- b4153725320fez uma citaçãoano passado
will always find a way.
LATER THAT NIGHT, after his shift at The Popped Cherry, Robbie found himself standing in his nonna’s kitchen. It was the first time he’d been home since the accident, and the once bright and lively space was now cast in shadows, as the moonlight slipped through the curtains.
He still couldn’t believe how much his life had changed over the course of a week. First, he’d started to date, really date, two men. And as if that wasn’t mind-blowing enough—among other things being blown—one was the gorgeous celebrity chef he’d spent most of his twenties fantasizing about, and the other was Joel Priestley, the man who had set him on edge from the minute they’d met. He’d just never known why.
But now he knew. Priest saw him. He saw Robbie the minute he stepped into view, and from that moment, he’d been watching and waiting for Robbie to stop running. To stop being so scared of taking a risk.
As he stood there looking around the room where he’d shared many meals with Nonna, Robbie felt his heart tighten. Things could’ve been so much worse; he knew that. He’d seen on Julien’s face last night that something much worse had happened to him, and he’d survived—if not a little bit broken for it.
But his ma and nonna were right: there was no point in dwelling on what-ifs. He could do that all night, but it was time to move forward. He had no choice, really. Nonna needed to sell the house, and that meant he needed to move out—and that brought him back to the one sentence that had been on a loop in his head all through work.
“We would like to invite you to come and stay with us.”
Priest and Julien’s offer. One Robbie had immediately dismissed as too fast and too much, insanity, and declined. But what about any of this was sane? Nothing about their relationship would ever be considered normal, so why was he so scared of this? What was he waiting for? Hadn’t he been the one to tell his ma, to tell Logan, that he was happy? That he wanted this relationship?
Yes, he had been, and it was true. He did want it.
Robbie wanted Julien’s smile directed at him, that dimple of his sneaking out to play, making his face impossibly sexier. Robbie wanted Priest’s ever-seeing eyes and serious expression fixed on him as though trying to learn everything he possibly could, because he was interested. Robbie wanted to eat Julien’s food and tell him how delicious each bite was just to see how much it pleased him. And Robbie wanted to kneel by Priest’s tub and serve him in any damn way that man wanted him to.
He was in deep. Robbie knew that. And even though it was late—early, really—he knew what he wanted to do next. It was a risk, that was for sure, but he knew he’d regret it if he didn’t take it.
* * *
THE SOUND OF Priest’s phone vibrating on the side table had him and Julien stretching beneath the covers in the early hours of the morning. They’d both finally drifted off after dinner, where Priest had filled Julien in on the whole Robbie/Logan situation - annfez uma citaçãoano passado
You talk too much. - annfez uma citaçãoano passado“Then why don’t you shut me up?”
Good fucking idea. I slammed my lips down on top of his, plunging my tongue deep into that smart mouth. Ryder sucked on my tongue and squeezed my ass tight, and I couldn’t stop my groan of pleasure. - annfez uma citaçãoano passadoGooood. I practically purred against him, loving the way it felt to finally get him back in my arms, where he belonged
- annfez uma citaçãoano passadoTake it. Take me. Take whatever you want.
- b4153725320fez uma citaçãoano passadomade taller by a pair of cherry-red heels, came through the door first. She wore a black pencil skirt and a blouse the same color as her heels tucked in at a trim waist, and Julien smiled at Gail Knight.
She walked over to him with a sure stride that came from years in heels that high, and the swing she added to her hips spoke volumes of her self-confidence and knowledge of just how well her skirt showed off her voluptuous curves. Her ebony hair was perfectly straight and sat an inch above her shoulders, and her almond-shaped eyes added an exotic quality to her stunning features. Gail Knight was gorgeous.
“Julien Thornton,” she said, and held her hand out to him.
Julien took it and lowered his mouth to brush a kiss to her knuckles. “Bonjour Miss Knight.”
“Oh, that accent never gets old. It’s just divine,” she said with a little laugh as Julien released her hand.
“Merci. I appreciate you coming out to JULIEN this afternoon.”
