by Emma Roberts
I came around him again, crying out hopelessly into the pillow, and he thrust himself deep inside me one last time and reached his own release soon after. We were wound around each other again, like vines around the trunk of a tree, and it was so tempting to just turn to him right then and there and ask him not to bring this moment to an end. To somehow have him scrap the movie career that I was supposed to be in the process of saving and stay here with me instead.
But rather than say that, I pulled myself away from him and snuggled down into the bed. Damn, I was going to miss these pillows. This place was so comfortable. Or maybe it was just that I felt comfortable here, safe in knowing that I would wake up with him next to me.
"You tired?” he asked, leaning over to plant a kiss on my cheek. I smiled and nodded.
"You’ve exhausted me," I replied playfully. He kissed my bare shoulder and then pulled the covers up over me.
"You get some rest," he told me. "I’ll carry on with the toys."
"Are you sure?” I replied, pulling a face. "I don’t want you to think I’m just lazing about in here, getting nothing done..."
"Well, you are, but you’re doing it on my orders," he said as he brushed a strand of hair back from my face. I smiled at him, feeling that now-familiar twist in my stomach that came every time he did something sweet.
"I don’t think I’m allowed to argue with those," I murmured before closing my eyes and letting myself drift off to a warm, comfortable sleep.
When I awoke a few hours later, it was to a strange light outside – dark, but bright with a seemingly artificial light. When I opened my eyes, I saw snow covering the ground beyond the window. I sat up straight, my eyes wide with shock. That was way worse than it had been a few hours ago, right? How long had I been asleep?
"Oh, Kari, you’re awake."
I heard a voice from the doorway and looked up to find Morgan there waiting for me. He was carrying a small paper bag, which he laid down on the bedside table next to me.
"I brought you some dinner," he explained, and I tore into the packet ravenously. There was some kind of vegetarian stew within, warm and spicy, and it was delicious.
"I have some bad news," he admitted. I looked up at him, my stomach twisting with sadness.
"What’s going on?” I asked.
"The snow’s coming down worse outside, and there’s supposed to be a storm moving in tonight," he explained. "I think we should get out of here tonight, just to be on the safe side."
"Are you serious?” I asked, my stomach dropping.
"I really don’t want to have to cut the weekend short," he replied regretfully, sitting down on the edge of the bed and squeezing my leg underneath the covers. "But I don’t want you to get stuck here, away from your work and your kids and...everything."
I knew what he was trying to say, even if I knew he would never just come out with it. He was trying to tell me that he didn’t want to keep me here away from my real life any longer. He knew that whatever we shared was only here, only now, and that as soon as this was over, it would end. Even though I didn’t want it to. Even though I could hardly imagine a life without him. Which was ridiculous, because I’d hardly known him a few days, but still. Whatever we had, it felt profound, and I wasn’t sure I could hide from it any longer.
I ate and got up and dressed and packed, noticing that he had spent the last few hours that I had been sleeping fixing the toys that I had left out for him. My heart melted when I saw what he had done for me. He was so sweet and so thoughtful. But what version of him was this? Was this just the version that needed me to like him in order to get this career of his moving again?
He helped me take my stuff out to the car, and sure enough, the snow was whipping down heavier than ever around us. He drove the first few miles away from the cabin, and I was glad because I was nervous about the thought of driving on roads like this.
"You alright?" he asked as I turned to watch the cabin retreating away from us. I managed to nod, even though I wasn’t sure I believed it myself.
"Yeah, I’m fine."
We drove for a few more miles, chatting about the Christmas season that was all laid out in front of us. He didn’t have a lot planned – maybe seeing his family, he told me, if he got the inclination up to actually spend time with his mother again – but he wasn’t that bothered about it.
"You know you’re going to have to switch that up if you’re playing Santa for our kids," I reminded him. "You’re going to have to be the embodiment of Christmas cheer."
"I’ll do my best," he assured me, and I reached over to squeeze his hand without thinking. I drew it back at once – that was a little too couple-like for us, for sure. I needed to keep myself in check. I wasn’t here to flirt or to hook up or to fall for anyone. I was here for my job. That was it.
"Hey, pull over and let me drive," I ordered, figuring that the best way to get me to keep my hands to myself was to have them pinned to the wheel instead. He cocked an eyebrow at me.
"You sure?”
"I’m sure," I promised him. "And put on the radio; I like to listen to music while I drive."
He did as he was told, and before I knew it, I was behind the wheel and we were out on the freeway. I was singing along to some terrible pop song that was blasting through the speakers of the car, much to his amusement.
"Man, you really like to sing, huh?” he remarked as the song came to an end and the announcer ran through his usual spiel.
"Yeah, and I know I’m terrible at it, so you don’t need to remind me," I stated.
"You’re a little off-tune, that’s for sure," he teased. I glanced over at him.
"Hey, that’s pretty rich from a dude who released his own single and auto-tuned the hell out of it," I reminded him. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, laughing.
"I didn’t realize you knew about that."
