Lost in You

time. Maybe then I wouldn’t be afraid to bend over or sit down.
    As soon as I hit the pavement I immediately regret walking this way. Cole is leaning against his car, his arms across his chest and his legs crossed. He looks like he’s posing for the cover of a car magazine. Thing is, if someone took a picture, he’d probably be asked the next day. He has that charisma about him. He can sell you on anything with just his looks. I should know. I paid dearly for it.
    I pause when he steps forward. I’m not prepared to deal with him. The last thing I want is to talk to him, especially out in public. I look around for any photographers, wary of what Alex said to me. What if this is just all a set up by Ian, some ploy to get Ryan and me apart?
    “Looks like you need a ride,” he says with such sincerity that I almost believe he’s an honest person. But then again, I could be over-analyzing everything when it comes to him.
    “I’ll walk.” I set down my heels and step into them, surprised that my feet don’t scream in pure agony. I make a mental note to start carrying around a bag. I’ll make it couture or whatever, but something that I can keep some flip-flops in.
    “You can’t walk back to your hotel.”
    “Yes, I can.” The first few steps are okay, but the hard concrete and each push of my foot into the toes of my shoes is an unwelcome feeling.
    Cole grabs my arm, halting my steps. I pull away, turn and look at him. I hope I’m conveying the right amount of anger. He steps back and holds up his hands.
    “I’m just trying to help.”
    “You’ve done enough.”
    “Babe, come on, we’re going to be working together.” He steps forward. “The long days and nights will be spent with each other. You know how things get on the road. You’ll get lonely. I’ll get lonely. I know how to make you sing.”
    I shake my head. I won’t ever turn to him. I learned my lesson the first time. “Shut up, Cole,” I say as I take a step closer. “I haven’t forgotten what you did. What I said. How I felt. It’s fresh every time I think about my boyfriend and being away from him. I wonder if he would do the same things that you did while I was away.”
    “You never let me explain.”
    I throw my hands up and scoff. “I’m not stupid. I know what sex looks like.”
    I turn and walk away from him. I was wrong. I can’t work with him. I don’t care if it’s what’s best for my career or not. I’ll quit.
    I make it three blocks before I have to pull off my heels. I’m doing more damage by walking in them. I’ll just have to schedule a pedicure tomorrow. I ignore the honking of car horns, knowing better than to turn around. I pull my hair forward, shielding my face from onlookers. The last thing I need is for my picture in the tabloids with some flashy headline about me walking down Sunset with no shoes on.
    Or maybe that is exactly what I need. The perfect headline that will send Ian into a tizzy and he’ll have no other option but to give me what I need. Sounds dirty, but I’m willing to play if it means I can be with Ryan more.
    I round the corner that will lead to my hotel. The home stretch, thank God. I have to stop when a car pulls into a parking garage. The window rolls down, the blue eyes I know so well staring at me before his face shows.
    “Are you following me?”
    He doesn’t answer. He gets out of the car and comes toward me. I could yell and scream. Make a scene that brings out the police, but I’m not given any time. He scoops me up, cradling me like he did so many times when we were together. My arms go around him, hanging on for dear life as he swings us around.
    The bright flash of light blinds me. The distinct sound of clicking fills my ears. I hide my face in his neck, realizing a second too late what I’ve done.
    They’re like vultures, getting closer, blocking Cole’s attempt to get me into the car. He isn’t saying anything, neither of us answering the same question being asked repeatedly. “ Are you back together?”
    I scream at the top of my lungs as soon as he shuts my door. I count the seconds until he’s inside. Thirty seconds pass and then a minute. I turn and look. Is he talking to them? Are they blocking his way to the door?
    He finally opens his door. The flashes start again. They are taking photos of me, shoeless and dirty with road grime. I know I said I didn’t care, but that was before. Now I’m screwed.
    “What the hell was that?”
    He shakes his head