I felt icky.

Like, really sick.

Like I did something bad.

Which I did.

I kissed Duke, the celebrity I was assisting. It was like kissing my boss, which is essentially what I did.

And that was sick. And not in a good way.

God, I made the biggest mistake of my entire life.

But it felt so damn right.

It was so wrong, but so perfect. The perfect mistake. That's what it was.

So blissfully amazing and yet so professionally wrong.

Problem was, I shouldn't have been thinking that. I also shouldn't have been thinking about it at all. After all, it was a mistake, wasn't it? So why couldn't I get the feel of his lips on mine out of my mind? And why did I blush when I thought of how close our bodies had gotten? And why did my heart skip when I remembered the warmth of our skin flaring up under our shirts?

This was wrong. This was extremely and utterly wrong.

I had a boyfriend, for crying out loud. Given, this boyfriend was really only good for having sex with. We didn't really have substantial, memorable conversations. However, I bet I could recall almost every single one of my conversations with Duke, even though the majority of them were quite meaningless.

This was extremely frustrating. And what made it worse was that I couldn't even talk to him about it. We both had grown very awkward around each other. The past week, we tried our best to avoid each other. I always busied myself doing tasks for Duke that required me to stay away from him. He seemed to be trying his best to not call for me things he needed done. We kept our gazes lowered and our mouths shut. So I had no idea how he was feeling about all of this.

Did he like it? What did he think? Did he think it was all a mistake like I did? Or did he think it meant something more? I had so many questions, but I wasn't willing to ask them at all. I was just so damn confused. Crazy hormones...

"Hey," I heard. I blinked, coming out of my reverie of thoughts. I looked up to see Denise standing with her hands on her hips.

"Hey yourself," I replied, sitting up.

"You're home early," she pointed out.

"They let me go home because they didn't have anything for me to do," I answered.

"By 'they' you mean Duke, right?" she asked. I flinched at the sound of his name. She noted this and raised an eyebrow. "You've actually been home early every day this week," she brought up, sitting next to me. I looked down at my hands to avoid her gaze. "Is something wrong?" she asked finally.

"No! Nothing! Nothing at all! Why would anything be wrong?" I replied, my voice getting a bit high pitched. I began twirling a strand of my hair with my fingers, a nervous habit I could never get rid of.

"I've known you for like 17 years now. I can tell when you're lying," she said.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not lying," I said, twirling my hair faster. She grabbed my hand, forcing me to look at her.

"What happened? You didn't get fired, did you?" she asked. I shook my head. "Then what?" she urged.

"IkissedDuke!" I blurted out. As soon as the words came out, I buried my face in my hands, rocking back and forth. The truth was out now and I was going to have to start dealing with it.

"You did what?!" she shouted.

"Keep your voice down!" I hissed, glaring at her.

"I can't believe you kissed him," she said, her voice low.

"Well, I didn't kiss him. He kissed me," I corrected weakly.

"Who cares who kissed who? You responded?" she asked. I nodded shamefully. She let out a sigh of frustration. "Val! Why?!" she cried.

"Because it felt so good! How was I supposed to know he'd be such an amazing kisser?!" I exclaimed.

"Because he's a star! He's a celebrity and has kissed numerous girls! He's a pro!" she replied.

I frowned. She was making it sound like the kiss was meaningless. I didn't think so. I wouldn't have responded the way I did if it was just another kiss. This kiss set me off. It was a million times better than all the sex and kisses I shared with Brandon.

"So you're saying that I'm just another girl he kissed?" I asked her.

"You are not falling for him," she said.

"Of course not! I'm just saying, it wasn't just a kiss," I told her.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"I kissed Zac in Italy. Zac Efron," I told her. Her eyes bulged.

"Who haven't you kissed in Hollywood?!" she exclaimed. I rolled my eyes. Now she was being melodramatic.

"The point is, when I kissed him, I didn't feel anything. I didn't have butterflies or explosions or that electric feeling. But I get those feelings when I kiss Brandon. And I had them when I kissed Duke," I explained.

"So you're saying it meant something more?" she asked.