"So I did a little research," I shrugged. "Had to know what I was getting into, right?"
"Who you were getting into," he corrected me. I giggled.
"But yeah, I don’t think you have much of a leg to stand on there, mister," I warned him. "I’ve heard you sing; you’re not much better than me."
"I’d hoped that album had been lost to the eons of time," he remarked. "My agent thought it would be good for me to do it. You know, try to sell the bad-boy image..."
"Yeah, well, a pop song wasn’t the best way to do that," I shot back.
"I can see that now," he protested. "But at the time..."
"At the time, you seriously thought it was a good idea," I finished up. "You know, I’m going to call this radio station and ask them to play it for me. You can sing it for me here, and we can see how it measures up."
"I’m pretty sure I had every copy of that thing destroyed a long time ago," he replied, turning up the radio as the next song came on to cut off any more snarky comments that I might have about his music career. I grinned, deciding to let it drop. I could rip into him about that any time I wanted.
We eventually had to pull over at a gas station to top up the car, and I insisted on paying for the gas – he let me, and I slipped into the shop to pay up. While I was waiting at the desk, I was glancing around, trying to re-acclimate to what it felt to be back in the real world again. And that’s when I saw her.
As soon as I spotted the woman approaching Morgan, I felt my blood run a little colder. The way she was looking at him – with that wide-eyed adoration – instantly stressed me out. I felt as though I had seen that look before, and I knew that I didn’t want any other woman aiming it at Morgan.
She tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned around. While I was stuck inside, observing it all without sound, like I was taking in a silent comedy. She was gesturing wildly, and he was glancing around awkwardly, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to find some way to slide out of the conversation. But before he could, the woman grabbed his face, leaned forward, and planted a kiss on his lips.
My heart felt like it had stopped
beating in my chest. She was hanging onto him, and he was doing his best to extract himself from her grasp as soon as he could, but the damage was done. Even as he pushed her off, there was a ringing in my ears, and I pushed the money across the counter to the attendant and stormed back outside.
The woman looked cowed as she saw me marching back to the car, but I didn’t want to even look at her. I was seething with…was it jealousy? I wasn’t sure. But what I did know was that it hurt, badly. I tossed the keys to Morgan and climbed back into the car, this time on the passenger side, crossing my arms over my chest and starting out the window. I didn’t want to say a word to him; I knew it wasn’t his fault, but I was still stinging. The reality of what it was going to be like to be with him had begun to sink in – and I wasn’t sure it was quite as sweet as I had once believed it was.
15
Morgan
I kept my mouth shut for as long as I could, I really did. But how was I just supposed to sit there and take what she was dishing out? She hadn’t said a word to me since we left the gas station, and that had been almost an hour ago. And I felt as though I was starting to lose my mind a little bit.
It hadn’t been my fault that the woman had done that to me. How could it be? That kind of shit happened to me all of the time, and yeah, it sucked, but there was nothing I could do about it. What I didn’t understand was why Kari couldn’t just wrap her head around that and stop treating it as though I had cheated on her right in front of her face?
"Kari?” I said again, but she didn’t reply. She turned her head and looked out the window pointedly. I rolled my eyes at her and noticed a spot by the side of the road where I could pull over. I decided I was going to put this to bed, once and for all. I wasn’t going to sit here and take the silent treatment from her – not when our weekend had been going so well up until this moment. She had another thing coming if she thought I was going to let this ruin everything that had happened between us. Not a chance in hell.
I pulled over, and she glanced around, surprised, trying to make sense of what was going on.
"Morgan, what are you doing?” she asked – the first words she had spoken to me since we had pulled out of the gas station.
"We need to talk," I told her firmly. "I’m not going to let this ruin our time together."
"Well, I’m sorry, but if you think you can just kiss other women in front of me—"
"In what world was I kissing her?” I cut her off. I didn’t want to hear this. She must have known she was talking some crazy shit right now, and I was pissed that she had allowed this to get under her skin.
"That’s sure what it looked like," she snapped back. "Your mouth was on hers, wasn’t it?”
"Yeah, but it wasn’t like I was just standing there making out with her," I shot back. "She kissed me. I didn’t want anything to do with her. Jesus, Kari, you know how often this kind of thing happens in the business?”
"So what you’re telling me is that I have a lot more of this to look forward to," she replied dryly. I shook my head, rubbing my hands over my face with frustration.
"You know that’s not what I’m saying," I replied, doing my best to keep my cool.
"Then tell me what the hell I’m meant to take from that because all I saw was a woman just walking up to you and kissing you," she snapped back. I had to swallow down my urge to react harshly – I didn’t take criticism well, let alone when it was criticism I knew I hadn’t earned.
"Usually my security would be there to stop that kind of shit from happening in the first place," I explained to her, my voice low and pointed. "But these women, Kari, you have to understand – they have no concept of what’s appropriate."
"So this kind of thing just happens all the time to you?” she demanded. I could hear the incredulity in her voice. Well, she was in for a shock if she thought it was going to be that easy to dismiss.
