world since.
Including now, when Aspen’s smirking at me, which isn’t doing anything to relieve the pressure in my dick. “You thought I was some waitress who should’ve given up her dreams a decade or two ago.”
