by Kahlen Aymes
I pulled her into my embrace again and kissed her temple, smiling against her skin. I couldn’t tell if the sound that erupted from her chest was a sob or a laugh. I rubbed up and down her arms and her back, bending to kiss the curve of her shoulder.
“The only decision I have to make is whether I can put up with your silly worries. Okay?"
"Okay," she said softly and sniffled as she wiped the tears from her face. "Me too, I’ll try."
"Well, then, it looks like we have absolutely nothing resolved and we’re back at square one. I guess I'll take it because it means more time with you. Now get your sweet ass ready, Miss Halloway.” I brushed my fingers under her chin and she nodded, her eyes pulling me in, in ways I couldn't even reconcile. She was so beautiful I could hardly breathe. “Get on set and get it in the can, so we can have an evening together.”
"Okay."
We broke apart when there was a knock on the door and she looked up at me apologetically, her hand reaching out to touch my stomach. She backed away and called out. “Come in.”
I tried to blend into the background and sat on the sofa in Brook’s trailer as the costume assistant helped her dress and the hair and makeup people worked on her. We tried not to talk about anything personal while they were around; trying to keep the conversation about work, acting as if my visiting her on set was completely ordinary. The curious glances of the crew signaled their doubts that this was only a friendly visit, but I was beyond caring what anyone else thought. Curiosity and speculation were normal, but I still slipped each of them a hundred dollar bill with a few words; “No pictures. This is not a big deal. I’m visiting a friend.”
When everyone left, I grabbed her arm and shut the door so I could plant a brief kiss on her lips before she preceded me out.
“Give me a hug, friend,” I murmured sardonically, but loud enough for the retreating crew could hear.
Her expression twisted in amusement, but when her feet hit the ground my arms enfolded her in a big bear hug and hers slid up around my neck. When I felt her fingers in the hair at the back of my neck, it was all I could do not to crush her mouth beneath mine. I wouldn't do that until she asked me to, until she'd also made the choice to be open about us. The hug was a big enough risk.
My hand went to the back of her head and wound around the golden silk as I pulled her tighter into my embrace. "It's going to be okay, Brook. Whatever happens, I'll always be here for you.” I whispered into her hair. “When I’m done in New York, I’m gonna buy us a house in L.A. Even if it isn’t official, I want you to move in with me, okay?”
She nodded and hugged me tighter. “The press will find out.”
"I don’t care. I hope they do. I’m going to speak to Denise and have her plan a few things to leak to give a few obvious hints.”
I waited for Brook to protest but she didn’t. I pressed my lips to the top of her silky head.
“Tell Patrick everything is fine and call me when you're done, yeah?"
She smiled up at me as she started to pull out of my arms.
I should have shut my mouth right there, but there was part of me that wanted a leak to the press that I was in L.A. and with Brook on her set. I was tired of sneaking around, but now wasn’t the time to be defiant. "I think we need to lose the crowd tonight. Let's just watch a movie and order room service."
Her smile widened and she nodded. As I watched her disappear through the door to her sound stage, she carried my heart in her hands. Though we only had a few hours together, I'd take every second I could get.
I walked back toward the SUV where Jeanne was waiting; yammering on her cell phone to someone. When she hung up, her eyebrow shot up sharply. "Everything good? Think you could have worked a little harder to let the cat out of the bag?"
My lips lifted in the start of a small smile. "Take it easy, Jeanne. Brook and I are still fighting over that one. She’s winning.”
"She’ll get a few films under her belt and will then be in a better position to do what she wants.”
“Really? I’ve made a dozen films and they still have my balls.”
“Only because of Brook, Cade. The suits know you’re protective and they use it to their advantage.”
"They don’t pay us enough to take this bullshit.”
“Maybe not on one film, but they keep signing you. They hired her for a second gig and it will help secure her future with other studios. Remember that.”
Her comment annoyed me. The last thing I cared about was cash, but I couldn’t argue with Jeanne’s logic. “Yeah, yeah. Something’s gotta give.”
I’d figure it out later, but right now I was already looking forward to room service and a movie with my girl.
I RUSHED OFF SET and threw my backpack into the back of the beat up Honda Civic I was driving to stay incognito; frantic to get on the road... frantic to get in the arms of the man I was dying for. This fucking summer had dragged on and on and it still wasn't over. After this weekend, we still had three more weeks until we hit the set of A Love Like This when we could finally be together again.
I sucked in my breath, filling my lungs to the point of pain as I shoved the key in the ignition and turned the car on. As I plugged in the iPod and cranked up the tunes, all of the songs that Cade and I had compiled on our CadeNBrook playlist over the summer would surround me for my three-hour drive down to San Diego. So many beautiful songs, most of them about longing and missing each other, the lyrics full of meaning to both of us that had helped ease the ache of the separation. Helped but not completely obliterated it.
Fuck. I glanced at the clock on the dash. It was 10:30 PM, which meant I wouldn't be down there until at least 1:30 in the morning. I hadn't seen Cade since that weekend he'd come to Los Angeles after he had been mobbed by fans. That was almost nine weeks ago and I was dying to get my hands and mouth on him. My body was literally shaking in anticipation. Our managers hadn’t exactly pulled through on setting up time together.
