“I enjoyed the film.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He chuckles. “Don’t look so surprised, I’ve always said you were a good actress.”
“You could’ve been a brilliant actor,” I remind him, “if you didn’t quit.”
His lips press together in a grim line. “I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”
It all comes crashing back – the real reason that he’s here, the blackmail, and I bite my lip to keep from snapping at him. “I guess not.”
The lights are turned low inside the apartment. “I’m going to take a shower,” Ace says with a yawn. “You need anything before I go?”
“No, I’m fine.”
I wait until I hear the hiss of the shower in his private bathroom, and then I hurtle through to my own room. I turn the taps on full, letting the cold water pour over me. You can do this, I tell myself over and over in my head. You’ve done it before, it’s not a big deal.
The smooth satin slithers over my skin. Pale cream, it stops a good three inches above my knees and is low-cut enough that only a thin strip of lace protects my modesty. The matching scrap of underwear is so small I wonder why it was even included. I leave my hair loose and take off all trace of the heavy make up that caked my skin. Barefoot, I walk slowly back to the kitchen.
Ace has a habit of taking a bottle of water to bed with him every night. It’s only a matter of time before he pads into the kitchen, wearing only a pair of sleeping shorts. He stops dead when he catches sight of me.
“I thought you said you didn’t need anything.”
I hold up a bottle of Evian. “I was thirsty.”
“That’s an interesting choice of nightwear.”
I glance down at my lack of an outfit and shrug as if I barely noticed what I’d thrown on.
Ace doesn’t buy it for a second. “What are you doing, Josie?”
Screw it. I set down the water and cross the room to stand right in front of him. With his height, I know he can see right down my negligee to the scrap of lace beneath. I hear his shocked intake of breath, and my lips curve upward in a small smile. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“It looks like you’re trying to seduce me.” His voice is ragged, and it sends a bolt of heat through my chest.
“Is it working?”
He squirms uncomfortably. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“On why?”
I tug my bottom lip between my teeth. “Maybe I’m tired of waiting for you to make the first move. You can’t pretend you haven’t felt something between us these past few weeks.”
“You should go to bed.”
I inch closer until only a hair’s breadth separates us. The smell of him wafts over me – expensive soap and the musky smell of him beneath. His body is rigid, his jaw tics. He’s using every ounce of restraint not to close the distance between us. I notice a small silver scar near his shoulder, another just above his left hip.
“Don’t you want me, Ace?”
He doesn’t move. I lift my hand and run my nail down his chest, from collarbone to the dark hair below his navel. A small shudder runs through him.
“I don’t like games, Josie.”
“I don’t believe that.” I rise onto my toes and brush my lips across his, featherlight. “You’ve been playing one since you came to see me at that book launch.” Another kiss, but this time I let my tongue follow my lips. “I’m only trying to even the score.”
There’s one part of his body that he cannot control, and it rises up to meet me. The touch of it sends an electric shock through my thighs. Ace is undone. His lips crash onto mine, his fingers knot through my hair. I gasp against his mouth, reaching for him, caressing him through the soft cotton of his pants. Ace groans, his tongue meeting mine in a frantic clash of wills. When he lifts me up, my negligee rises to my waist, and I yelp as my bare arse meets the cold marble of the kitchen counter. He pulls the shoestring straps down my arms, as his mouth trails my jaw, my neck, and then closes over one of my breasts. I curse in agony and ecstasy as he moves away, burrowing my fingers into his hair, and pulling him back to my chest.
His fingers dip lower, and my whole body stiffens in anticipation. When he brushes over my panties, it burns, a deep throb that sends me over the edge. I bite down on his shoulder, my hands fumbling for his pants.
“Josie,” he growls, his breath hot in my ear.
