Calendar Girl: November

By: Audrey Carlan

Calendar Girl: November



Book 11







Chapter One





Snowflakes. Unique, fragile, and no two were alike. Absolutely fascinating. I caught one in my mouth as they fell from the sky. It melted the instant it touched my tongue. The flurries held me spellbound as several fell onto my eyelashes, momentarily distorting my vision. I blinked them away and exhaled. A cloud of mist from my heated breath mimicked a plume of smoke. Holding my hands out wide, I spun in a slow circle, allowing the featherlight flakes to land on my face and open hands.

“If you’re done playing in the snow, can we go into the hotel already?” Wes laughed. “I’m freezing!” He pressed his frozen nose into the warmth at my neck. He circled his arms around me from behind, hugging me close. I covered his arms with mine.

“It’s so cool! It rarely snows in Vegas and definitely not in LA.” I watched in awe at nature's wonder.

He snuggled against my neck, placing a layer of kisses up the column. “It is cool…as in my balls are freezing, and my dick has turned into an icicle.”

“Well, I always did love flavored ice.” I giggled and spun around, bringing us face-to-face. “Thank you for coming with me. Honestly, I wasn’t ready to be away from you.”

Wes smiled in the way that made me want to jump him. Good Lord, my man was smokin' hot, even bundled up wearing a beanie.

“Who would pass up two weeks in New York City with a beautiful lady?” He leaned close, rubbed our noses together, and pecked me on the lips.

Liar. When the show told me I had to go to the Big Apple for a couple weeks and film celebrities for Dr. Hoffman’s special Be Thankful segment as well as my Living Beautiful weekly piece, he didn’t seem all that interested. Said he avoided the East Coast like the plague during the winter months. Guess the Atlantic Ocean wasn’t warm enough or the waves conducive to a hardcore surfer…and the temperatures compared to California’s Gold Coast were positively frigid.

I’d settled on the fact that I’d be without Wes for two weeks, which for me was too soon after his captivity. The mere thought of being separated from him for any length of time gave me hives, but I did everything I could to act unaffected. He was on the road to recovery and doing incredibly well with his therapy. The last thing I wanted him to think was that I didn’t believe he could handle himself for two weeks without his overprotective girlfriend to watch over him.

It wasn’t until I’d made plans to interview my buddy Mason Murphy, star pitcher for the Red Sox, and Anton Santiago, the Latin Lov-ah, that he changed his mind. One night last week, Wes confided that he'd had an entire session with his therapist, Anita Shofner, about the men I still had in my life. He knew I took calls regularly from Mason, Tai, Anton, Alec, Hector, and Max. Of course, he didn’t mind calls from Max, my long lost brother, or Hector, because he was gay and in a committed relationship with Tony. He admitted to being a bit jealous of the other four men. He’d met Anton and appreciated that the Latin Lov-ah had helped me through a difficult time, but he straight up did not trust him due to his reputation for being a ladies' man. Even Mason, who was head over heels in love with his PR gal, Rachel, had his hackles rising.

Did I say anything about it though? Nope. Not if it got my man to come to NYC with me. I knew it was cruel, but when he’d asked what I’d be doing with the men after I interviewed them, I just shrugged and told him I'd do whatever they wanted to do. Five minutes later, Wes was packing a suitcase.



* * *



“When are we meeting with your friends?” There was a hint of irritation in his tone. His reaction to seeing Anton again and meeting Mason was odd. My guy had always been really down to Earth and comfortable in his own skin. Only, after the experience in Indonesia, he still hadn’t gotten completely back to his easy-going self. His therapist assured me it would take time and to continue to give him something good to focus on—that being us, and our burgeoning relationship.

“This evening, we’re meeting with Anton and Heather. He’s planned dinner for us at his pad. Mace and Rach don’t come in until later in the week.” What I didn’t tell Wes was that Anton had offered us the use of his penthouse in Manhattan for our stay. I knew Wes wouldn’t be thrilled. When we were in Miami, he liked Anton well enough, but that was when we were just admitting our love for one another. We were too busy worrying about what the other thought to be concerned with anyone else around us.

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