“Are you kidding? It’s our pleasure. We haven’t had such a high-profile restaurant opening here in Chicago for years.”
Julien ushered Gail into the lounge area and toward one of the more private booths where he thought they could do the interview, and then he’d take the crew around for photos of the place afterward.
“I’m thrilled to be here. I love Chicago,” Julien said, as he waited for her to take a seat and then sat down opposite her. “Although, I must confess, I’m excited for the warmer temperatures to arrive.”
Gail laughed, and the sound was almost musical as she let her eyes roam around the space. “I understand that. Our winters can be harsh, and for someone used to L.A. temperatures, it must be extra rough.”
“It’s been a learning curve, that’s for sure. But someone very wise told me it’s all about layers, layers, and more layers.” Julien smiled at the thought of Robbie that first night after CRUSH.
Oui, if he could just focus on things like that, things that made him happy, then he just might be able to get through this without hyperventilating.
“This place is exquisite,” Gail said as her eyes finally came back to his. “I understand all of your restaurants are different? So they aren’t themed in any way.”
“The only theme, really, is the European feel to them, but beyond that, non. Each restaurant is distinct and created to fit whatever vibe the building it’s in makes me feel.”
Gail put her purse on the seat and pulled out a slim recorder to place on the table. Julien’s eyes dropped to it, the ease he’d felt a few seconds ago slipping through his fingers at the thought of anything he said, even by accident, being on record in some form forever.
“Is this okay?” Gail said, gesturing to the recorder, and Julien licked his lips and brought his eyes back to hers. He was worrying over nothing. Of course it was okay. He’d done a hundred interviews and never once slipped up. Now would be no different.
“It’s fine,” Julien said, and made himself smile as she slid it to the middle of the table.
“Great. I find it helpful. My memoryfăcut mai înalt de o pereche de tocuri roșu-vișiniu, a intrat primul pe ușă. Purta o fustă creion neagră și o bluză de aceeași culoare cu tocurile înfipte într-o talie tăiată, iar Julien i-a zâmbit lui Gail Knight.
Ea a mers pe la el cu un pas sigur, care a venit de la ani în tocuri atât de mare, și leagăn ea a adăugat la șoldurile ei a vorbit volume de încrederea în sine și cunoștințe de cât de bine fusta ei a arătat off curbele ei voluptoase. Părul ei de abanos era perfect drept și stătea la un centimetru deasupra umerilor, iar ochii ei în formă de migdale adăugau o calitate exotică trăsăturilor ei uimitoare. Gail Knight a fost superbă.
"Julien Thornton", a spus ea, și a avut loc mâna la el.
Julien a luat-o și și-a coborât gura pentru a-i săruta degetele. "Bună Ziua, Domnișoară Knight.”
"Oh, accentul ăsta nu îmbătrânește niciodată. Este doar divin", a spus ea râzând puțin în timp ce Julien și-a eliberat mâna.
"Mulțumesc. Apreciez că ai venit la JULIEN în după-amiaza asta.”
"Glumești? E plăcerea noastră. Nu am mai avut un astfel de restaurant de profil înalt de deschidere aici, în Chicago de ani de zile.”
Julien a condus-o pe Gail în zona de lounge și spre una dintre cele mai private cabine unde a crezut că pot face interviul, și apoi a dus echipa în jur pentru fotografii ale locului după aceea.
"Sunt încântat să fiu aici. Îmi place Chicago", a spus Julien, în timp ce aștepta ca ea să ia loc și apoi s-a așezat vizavi de ea. "Deși, trebuie să mărturisesc, sunt încântat să sosească temperaturile mai calde.”
Gail a râs, iar sunetul era aproape muzical, în timp ce își lăsa ochii să se plimbe prin spațiu. "Înțeleg asta. Iernile noastre pot fi dure, iar pentru cineva obișnuit cu Temperaturile din L. A., trebuie să fie foarte dur.”
"A fost o curbă de învățare, asta e sigur. Dar cineva foarte înțelept mi-a spus că este vorba despre straturi, straturi și mai multe straturi."Julien a zâmbit la gândul lui Robbie în prima noapte după CRUSH.