“Yes!” I pant in encouragement, my body arching toward his teasing fingers. Only his arm prevents me from falling as I teeter on the very edge of the counter, my legs falling wide. He peels off my panties with one steady hand and then lifts me toward him. I wrap my legs so tightly around his waist that I don’t know if I’ll ever unravel them again. When he lowers me onto the couch, he stands back to admire my naked body. I close my eyes and reach for him.
“Josie,” he repeats. His voice has changed. I open my eyes to find the wicked grin firmly in place. “What are you doing?” I ask, suddenly terrified.
He gives my body one last lingering look and then leans forward until our noses are almost touching. His eyes loom in my vision.
“This is not a game,” he says. He straightens up, fetches my abandoned water bottle from the kitchen counter, and disappears out the door.
16
I spend the night cringing in despair. Not only did I fail, but Ace’s rejection hurt far more than I expected. It’s like that morning in college all over again. I don’t cry. I refuse. This is my fault, because, as much as I convinced myself that my plan was all about escaping Ace, I’d wanted him. I’d completely let myself go last night. Even now, my body aches for him.
When the first light of dawn starts to filter through my window, I change my flight without telling Ace and catch a cab to the airport.
I don’t go home. I send my bags with Phillip and spend the morning wandering through the park. I eat at the diner, the one place no one will look for me. When Ace calls, I don’t answer. By the time his name shows up for the eighth time, I switch my phone to silent. Eventually, I’ll have to go home and face him. I know I will, but I don’t want to.
He’s standing in the hall when I get home. His hair is disheveled, and a five o’clock shadow darkens his jaw. His expression is unreadable.
“Where have you been?”
“Out.”
“Dammit, Josie!” He plunges his hands through his hair. “You can’t just take off like that.”
“I can do whatever I damned well please.”
“This is about last night,” he begins, but I shove past him, not letting him finish. I’ve just slammed my bedroom door when it bursts open. “Don’t walk away from me.”
“Get out.”
“We need to talk about this.”
“Get out!”
“No!”
I snatch up the lamp beside my bed and hurl it at him. He ducks easily, and it smashes into the wall behind him.
“Get the fuck out of my room!”
“You’re behaving like a child!”
A book follows the lamp.
“That’s enough!” Ace roars. He crosses the distance between us and seizes my hand before I can find my next weapon.
“Let me go!”
“Not until you’ve calmed down!” His face is so close to mine that I can make out flecks of green in the blue. My legs go out beneath me as my face crumples. Ace catches me as I fall. Heaving sobs wrack my body as I collapse against him, releasing all the pain and rejection I’ve been feeling since last night.
“Oh Jesus, Josie, I’m sorry.” His arms tighten around me.
“You’re not sorry,” I cry, beating my hand against his chest. “You don’t care, stop acting like you do!”
His voice is pained as he whispers against my hair. “But I do care.”
“Stop it!” I plead. “Please stop it. I can’t do this anymore.”
“Why are you so upset?” His eyes are searching my face. “It was only a game.”
I bite back another sob and shake my head.
“Josie.” Firmer now. “It was only a game?” He’s watching me closely. Something flashes in his eyes – triumph?
“It wasn’t a game?” He’s smiling now, and he’s so beautiful it breaks my heart. “Josie, please, tell me. It wasn’t a game?”
I squeeze my eyes together and shake my head again. Tenderly, he sets me down on the edge of my bed.
“Look at me.”
I open my eyes.
“You’re upset because I rejected you?” He sounds thrilled, and it drives home just how cruel he is.
“Please leave me alone,” I whimper.
“No. You need to understand.”
“Understand what, Ace?” I’m so tired, so very tired.
“I don’t want to be a game to you. I thought… I never suspected…” he stops. Takes a deep breath. “Josie, I wanted you last night more than I’ve ever wanted any woman in my life. Except maybe you, six years ago.” He wipes the tears from my eyes.
“But you left? You left me… naked,” I add, and fresh tears spring to my eyes at the memory. “On the couch.”
His teeth flash. “That was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. Even after four cold showers, I’m pretty sure I’ve sustained a permanent injury.”