My phone buzzed and I pulled it out of my pocket and opened the message.
I'm sorry about our row. Be careful while you're driving. I can't have you getting in an accident since I'm planning on making it all up to you in a few short hours.
Yes, I was sorry about our fight, too. The distance, the time apart, the paps hounding both of us, and the ridiculous tabloid headlines had all done their best to rip us apart and hang rumors over us at the same time. I sighed and shook my head in disgust. We were both impossibly sensitive and both had a tendency to overreact at times. Cade could be stubborn as hell, and God knew, I had a few volatile moments where I'd snapped his head off. The past months apart had been so emotionally charged and the pain of the long separation had really fucked us both up.
That was over now. I smiled and threw the phone on the passenger seat, holding off on my response.
Short? Hardly. Just for that we'll see how short the hours are, baby, I thought with a smirk, as I got on the interstate and merged into traffic.
It was dark and as I left the bright lights of Los Angeles behind me with the random towns and steady stream of headlights coming at me, I sat back in my seat and let the memories roll over me.
It was bizarre that the only place I could find any peace was racing down the highway, alone in my car. Cade was a prisoner in his hotel room in San Diego, waiting for me to be with him. I was already a prisoner where he was concerned, heart and soul, but that was the easy part. He'd been there most of the day because he had an interview for the October or November issue of Vanity Fair, and knowing Cade, he was pacing the room like a caged animal in anticipation of my arrival.
There were many times over the course of the past few months when I'd questioned if we should stay together because of everything we had to go through. The paparazzi’s constant stalking and taunting, the fans crazed and frantic to the point of endangering Cade's life; had at times, made me pull away from him. It was a pathetic attempt to give him ease from the torment and to find some small shred of peace myself, b
ut it backfired horribly, only making us both miserable.
I shuddered as I remember kissing his bruised side and feeling him wince in pain as we made love that one weekend he'd come out to be with me. We spent the whole time locked behind the closed doors of his hotel room, in bed, holding each other and making love, barely able to let go of one another. We even showered together so we wouldn't have to be apart, but it was a delicious problem to have. I smiled and my heart raced at the memory. All he wanted to do was touch me, but I couldn't stop thinking about his injury and all of those mobs of women chasing him down like a dog. It was scary and worry hung over us both like a hurricane that never dissipated.
The paparazzi had been ruthless in the past months. The horrible things they'd printed and the questions that they'd asked me had been beyond invasive; cruel, even. I couldn’t even get a latte without being bombarded.
It bothered Cade to see how they hounded me in the same way that it had bothered me to watch the fans stalking him. Both of us more worried about the other, it had become a unhealthy and painful habit to watch what was going on with each other online when we couldn't talk to each other.
The separation made me doubt just about everything and made him anxious and upset whenever I would withdraw. It was sort of a vicious circle of anger and pain. We had lots of tearful conversations where I’d question our relationship and what was in our best interests, leaving him hurt and yelling at me over the phone or Skype.
“Just fucking make a decision, Brook! This is killing me for Christ's Sake! Either you want to be with me or you don't. I can't bloody breathe it hurts so bad! Just please make a decision!”
I could still hear the anguish in his voice as he’d said those words. If I were honest with myself, the publicity with Davina still hurt even after our weekend when he completely reassured me. Though I knew it wasn't real, I still struggled and pulled away from him. I suppose it was a natural reaction, a way of self-defense, considering how many women wanted him.
Fuck, I couldn't help it. I felt like I was suffocating, helpless while Davina Duchman’s intentions were clear. I might as well have been on the other side of the world, and although I’d come to love my new movie, I felt like it was a big weight around my neck. During the times when all I wanted was to get to Cade and I couldn't, I felt trapped and frustrated.
I almost didn't go down to Comic-Con because I'd heard that Davina was going to be there. Cade and I hadn't really talked in two weeks because of everything happening, and sometimes it just seemed easier not to.
There was a story about David going to my house that had the shit hitting the fan. Cade went insane over it and even though I told him it was all bullshit, it put us into a funk. We both became defensive and overly sensitive. It was crazy. We knew it… yet it still created problems.
This morning, my decision not to go to Comic-Con was relayed to Cade after Jeanne had called Denise. It wasn't long before my phone, which had been dormant of his calls for at least ten days, began to ring. Part of me was pissed he called me after so long, but a bigger part was just glad that he finally did.
"Yeah?" I answered the phone, knowing it was Cade. It took a few seconds for him to speak.
"I know things have been weird between us, but it isn't the end of us. We're still us. You and me. Just us... like always. Please come to San Diego."
Tears flooded my eyes, and my heart squeezed in my chest, knowing he was absolutely right. No matter how pissed or scared I was, I would always belong with him. I couldn't deny my heart.
"Okay," I’d said brokenly into the phone.
"Tell me you still love me," he'd said softly and my heart lurched.
"You know I do. It's beyond my control."
"I love you, too, love. I've missed you. Not talking to you has been unbearable."
"I don't mean to let all this crap come between us, Cade. It's just so much to deal with."