"I'm saying it wasn't just an ordinary kiss," I told her. "But what it was, and there's no denying this, was that it was a mistake," I added.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because he's the equivalent to a boss to me! I work for him!" I replied.

"This just got really complicated," she said, furrowing her brows. I groaned, hitting my face with a pillow.

"You're telling me! I'm the one going through it!" I said.

"Did you tell Brandon?" she asked. I shook my head.

"What the hell am I supposed to tell him? 'Hey babe. I kissed Duke while working for him last week. No big deal.' Do you hear how idiotic that sounds?!" I exclaimed.

"You have to tell him, though!" she said.

"I don't have to tell him anything because it was a mistake. It will never happen again," I said.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked in a quiet voice. It was as if she was reading my thoughts as they wandered back to the feel of his lips on mine. I really did want to kiss him again. The feeling was just so amazing. But it was also wrong. Very, very wrong.

"How does he feel about all of this?" she asked.

"I have no idea. We haven't talked much since it happened," I answered.

"Uh-oh," she mumbled.

"What?" I asked, looking at her in alarm.

"This may be more complicated than you think," she told me.

"What?" I repeated, thoroughly confused.

"If he thought it was a mistake, too, then he would've just passed it off. The fact that he hasn't talked to you like normal means that there's something else going on here," she explained.

"He is not falling for me," I said bluntly.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"You're the one making this more complicated than it needs to be. He's just awkward about it because I am. That's all there is to it," I told her.

"Why are you awkward about it?" she questioned, trying to make a point.

"Because he's my boss! Wouldn't you be awkward around your boss if you kissed them?" I answered.

"Well, my boss is a woman, so yes, that would be extremely awkward," she started. I blinked and then burst into laughter. Sometimes Denise was so blunt about things. "But if my boss was a man and I kissed him, I wouldn't be awkward if it was just a mistake. Mistakes happen and you get over them. The fact that you feel awkward about all of this just shows that it wasn't just a mistake," she explained to me.

"You are reading too into this. It meant nothing. And to prove it to you, I'm going to act normal around him from now on," I said. She shrugged.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," she muttered. I glared at her. "Just out of curiosity, how did Duke's kiss compare with Brandon's? You said that you get butterflies and that electric feeling when you kissed both of them," she asked. I sat back against the couch, considering the question. How were they different?

"I guess, when I kiss Brandon, I get really hot really fast and all I want to do is rip his clothes off," I told her. The corners of her lips twitched up in amusement. "But when Duke kissed me, I just wanted to kiss him. It was just as intense and passionate, but it wasn't lustful," I said.

"Hmmm..." she mumbled to herself.

"What?" I asked. She shrugged, smiling slyly at me, standing on her feet.

"Ohh, nothing," she sang. Then she walked away, still smiling to herself. I glared after her. Sometimes she just pissed me off.

                                                      ~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, ready to go?" I asked Duke when I got to his apartment.

"Actually, I cancelled the appointment," Duke told me. I frowned.

"You could have told me..." I muttered.

We were supposed to go meet his new personal trainer. Duke had gotten signed on to do a new movie in which he played a soldier in the army. He had to get a little more buff for the role and so he needed to go train with a new fitness instructor for a few months.

"Why'd you cancel?" I asked. He looked away from me, down at his feet. He fiddled his thumbs together, as if nervous.

"I think we need to talk about what happened," he mumbled. I furrowed my brows at him, my heart rate speeding up.

"There's not really anything to talk about--" I murmured.

"I want to show you something," he said, looking up suddenly, his blue eyes flashing with intensity.

"Uhhh..." I stuttered.

"Let's go. I'll drive," he said, grabbing a set of keys off a table next to the door. Without another word, he brushed past me, enveloping me in his musty scent. He locked the door and then began walking towards the elevators, pushing the button to go down. I blinked at him, feeling very confused.

"Coming?" he asked when the doors opened.

I snapped out of my daze and walked slowly into the elevator. The doors closed and for some reason, I had a flash of a scene from a commercial where a girl and boy start making out maniacally behind the closed doors of an elevator. I mentally slapped myself for the ridiculous thought.