I try not to smile and fail spectacularly. “You better not be screwing with me.”
His face is the sun, blazing and triumphant. “Josie. There’s nothing I’d rather be doing than screwing you.”
This time, when he kisses me, there is none of the urgent frenzy of before. Instead, his kiss is tentative. I can feel him holding his breath, waiting for my silent approval. I lift my tear-stained face, allowing him easier access to my mouth, and he smiles against my lips. I part my own and slip my tongue into his mouth. Slowly, I explore every warm inch of it and Ace returns the favor. I close my eyes with a soft sigh, and he kisses my eyelids, tasting my tears.
His hands stroke my neck, my back, my thighs, sending tiny electric sparks along my skin. When his hands grip my shoulders and press me gently down, I lie back. He pulls off his shirt, giving me only a brief look at his muscular torso before his body covers mine. Every inch of him touches me. I feel light-headed, drugged, wrapped tightly in his arms.
We kiss, on and on, until my lips are swollen and sensitive. Until I think I might faint with desire.
Ace leans back, taking his full weight on his elbows, and I splay my hands on his chest. I trace the silvery scar with one finger.
“What happened?” I ask, my voice barely recognizable. He silences me with another lingering kiss. I already know every inch of his mouth, and I duck my head, letting my lips trace the strong line of his jaw. I breathe into his ear, and he stiffens. My hands move lower. This time, he lets me.
I wake up draped across Ace’s bare chest. He’s sleeping, the rise and fall of his chest marking every slow and steady breath. I trace the circular scar, feeling the twisted tissue, and then lift my head to check the matching scar near his hip. There’s a long, thin scar in the groove of his collar bone, and another just left of his navel. I move my hand to touch it, but Ace’s hand closes over mine. I look up into a pair of lazy blue eyes.
“What happened to you, Ace?” I ask.
“It’s a long story.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, but it’s already too late. He’s moved, twisting sideways to scoop me against him, his mouth meeting mine and I’m powerless to resist him.
When I finally drift back to earth, I bring it up again.
“Where did you get these scars?”
Ace sighs, realizing I am not going to drop it.
“I can’t tell you.”
I sit straight up in bed.
“What?” Somewhere in my addled brain, it registers that I thought this changed everything. That somehow after being intimate, all the walls would come down. Apparently, I was wrong.
Sensing that I’m about to bolt, Ace slides his arm around my waist, pinning me against him.
“Josie, I need you to trust me.”
“How can I trust you if you won’t be honest with me? What is going on? I know you’re not here for fame, you’ve shown absolutely no interest in anything but me since you arrived.”
“Can’t you just believe that I want to be here and let it rest?”
“I need answers.”
“I know. I just can’t give them to you. Not yet, anyway.”
“When, then?”
“I can’t say. Soon.”
I shrug out of his arms and scoot to the edge of the bed, as far as I can possibly get from him. “That’s not good enough.”
“Josie, please.”
“I need something.” I send up a silent prayer that he listens, because it’s the truth. If Ace doesn’t stop giving me secrets and lies, I have no choice but to end this. No matter how badly it crucifies me to do it.
“I can’t,” he says.
17
“Oh my God, Josie, what have you done?” CeeCee shrieks down the receiver.
“I told the truth.”
“You can’t do this! It doesn’t work this way – you don’t just go rogue on your publicist!”
I pick up the copy of The Daily which was delivered this morning. JOJO LOSES IT, the headline reads. The article is carefully worded, I know because I drafted it myself and sent it through to the newsroom yesterday. The accompanying photograph is one taken of Ace and I at the premiere. I’m smiling at the camera, and he’s smiling down at me.
“I think I already have,” I say, slamming the paper face down on my desk.
“Why? Why break this, of all stories?”
“It’s the truth. I didn’t want there to be any confusion.”
“Christ Jojo, you lost your virginity. It’s not something the entire world needs to know.”