Oui, dacă s-ar putea concentra doar pe lucruri de genul ăsta, lucruri care l-au făcut fericit, atunci ar putea fi capabil să treacă prin asta fără hiperventilație.
"Acest loc este rafinat", a spus Gail în timp ce ochii ei s-au întors în cele din urmă la ai lui. "Înțeleg că toate restaurantele tale sunt diferite? Deci nu sunt tematice în niciun fel.”
"Singura temă, într-adevăr, este sentimentul European pentru ei, dar dincolo de asta, nu. Fiecare restaurant este distinct și creat pentru a se potrivi cu orice atmosferă în care mă face să mă simt clădirea în care se află.”
Gail și-a pus poșeta pe scaun și a scos un înregistrator subțire pentru a-l așeza pe masă. Ochii lui Julien au căzut spre ea, ușurința pe care o simțise acum câteva secunde alunecându-i printre degete la gândul că orice a spus, chiar și din întâmplare, va fi înregistrat într-o formă pentru totdeauna.
"Este în regulă?"A spus Gail, făcând semn către înregistrator, iar Julien și-a lins buzele și și-a adus ochii înapoi la ai ei. Nu-și făcea griji pentru nimic. Bineînțeles că a fost în regulă. A făcut o sută de interviuri și nu a alunecat niciodată. Acum nu ar fi diferit.
"Este bine", a spus Julien și s-a făcut să zâmbească în timp ce ea l-a alunecat până la mijlocul mesei.
"Grozav. Mi se pare util. Memoria mea - annfez uma citaçãoano passadoSweet God, he had definitely been worth stealing for.
- annfez uma citaçãoano passadoEven his smirk was fucking hot.
- annfez uma citaçãoano passado“You mean the open seat you pushed another guy out of?”
“Oh, that?” Ryder’s dimples deepened. “What can I say? When I see something I want, I have to go after it.” - b4153725320fez uma citaçãoano passadoonly are you a world-class chef who has trained all around the globe with some of the greats, you’re also handsome, smart, and have a delicious accent.”
Julien shifted on his seat a little, feeling more uncomfortable with this line of questioning than he had the ones regarding the restaurant. Whenever reporters started in on his time on Chef Master, and consequently his status as a sex symbol, things usually turned personal. They wanted to know things like: was he single? Or they inevitably brought up—
“Your family. Let’s talk about them for a minute,” Gail said, and Julien felt his stomach drop to his feet. What was she doing? She’d been sent the privacy agreement. She knew the rules. Why was she bringing this up? But even as he sat there mute, Gail just kept right on talking. “They must be very proud of you and all that you’ve accomplished since that first episode, which aired, what is it, nearly eight years ago?”
Julien looked across the table at Gail and swore he could’ve counted each of her eyelashes, he was staring at her so hard, and when he still didn’t answer, she tried a different tactic.
“What about siblings?” Gail asked when it became clear he wasn’t going to answer, or was incapable of answering her—because right now, Julien felt as though his throat was closing in on itself. “Are you an only child? Or do you have brothers and sisters you show off to or compete with? I’m notorious for rubbing my accomplishments in my brother’s face.”
And that was it. That was all Julien could take.
“Stop talking,” he said in a voice that was barely audible, but Gail? She must’ve sensed she’d crossed a line or trodden on a landmine, because she zipped her lips quick. “This interview, it’s over.”
“Excuse me?” Gail said, but Julien was already sliding out of his seat and gripping the edge of the table as he got to his feet.
Once he was upright, he made sure to hold on to the back of the booth because his knees felt as though they were about to give out on him at any moment. “The interview. I’m canceling it. You can leave now.”
Julien knew he was being unbearably rude, but he didn’t give a fuck. He needed her to get out before he totally lost it and passed out at her feet, which he was in real danger of doing.
“But,” she said as she slid out of the booth and stood, “we’re not finished.”
“Oui,” Julien said. “We are. You can leave the way you came. If you have any further questions, you can contact Lise via our email. Goodbye.”