He drove in silence. I didn't make any effort to make conversation. I was confused as to where he was randomly taking me. I had thought we would sit down in his apartment and talk about what had happened. Now he was taking me someplace. It was funny how quickly things changed.

He pulled up into a small, privated and gated neighborhood. He swiped a card to open the gates and drove up a large circular driveway to a gigantic Italian-stucco mansion. There was a Greek fountain in the center lawn and two very large palm trees on either side of the house. It was gorgeous.

"What is this place?" I breathed in awe.

"My childhood," he answered, opening his door and getting out. I stepped out, too, and gaped at him.

"You grew up here?" I asked, completely shocked. He looked at me, as if confused at my reaction.

"Why do you sound so shocked?" he asked.

"Ummm do you not see the gigantic mansion?!" I exclaimed, pointing at the house. He looked up at it and shrugged.

"It's my parents' house," he said, as if this were an answer to my incredulousness. I blinked at him, still confused. He sighed, coming to a realization. "You really need to read that binder Patrice gave you," he said.

"I'm not folllowing..." I trailed off.

"My parents were Katrina and Paul Hamilton," he said. My mouth formed a small 'O'.

"You're the son of the Hamiltons?" I asked. He nodded, holding his hands out slightly. "Oh. My. God," I muttered to myself.

The Hamiltons were the biggest Hollywood stars of the nineties. They were in all the great movies of the time. They were legends. They were so famous that even I knew who they were. But I had no idea they had a child. And let alone that that child was Duke.

"But why is your last name different?" I asked, following him to the entrance of the house. He pulled out a swipe key and ran it through the high-tech security lock.

"Because they changed it," he replied, simply.

"Why?" I asked. He shrugged.

"It's what you do in Hollywood. My real name is Duke Hamilton," he said, opening the door. We stepped inside and my jaw dropped. It was so big.

The foyer was made entirely of marble, with a geometric design at the center. Over our heads was a very large crystal chandelier that twinkled in the sunlight that poured in from the tall windows above the door. There was a double-staircase with plush, creme-coloured carpeting and mahogany wood-work.

"Now I feel like I'm hanging out with a Prince or something," I whispered. He chuckled.

"Come on. I'll show you around," he said, tossing his keys onto a decorated table that had a vase with an elegant flower arrangement in it. He showed me around the house, showing me the kitchen, the mini-kitchen, the living room, the family room, the drawing room, the library, the study/office, the lounge, the sun room, the outside garden, the basement, the game room, the bar, the bedrooms. I was exhausted when we got to the third level where all the bedrooms were.

"Oh my goodness. Can we take a break?" I asked after he showed me his room.

"One more place, then we can stop," he answered, walking out of his room. I grudgingly followed him out to the hallway. We went up another level (there was a fourth floor?!) to an open space that was full of different kinds of models. There were model planes, cars, tanks. There were models of wheels, different sketches of planes, scratches of mathematics.

"Whoa, what is this place?" I asked.

There was a glass case against the center back wall. I went up to it. Inside of it were pictures and trophies. I read the caption of one picture: Engineering Club 1993. The picture was grainy. There were eight boys in the picture. Six of them were dressed with plaid-print pants that went so high up they showed their ankles. The other two were dressed in t-shirts and jeans. One of them had a boyish handsomeness about him, with blue eyes that could be seen even from the distance of the picture.

"Duke, is that you?" I asked, pointing at the boy in the picture. I was acutely aware of the heat coming from Duke's body as he came up behind me.

"Yep," he replied, leaning down slightly to look at it.

"You were in the engineering club?" I asked him, turning to face him.

He was standing very close to me, a soft expression on his face. Normally, this proximity wouldn't have bothered me. But since the events of the past week, I immediately blushed.

"Why do you sound so surprised?" he asked.

I shrugged, moving away from him to look at some of the model airplanes, but mostly to create some distance between us. I touched the cold metal of one of the planes that was hanging from the ceiling by some strings. I felt like I was in some sort of science museum.

"I just never took you for the nerdy, science guy," I replied, examining a replica mini Ford model T car.