"Yeah, it does," I replied, my voice raised a bit. I was starting to feel as though I was spinning out of control. I hated this feeling, and I had never figured out a way to get a handle on it. But I knew I had to swallow it down, at least as long as I was around Kari. She couldn’t see this side of me. I could never show it to her. She would freak out, she would be hurt, she would be shocked, she would be—
"These girls, they see me in the movies and they think that I’m their fucking boyfriend or something," I blurted out, cutting off my own soothing train of thought. I just couldn’t control it.
"And they see me out in public, and they assume that I’m there for them," I explained. "They think that I’ve finally found them after all this time, and they kiss me and they touch me and they make it so that I can hardly get away."
She fell silent, which was something. She didn’t have a sharp comeback for that one, at least. That was a start.
"I don’t want this kind of thing, Kari," I continued desperately. "I really don’t. But you have no idea what it’s like for me, being out there and having them see me. They think they know who I am, and nothing I can do is going to convince them otherwise. These girls, they see me in the movies, and they’re certain that whatever character I’m playing is somehow perfect for them in one way or another."
"How many times has this happened before?” she asked, her voice soft, as though she was trying to counteract my rising voice.
"Shit like that?" I gestured back in the direction of the gas station. "More times than I could count."
"And how far has it gone?” she pressed.
"What do you mean?”
"You said these girls think they’re your girlfriends or whatever," she explained. "How far do they take it?”
I closed my eyes for a moment. I had tried to put this one out of my head, but I couldn’t shake it. She had asked, and I didn’t want to lie to her face.
"There was this girl about six years ago," I explained. "She had – she had seen a bunch of my movies, I guess. And she had gotten pretty obsessed with me."
"Obsessed how?”
"Obsessed like apparently she was sending all of this fan mail to my agent at the time, trying to get ahold of me," I went on. "None of it ever filtered through to me, but the letters were coming in a few times a day at the worst point."
"A few times a day?” Kari exclaimed, apparently shocked. "How was she sending that many? How did she afford it?”
"I have no idea, but she did and she could," I continued. "And there was nothing I could do to stop it because I didn’t even have a damn clue it was going on in the first place."
"And what happened to her?” she pushed me for more.
"Her mother eventually managed to get through to my agent at the time and let him know that her daughter was…she was cutting herself, she told him. And said she was suicidal and that she was going to kill herself unless I reached out to her."
"Jesus fucking Christ," she muttered, shaking her head. I didn’t hear her curse very often, and it was somewhat strange hearing those words come out of her mouth.
"I had to go on TV and make a statement to try and get the whole thing off my back," I continued. "I think she got sent to a psychiatric hospital, eventually. I didn’t hear from her again after that – or if I did, my agent has done a good job keeping it from me."
"So that’s how far it goes?” she asked quietly. I nodded.
"That’s how far it can go," I replied. "And I have no guarantee that it won’t go that far again."
"But that girl back at the gas station..." she continued, glancing over her shoulder as though she half-expected the culprit to reveal herself as being stowed away in the back seat this entire time.
"Yeah, that kind of shit happens all the time," I replied. "That’s why I always have security on me when I go out and about. It’s just safer that way."
"So the options are go out with a whole security team or accept that you’re going to be accosted by women whenever we go outside?" she asked. Even though I was mad at her for what she was suggesting, there was a part of me that thrilled at the mention of us
being together beyond just this. That was a start. But the edge to her voice matched with the promise of something more was enough to send my emotions flaring once more, and I found myself speeding out of control again.
"Yeah, well, that’s what you can expect as long as you want to be around me," I fired back, knowing that I sounded arrogant as hell and not caring one bit. When I was feeling attacked, I had a habit of throwing up this smokescreen to pretend that I was actually the one who was purely and totally in control. Sometimes, it even worked.
"You’re an actor, I guess," she sighed heavily. "This is the kind of thing you can expect, right? When you put yourself out there in the public eye, you can’t really be surprised when a few people get over-eager—"
She cut herself off before she was done talking, and I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. She must have sensed the fury coming off of me in waves. I knew that she had no idea what this had triggered in me – there was no way she could; I had never spoken to her about it. In fact, I didn’t make a habit of talking to people about it if I could. But sitting there, hearing her bring up the “well, you’re in the industry, so what did you expect?” argument was enough to send my blood boiling.
"You really think I deserve all of this just because I wanted to act?” I snapped at her. She recoiled into her seat, not used to the harsh tone coming from my mouth. I wanted to stop, but I couldn’t.
"No, Morgan, I didn’t mean that—"
"You think I deserved to get abused, too?” I continued. It was too late to stop now. No matter how bad an idea I was sure this was, the feeling had bubbled up inside me all over again, and I couldn’t keep it down. She didn’t say a word, letting what I’d just said hang in the air between us. Good. I wanted it out there. She might as well know the truth, right? The truth about me, the truth about everything that had fucked me up and left me such a wreck.