by Amy Brent
But I hadn’t heard from him last night, and now he wasn’t answering my text messages.
“Are you sure he’s not just busy?” Ava asked.
“I don’t know. This is what happened when he left for college. We talked, we wrote, and he’d come see me on campus. Then it just stopped,” I said.
“Have you told him this?”
I didn’t know if I could. On one hand, it was only two nights. He was on a book tour, and he was busy with appearances and interviews and bantering with his audience.
But on the other hand …
“No,” I said.
“Well, maybe you should. What he did to you had a massive impact on the woman you grew into. As a doctor, he’ll understand that,” she said.
“I’m just glad Sarah’s not here to see me wound up like this,” I said.
“Where is she?”
“With her grandparents. She was missing them. Saturday cartoons have kind of become her and grandpa’s thing.”
“Well, Logan’s with his father. Want me to come over?” she asked.
“That going well?” I asked.
“It’s going as well as can be expected. We aren’t romantic or anything, but he’s stepped up with Logan. I came home from work the other day, and he had picked Logan up from school early to spend time with him.”
“How did that roll over with you?” I asked.
“I mean, it’s wonderful they’re spending time together, but I had to tell him it couldn’t be at the expense of his schooling. We’re going to sit down sometime next week and figure out some sort of arrangement, so he can be sure he’s got Logan during certain times.”
“That’s wonderful that you two are getting along with this. Just don’t be afraid to hire a mediator if things go south, all right?”
“I know, I know. As of right now, things are okay. I promise,” she said.
“As far as coming over, why don’t we go out? Neither of us has the kids and a drink out sounds kind of nice.”
“You haven’t showered in a while, have you?” she asked.
“Shut up and just say yes.”
“I’ll come by in an hour to pick you up. Dress yourself up nicely. If we’re gonna go out, we’re gonna do it right.”
Going out would get my mind off how much it was whirling. I knew I was spiraling, I could feel it. It was like another voice in my head was chirping at me. Another version of me that was trying to shove me out of the way. Having a couple of drinks with my best friend and distracting myself with music could go a long way in helping me to feel better.
And get away from my phone.
Ava showed up looking beautiful, and the two of us headed out to a bar downtown. We paid the cover charge to listen to some idiotic band before we took a seat at a small table in the corner. Before we knew it, we had two cosmos in our hands and were gossiping about our weeks. We were pointing out hot men walking in from the street and bitching about the shit our kids had pulled this week, but the moment my third drink was placed in front of me, I felt a rant coming on.
“He’s been acting funny ever since we had phone sex.”
“Wait, what?” Ava asked.
“Yeah. Like, I fucking missed him, right? And he looked so damn good on that camera.”
“How the hell could you keep something like this from me? Spill it all.”
“He was so sexy on that screen. Him jerking himself off? Yes, please. His cock looked massive in his hands, and his hands are huge,” I said.
“Oh, girl. You are so lucky. That’s some freaky shit right there. I miss the freaky shit.”
“I had my legs propped up so he could see it all and everything. I even busted out Carlos.”
“Holy shit, sparkling pink Carlos made an appearance?” she asked.
“And it felt wonderful. I’ve never seen come shoot that far up a man’s body before in my life,” I said. “And the shit coming out of my mouth was insane. I think at one point in time, I told him I wanted him to stuff me full of my dildo while he fucked me at the other end.”
“Holy shit, Melissa, way to go!”
“But our conversation Thursday night was a bit short and clipped, and then he didn’t call at all Friday. And you can obviously see how tonight went.”
“And you think it has something to do with the phone sex,” Ava said.
“Or maybe he found someone else to be with. Someone better. You know he married that Russian chick because her father paid him to?”
“What? You’ve been fucking holding out on me, Melissa.”
“Yeah. He invested the money, and that’s what he used to build his business here in L.A. Maybe someone else has cut him a deal he can’t refuse.”
I could feel my anger and frustration already boiling in my blood. I was drunker than I’d intended on getting, but I threw back the last of my drink anyway before I slid from the stool.
“He’s probably just busy and shit,” Ava said as she slid from her seat. “But if it’s bugging you this much, be straight up with him. What’s the worst that could happen? You’ve already lost him once.”
“Thanks for that reminder, dickhead.”
“You know what I’m saying.”
“Can we just get out of here?” I asked.
Ava got me home, and I stumbled into my house. The room was tilting, and my stomach was churning, so I flopped down onto the couch and closed my eyes. My mind was full of so many things I wanted to say to Brandon, and I knew the only way I was going to have the courage to say them was to call him.