"I was really into all this stuff when I was in high school and even in my first year of college. I was an engineer major with a minor in physics," he told me. I turned to him, my eyebrows raised.

"Seriously?" I asked. He leaned against the hood of a beat down car that was in the corner of the room.

"These were my many childhood projects," he said, waving his hand across the room.

"My God! You were a science nerd!" I exclaimed, my eyes wide, a slight smile on my face.

"Guilty as charged," he admitted.

"What made you become an actor?" I asked, leaning against the hood next to him. I could feel his body heat emanating from him.

"My parents were ashamed that their son wanted to be an aeronautical engineer instead of an actor to make their legacy live on. So they guilt-tripped me into dropping out of college and becoming an actor," he explained.

He looked out the small window. A few rays of sunlight poured through, casting a light on one of the planes.

"They were always forcing me to try out for school plays and little commercials here and there. I was always so annoyed by it, even though it was really easy for me. It was never fun, though. I never enjoyed it. The only thing that was fun for me was sitting in a garage with a bunch of tools, working out the dynamics of a plane and then building a model of it. That's what I called spending my free-time wisely," he said, a small smile on his face as he thought of his memories. I gazed at his face silently.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked after a few moments. He glanced down at me.

"You're the only one that knows about this besides my parents," he told me. I shook my head, still not understanding.

"I still don't know why you're telling me all of this," I said.

"Because when I'm around you, I feel like I can be myself. I don't need to hide or act like I'm some big hot-shot celebrity, even though that's who I am. But at the same time, it's not. I'm not that hot guy that's gotten all those awards. I'm the nerdy science geek that likes playing with model airplane kits," he explained. "I feel real when I'm with you. And I guess I didn't realize that until I kissed you last week," he finished.

I could feel my heart racing. My cheeks were already flush with color. I didn't know whether to feel extremely proud and happy that he had developed such an intense level of trust in me or if I should feel guilty for leading him on. Maybe I felt relaxed when I was around him, but I most certainly wasn't myself.

The real me was a girl that was both determined and goal-oriented. I was independent and strong and I didn't need anyone to tell me what to do. I was a number-freak and a management-junkie. I was always relaxed when I was with Duke and that wasn't who I was.

Or was it? Was my tough, independent girl attitude all an act? Was I really a fun-loving girl that liked to have long, meaningless conversations and arguments? Or was I both? Could I be both?

"Duke I--" I started, but stopped.

He reached down, brushing my hair gently out of my face and tucking it behind my ears. His fingers gently caressed my cheeks, tracing them along my jawline and down to my neck. His gentle touch sent shivers of comfort through me. Then he leaned down slightly, his lips connecting perfectly with mine.

I felt the same intensity as before well up inside of me as I wrapped my arms around his neck and he pulled me closed to him by my waist. I felt my every curve fit perfectly against his body. Our skin temperature rose and I felt like I was on fire.

But then I pulled away. I took a few steps away from him and could see the confusion and longing on his face.

"I can't, Duke. I'm sorry," I whispered. I felt my heart break a little as I saw the hurt and rejection on his face. His blue eyes darkened in sadness. "It was a mistake. It was all a mistake," I croaked, inching my way backwards. When I felt the staircase, I shook my head. "I'm so sorry," I whispered.

Then I turned around and raced down the stairs to the main level. I walked out the doors and started heading down the driveway. I had no idea how I'd get back home, but all I knew was that I needed to get away from here and I needed to get away fast. And just like in the movies when a depressing scene occurs, the sky broke with a clap of thunder and it began raining hard.

The raindrops mixed in with my tears, hiding them so that the world couldn't see my weakness.

______________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Oops. Usually it's the boy that breaks the girl's heart. This time it's the other way around. I decided to change it up a little. You guys wanted a strong female character. Well there she is. She's strong and doesn't see what's right for her.

Leave me a comment with your thoughts!

And don't forget to VOTE!!!

I'm not sure when I'll update next. This next week is going to EXTREMELY busy for me. And I have exams coming up soon. So once those are over, I'll probably update then. Right now, I need to study. If I find a break, I'll post a new chapter. If not, I'm sorry.

XOXO