Before Gail could think of anything else to say, Julien turned and walked out of the lounge and down the hall to the kitchen, where he shoved through the stainless-steel doors and braced his hands on the counter in front of him.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
That was not how that was supposed to go today. Bad press was the last thing he needed weeks out from an opening, but as he stood there in the kitchen, Julien felt his legs give out and stumbled back to the wall.
As he slid down it, his ass hit the cold tile, and he raised his knees adoar ești un bucătar de clasă mondială care s-a antrenat pe tot globul cu unii dintre cei mai buni, ești și chipeș, deștept și ai un accent delicios.”
Julien s-a mutat puțin pe scaun, simțindu-se mai inconfortabil cu această linie de întrebări decât cu cele referitoare la restaurant. Ori de câte ori reporterii au început în timpul său Pe Chef Master, și, prin urmare, statutul său ca un simbol sexual, lucrurile devin de obicei personale. Au vrut să știe lucruri de genul: era singur? Sau au crescut inevitabil—
"Familia ta. Să vorbim despre ele un minut", a spus Gail, iar Julien și-a simțit stomacul căzând în picioare. Ce făcea? I s-a trimis acordul de confidențialitate. Știa regulile. De ce a adus vorba de asta? Dar chiar și în timp ce stătea acolo mut, Gail a continuat să vorbească. "Trebuie să fie foarte mândri de tine și de tot ce ai realizat de la acel prim episod, care a fost difuzat, ce este, acum aproape opt ani?”
Julien s-a uitat peste masă la Gail și a jurat că ar fi putut număra fiecare dintre genele ei, se uita la ea atât de tare și, când încă nu a răspuns, ea a încercat o tactică diferită.
"Ce zici de frați?"Gail a întrebat când a devenit clar că nu avea de gând să răspundă, sau era incapabil să—i răspundă pentru că acum, Julien simțea că gâtul lui se închidea în sine. "Ești singurul copil? Sau aveți frați și surori cu care vă arătați sau cu care concurați? Sunt cunoscut pentru frecarea realizările mele în fața fratelui meu.”
Și asta a fost tot. Asta a fost tot ce a putut lua Julien.
"Nu mai vorbi", a spus el cu o voce care abia se auzea, dar Gail? Probabil că a simțit că a trecut o linie sau a călcat pe o mină, pentru că și-a fermoarat buzele repede. "Acest interviu, s-a terminat.”
"Scuză-mă?"A spus Gail, dar Julien aluneca deja de pe scaun și apucă marginea mesei când se ridica în picioare.
Odată ce a fost în poziție verticală, s-a asigurat să se țină de partea din spate a cabinei, deoarece genunchii lui se simțeau ca și cum ar fi pe cale să-l cedeze în orice moment. "Interviul. O anulez. Poți pleca acum.”
Julien știa că este insuportabil de nepoliticos, dar nu-i păsa. Avea nevoie de ea să iasă înainte să-l piardă complet și să leșine la picioarele ei, ceea ce era în pericol real să facă.
"Dar", a spus ea în timp ce a alunecat din cabină și a stat în picioare, "nu am terminat.”
"Oui", a spus Julien. "Suntem. Poți pleca pe unde ai venit. Dacă aveți întrebări suplimentare, puteți contacta Lise prin e-mailul nostru. La revedere.”
Înainte ca Gail să se gândească la altceva de spus, Julien s-a întors și a ieșit din salon și a coborât pe hol spre bucătărie, unde s-a împins prin ușile din oțel inoxidabil și și-a întins mâinile pe tejgheaua din fața lui.
La naiba. La naiba, la naiba, la naiba.
Nu așa trebuia să meargă azi. Presa proastă a fost ultimul lucru de care avea nevoie săptămâni de la o deschidere, dar în timp ce stătea acolo în bucătărie, Julien a simțit că picioarele îi cedează și s-a împiedicat înapoi la perete.
Ca el a alunecat în jos, fundul lui a lovit țiglă rece, și el a ridicat genunchii o