He let out his breath in relief. "I know. I hate it just as bloody much, but it will never make me doubt the decision to be with you," he said achingly. "Even when I'm brooding and hurt, always know that I love you and want you. I'm sorry for all of this rubbish."
I sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, too. I just hated to see you so tormented and I felt that if the speculation could stop, so would the bullshit. It hurt me and I reacted by pushing you away. I guess it made me feel overwhelmed. I was wrong."
"So will you come to Comic-Con then?"
"I have to film late tonight, so maybe I should wait until tomorrow morning," I hesitated because I still didn't want to see Davina there. It was stupid and childish, but I didn't want to deal with hearing things that the fans or the paps would undoubtedly be screaming at us. "But I know if I wait, there really is no point. All the Remembrance stuff is tomorrow. When are you promoting Only Us?"
"Brook. Davina isn't coming down, okay?"
He read my mind.
"What? Why?"
"I don't know why and I don't care."
Jealousy still reared its ugly head somewhere deep down inside of me as my brain raced to figure out why she would suddenly decide not to be there.
"Love, please stop. I know what you're thinking, Brook. It's no different than you asking me to believe that little weasel isn't stalking you around L.A. I told you that yes, she showed some interest, but I squashed it months ago. This is bloody hard, but I need to see you. Just come to me tonight. Please. I'll wait up for you. I'm aching to see you, love."
I closed my eyes, melting at his words. I loved him; I missed him and I knew that even though we'd argued over the last few weeks, that there was no other place I wanted to be there with him.
"Where are you?" I asked and tried to push down the ache in my voice.
"The Hard Rock Hotel. Will you come tonight then?" he asked anxiously, waiting impatiently for my answer.
"Yes." I nodded, even though he couldn't see the gesture and pushed the hair off of my forehead. "I'll leave as soon as I can get off set, but I don't have many clothes with me. Just some extra stuff I keep in my trailer. If I go home first it will be even later when I get to town."
"I don't care about what you're wearing, you know that. I'm just... well, thankful you agree to come down here. We need this, Brook. No amount of time, space or misunderstandings could ever change how it is between us."
I sighed. "I know. I'm sorry," I said again. "This summer has been so hard. I see what you go through and know what I deal with, and sometimes I just wonder if it's all worth it."
He was silent on the other end of the line for at least a minute and the worry began to well within my chest.
"Cade?"
I could hear him breathing and finally he answered, his words completely unexpected and his voice harsh. "If that's how you bloody feel then don't come. If I'm not worth it, then don't fucking come, Brook!"
The phone had gone dead then and I stood there staring at it in disbelief. I had been trying to explain why I'd been distant, not saying that he wasn't worth it, so what the fuck just happened? Holy shit, I’d asked myself. What had just happened? I panicked, my heart dropping into my stomach as I dialed his number immediately, but it went straight to voicemail. My shoulders slumped as I shut my phone off and walked back toward the set, fighting the tears and struggling to focus on the scene I had to do.
I hadn't been able to reach him all day after that, even though I tried several times. I barely made it through my filming and on my last break I called him again. He finally answered and relief washed over me.
"Cade, please don't hang up. It came out wrong. That wasn’t what I meant and I really want to see you. We are both so raw everything gets so screwed up. Please forgive me." My heart was pounding in my chest in the sudden fear that he would still be angry and not want to see me and maybe hang up on me again.
He let his breath out and I knew he was probably running his hands through his hair or tugging on his eyebrow like he did when he was thinking. "Okay. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have hung up on you." I couldn
't speak as I brushed an errant tear from my cheek and dug my sneaker into the ground. "Just get down here as fast as you can. Everything will be okay once we're together again. This has been too bloody long. It can't be this long again."
The trip was never ending, my anxiousness and exhaustion making it even worse that it really was. When I finally got to San Diego and found the Hard Rock Hotel, I parked in the garage and flew up the stairs to the eleventh floor. Our old routine returned with ease, without a second thought.
I stuck my head carefully out of the stairwell to see if anyone was around before pushing the door wide and breaking into a run. It was early Thursday morning and so thankfully the hallways were clear. I swiftly got to Cade's room and knocked once, the blood rushing in my ears and my hands clenching in anticipation.
I heard shuffling behind the door and five seconds later the door opened and I was falling into his open arms.
"My fucking God, Brook. Oh God!" Cade said as he pulled me into his room. My bag dropped at our feet and he just held me close, crushing my body up against his, his hand cupped around the back of my head as he breathed me in. I turned my face into the curve of his neck and wrapped my arms around him in anxious desperation to be closer to his body. Jesus, I never want to let go. His familiar scent assaulted me; all warm, spicy and man. He held me like that for a minute, both of us absorbing the other as much as we could.
"Cade," I choked out his name just before our mouths locked together in a long, deep kiss. I felt the desperation in him by the way he held me and the way his mouth sucked on mine, our tongues laving each other as we stumbled backward into the room without ever breaking our kiss. His hands tangled in my hair and mine in his as we strained frantically against each other. He lifted me and my arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body while his arms held me so close it felt like we were one person.