If only she were right. Sadly, this is the only way to get Ace out of my life. I haven’t spoken to him since we made love two days ago. I’d left for work before dawn and stayed late on set both nights. He’d been asleep by the time I came home.
Tonight, I’d come home early, prepared to make my last stand, but he’d been out when I arrived. I pass the hours watching re-runs of old Hollywood movies and scratching Noodle’s belly. When the front door slams with unnecessary force, I smile to myself.
“What the fuck have you done?” Ace is shaking with rage.
I stretch, deposit Noodle on the couch beside me and get to my feet. “Taking my life back. I’ve taken the liberty of packing your things,” I add, gesturing at the Louis Vuitton luggage case beside the couch. “You can keep the bag, I have another.”
“Dammit, Josie, this is serious.”
“As am I. I want you out of my house. Right now, or I’ll call the cops.”
“You’re bluffing.”
I reach for my phone. Every muscle in my face is perfectly relaxed, displaying not a flicker of emotion.
“Don’t do this.”
“It’s done, Ace. Get out.”
“You have no idea what’s going on. There’s a bigger picture here, Josie.”
“If I have no idea what’s going on, it’s no fault of mine,” I reply pointedly. “And seeing that this,” I lift the paper and wave it in his face, “leaves you with no bargaining chip, there’s really nothing left to say.”
“I won’t leave you.”
“Fine,” I sigh. “We’ll do this the hard way.” I lift my phone and dial 911. I’ve barely hit the call button when Ace snatches my phone from my hand.
“Fine. I’ll go, but this isn’t over. I’ll be back.”
“No, Ace. You won’t.”
He leaves the bag. Granted, it only has a few of his clothes and a small toiletry bag, but still, I can’t bear to have it in the apartment. I drag it downstairs and leave it beside Frank’s station. When Fenn arrives bright and early the following morning, I ask her to make sure it’s donated to charity.
I don’t call Alex. For so long, all I could
think of was getting back together with him, but now that I’m free to, I can’t bring myself to do it. My only regret in running the article is the pain it must have caused him. A week passes, and I haven’t heard a word from Ace. I throw myself into work. Filming will come to an end in a few days, and then we reconvene to shoot in Chicago in a few weeks. When I’m not at work, I spend hours at the Baby Grand. I haven’t played like this in years, all raw emotion and vulnerability. Without any witnesses, I soak the ivory keys in tears.
The press is relentless. Noticing that Ace has been conspicuously absent, they are baying for blood. Cruel captions such as ONE NIGHT STAND? and WHAT A WASTE! dominate the headlines, but I pay them no heed. This will all blow over.
Avoiding the world’s press, however, is far easier than avoiding my own family. Teddy arrives without warning ten days after I kicked Ace out. I find her waiting outside my door after the last day of filming.
“Sorry it took so long,” she says. “I had to find a locum to fill in at the practice.”
“Did mom and dad send you?” I ask.
She swipes a stray blonde tendril out of her eyes. “You bet your ass they did. And you should thank your lucky stars it’s only me. It took me two whole days to convince dad not to get on a plane and come out here.”
“I tried to call him to explain, but he wouldn’t take my call.”
“He’s hopping mad.” Teddy gives me a sympathetic look. “I’m assuming you have a good reason for all this crazy behavior?”
“You have no idea.”
She scratches in her overnight bag and pulls out a bottle of wine. “Why don’t you start at the beginning.”
Teddy is my sister, and she loves me unconditionally. She also has the added benefit of having known me throughout my college life, and she clearly remembers the thumping crush I had on Ace.
“He just doesn’t strike me as someone to do something like this,” she says.
“I know. That’s what makes it so weird.”
“And he didn’t offer any explanation. Or even a clue as to why he’s being like this?”
I shake my head. “If he had, I wouldn’t have kicked him out. Is dad really furious?”
Awkward in Print (Awkward #1) Page 8