That night.
His phone rang and rang and rang, and with each ring, I grew angrier and angrier. I bet he was fucking some other woman. Some other pale-skinned beauty with long legs and smooth skin. No stretch marks and tight little thighs. I bet she had dainty feet he was massaging after he plowed into her.
I bet she didn’t suck his cock like I did.
“You’ve reached the voice mail of Dr. Brandon Black. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you the moment I can.”
“Brandon,” I said. “It’s me. Melissa. You know, phone sex girl. I don’t—”
I felt myself about to vomit, and I took a deep breath. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my tears at bay as my hands began to shake. There were so many things I wanted to spew. There were so many things I wanted to say. So many memories were piling to the forefront of my mind, and I could feel my breathing becoming shallow.
It was now or never.
“I don’t know why you’ve dropped off the face of the earth again, but I just wanted to tell you to give me more respect than that. If you got some girl’s legs wrapped around you, cool. Just tell me. Don’t come showing up on my fucking doorstep with some other, more beautiful woman on your arm. I won’t be able to handle it this time. Just be upfront with me, tell me you met someone better, and leave. You were good at it once, but that doesn’t mean you get to do it again.”
I felt my stomach lurch again as I burped. I knew I was going to be sick. I knew I was going to spend my entire night on my knees with my head in the toilet.
But I had to do this.
I had to say it.
“I loved you back then. And I’m scared to love you now. Especially with having that fabulous phone sex and then noth—”
“To send your message, press one or hang up the line. To delete and start over, press two.”
“Fuck!”
I hung up the phone before I rolled off the bed. I crawled my way to the bathroom, holding back my vomit until I could get my mouth over the edge. Dinner came up. The cosmos came up. Stomach bile burned my throat as my knees dug into the cold ceramic. Tears were streaming down my face as my hair fell into the toilet, and for the first time in my life, I felt as if I’d hit rock bottom.
It was dark at the bottom of this hole I’d dug for myself.
I vomited up everything in my stomach until I was doing nothing but heaving on the floor. I laid down, my vomit-covered hair sticking to my neck while I pressed my hot
cheek against the cold floor. Tears pooled around my face as I curled up into a ball, shaking as I cried for what my life had become. I cried for my daughter who would never know the incredible man her father was. I cried for my parents who would never know of the beautiful granddaughter they had. I cried for my heart that had been shattered and broken and mangled and trashed.
And I cried for Brandon. For the life that could have been had I not allowed life to damage me as much as it did.
“Why is all this happening?” I sobbed. “Why can’t I get better?”
I sobbed so hard, in fact, that I didn’t even hear my phone ring out in the other room.
I cried so hard I wasn’t aware that Brandon was trying to call me back.
Chapter 27
Brandon
Melissa’s voice mail made me nervous, but the fact that she wasn’t answering her phone made me panic. She was obviously drunk by the way she was slurring her words, and I could tell the alcohol had finally unlocked the last of the resentment she had toward me. I knew things hadn’t been between us when I left, but now I felt as if I was going to lose her. It wasn’t that I was avoiding her, I’d just had a couple of late nights and was wary of calling her at one o’clock in the morning.
Fuck, I should’ve sent her some text messages.
I called my agent and told her I’d have to postpone the second week of this tour. She tried to convince me while I was packing my bags that it wasn’t a good look, but I didn’t care. It was about damn time I put something other than my career as a priority, and for once, I was going to make Melissa just that.
I was going to make her my priority.
I knew she didn’t trust me, and she had every right. She was afraid to love me, and I understood why. I booked the first flight home while my agent tried to call me, but I simply ignored her calls. I wasn’t doing the last leg of this book tour. Not until I could right things between Melissa and me.
I tried getting her on the phone before I got onto the plane. I cursed myself for not having anyone else’s number. Not her boss or her doctor or her best friend. No one’s. I had no way of checking in on her to make sure she hadn’t had too much to drink or choked on her own vomit or even if she had tripped and knocked herself unconscious. All these scenarios ran through my head as I flew back to L.A., and the moment I walked off my private jet, I made a mad dash for the car that was waiting for me.
By the time I got to my car and headed straight for Melissa’s, it was two o’clock in the afternoon. Her car was there and the lights in her living room were on, but there wasn’t any sort of motion going on behind the curtain. I stumbled out of my car and ran up to her doorstep, jiggling her doorknob before I started banging on her door.
Holy fuck, I needed her to be all right.
“Melissa!” I yelled as I banged on her door. “Melissa! Open up! Please!”
I stood there to see if I could hear anything, and for a moment I didn’t. I resumed banging on her door, my fist on fire as the door shook on its hinges. I was banging so hard, I didn’t hear her walking up to the door, and when she opened it up, I practically fell into her. She gasped, steadying herself on her feet as she held me close, and the moment I picked my head up, I crashed my lips onto hers.
She tasted like alcohol and residual vomit, but sweet fuck, I didn’t care. She was alive. She was conscious. And she was in my arms.
“Brandon?” she murmured.
“I’m so glad you’re all right,” I said.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Your voice mail. I got your voice mail.”
“My what?”
Wow. She really had been drunk.
“You left me a voice mail last night. I tried calling and calling, and when I didn’t hear from you, I panicked.”
“How are you here? What about—wait, don’t you have an interview tonight?” she asked.
“Not anymore.” I wrapped my arms around her and stepped into her home. I shut the door behind me before my lips flew to her neck. She sighed into me, her body melting into my arms as I licked the salty taste from her skin.
I needed her to know that she was at the forefront of my mind. Always.
“What did I say in the message?” she asked.
I stopped kissing her and raised my eyes to meet her stare. She was curious, I could tell, but something also told me she knew what she’d said. She looked wary. Nervous. With a hint of relief like she was glad something had been said, but she didn’t know quite how she’d phrased it.
“You told me you were scared to love me because of what happened, that me dropping off the face of the earth made you nervous that I was with someone else, and you wanted me to be upfront with you about it if it had happened,” I said.
She nodded slowly as her arms fell from mine, but all I did was pull her closer to me.
“I had some late nights at some bookstores. Friday and Saturday, I didn’t get in until almost one in the morning. I didn’t know if you’d appreciate me calling that late.”
I could see the relief wash over her face as tears crested her eyes. Her hair was crusted to her neck, and I could see a massive red spot on her cheek, and I slowly pieced together what had happened. She’d probably fallen asleep getting sick from the alcohol, and my banging had woken her up from wherever she’d passed out.
“Melissa, are you all right?” I asked.
“I, uh, have to call Carl’s parents. Make sure they can keep Sarah a bit longer so I can clean up,” she said.
“Sounds like a good idea. I’ll run you a bath. How does that sound?”
“Sounds great,” she said, smiling.
She went in search of her phone while I headed to her bathroom. I ran hot water into the tub and poured some vanilla-scented bubbles into the bath. I took the liberty of washing her floor, getting the mess off the tiles before she ventured back in. Her shoulders were slumped, and her hair was a mess. Her eyes were red from exhaustion, and her voice croaked with pain. I turned off the hot water and slowly began to undress her. Then I picked her up and slowly sank her into the bath as she sighed with relief.
I shed my clothes and piled them on the floor before I slid in behind her. My hands slowly cupped water, pouring it over her head as I began to wash her down. Shampoo, conditioner, and soap riddled her body while my hands slowly massaged from her head to her legs, and with each circular movement, I could feel her relaxing into me.
But the moment I started washing her thighs, I felt her legs spread a little wider than they should.
Her head laid back onto my shoulder as I planted a small kiss on her cheek. I allowed the washcloth to float away while the bubbles popped against our bodies. Her chest was flushed with want while the conditioner softened her hair, and as my fingertips made my way between her pussy folds, I could feel her already squirming at my touch.
“Brandon,” she whispered.
“I’m right here,” I said as my lips grazed her ear.
Slowly, I allowed my fingers to explore her. I clocked every place that made her jump as I massaged her pussy folds. I ran my fingertips along the edge, feeling her press deeply into my chest as my cock grew against her back. I found her pulsing clit, the hood peeling itself back as it grew underneath my ministrations. She tossed her leg over the edge of the tub, giving me greater access as she offered her body to me.
“I could never want for another woman after getting you back,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly.
“Don’t ever be sorry for speaking your truth. Thank you for letting me in.” I pushed my fingertips into her clit to punctuate my statement. She moaned out lightly, her back arching away from me as my other hand came up to cup her breast. My cock was smashed against her back, her soft skin against my throbbing dick as she ground back into my hips. The friction was enough to drive me wild as I slowly circled her clit, and every time she bucked back into me, my cock leaked with delight.
“You came back,” she whispered.
“Let it be the first of many precedents I’ll set.”
I picked up my ministrations as her body began to quiver. Her fingertips dug into my thighs and her back thrust against my cock. I tweaked her nipple, playing with it between my fingers as she moaned and groaned. I could feel her pussy humming with lust as she bucked wildly against my hand, sending soapy water sloshing over the sides of the tub.