by Frankie Love
Bex walks into the room. Her lips are painted red again, but I know they’re still swollen from last night. Because they were wrapped around my cock for plenty of time.
"Holden," she says, looking confused. "I thought you were headed back to LA?"
"I am, I just wanted to stop and say good-bye."
"Oh," she says, looking at her dad. "Uh, Dad, I'm going out front with Holden."
Once outside, with the door closed, she crosses her arms. "You know my parents hate you."
"Ouch."
"What? Holden, your reputation is the same as it's always been."
"Okay," I say uneasily, not exactly sure what her beef is. "It didn't seem to bother you last night."
She presses her index finger to her lip. "I don't want them to know."
I lean in, whispering, "Don't want them to know what? That you like sucking my cock as much as I like licking your pussy?"
Her face turns beet red, but her eyes cross. "I don't like that kind of talk, Holden. I'm not like your other girls."
I pull away, raise my hands. "Okay. This is not what I fucking expected."
"What did you expect, Holden?" She shakes her head, speaking softly, "Look, last night was amazing, and something I know we’ve both wanted for a really long time. And I thought it was the best way to ask for your forgiveness."
"Seriously? It was a forgiveness fuck?"
"Is that even a thing?" she asks.
"I think you made it one, girl." I step farther away, so fucking pissed. For four years she pushed me away, and now it's like she’s doing it all over again.
"Don't, Holden. Don't walk away mad. I thought we settled things last night."
"Nothing is settled, Bexley." I lift my eyes to the sky, wishing we could be on the same page.
"What do you want from me?" she asks. "I have my life here. I'm student teaching, and I’m about to start my career. Meanwhile, you're starring in action movies where you have maybe twelve lines in an entire ninety-minute film, and you’re on the cover of every magazine with a different Hollywood hottie every week."
"Wow. So that's what you think of me?"
"Is there more?"
"Fuck, Bex. Really? You're going to judge my movie choices now?"
"You're better than that. You could be a real actor."
"And you could be less judgmental."
"I'm not judging you. I'm sorry. That wasn't nice. You are making an amazing career for yourself—not exactly the one I thought you were after, but you're on the cover of every magazine. You’ve made a name for yourself, that's for sure."
"And meanwhile you’re back at Tolling High. But I'm the sell-out."
Of course I moved to LA hoping I'd star in a film that valued me beyond my ripped body and bright smile. But Johnny Jumper was a sure bet, a guaranteed paycheck ... even if I know the movies aren't exactly adding value to the culture.
Changing my career path now is terrifying. What if I'm a hack? What if I'm nothing more than Johnny?
Staring at Bex now, I realize that of course she's the only one who would call me out about my movie roles. She's the one who always believed I was more than a pretty face.
"Last night was incredible," I say, hating that I'm trying to convince her of something we both know is the goddamn truth. "Don't pretend it wasn't."
"Last night wasn't real life. It was something that was a long time coming. It was you and I finally finishing what we started when we were kids."
"So it's finished?" I ask, my voice growing loud. "That's what you're trying to tell me? Last night was your good-bye?"
"I think so, Holden. As long as you're the man you're choosing to be, and I'm the woman I'm choosing to be, I don't think those two people can mesh."
"And you don't want to try?"
"Try what exactly, Holden?" She shakes her head and a tendril of hair falls from her bun. She tucks it behind her ear, licks her lips, not meeting my eyes. But I see a tear fall from her eye. "I think we already made our choices."
"That's fucking bullshit. You haven't changed, Bexley. Not one bit." I ball my hand into a fist, pound it against my other palm. I’m so fucking pissed.
Tears stream down her cheeks and I hate that she doesn't want me to wipe them away.
Fuck that, I know she wants me to. She wants me. But Bexley never gives in to what she really wants. Except last night—that was the single time she's ever followed her heart.
I breathe, meet her gaze, tell her the truth: "You’re still the same scared girl, following orders and ignoring your heart. You're the world-class actor here. Not me."
"I think you should go," she says, wiping her tears.
I turn and walk away.
Chapter Ten
Bexley
As Holden walks away I feel like a legitimate bitch.
But, come on, who am I kidding?
He shows up here in his town car, headed back to LA and a world I know nothing about.
And besides, we said we made up for the past ... but did we really? Did a forgiveness fuck erase anything besides my curiosity about what-if?
Now I have the answer. Holden was amazing in bed. He blew my mind. There’s no denying that.
But when I woke up at three AM, naked in his arms, all I could imagine were the other girls who have ended up in that exact same place in the middle of the night. Pussy aching and lips swollen and nipples still erect.
Am I an insecure girl?
Absolutely. I have never once hid that from anyone, least of all from myself.
And so I tell him to go, because the truth is, we haven't spoken in four years. The truth says an awful lot. If we were really meant for more ... meant to be Beldon, then I doubt either of us could have walked away.
Twice.
But we did.
I call Sami. "So," I tell her. "I did it."
"No fucking way!" Her shriek is deafening and I hold the phone from away to save my eardrums. "Precious little Bexley lost her V-Card. To the hottest man in America. Tell me everything. Was the interview he did for Cosmo true? Does he really like to fuck for hours and then call in room service?"
"I don't know about that. We had sex in his childhood bedroom."
"OMG, that's even better. It's nostalgic. I mean, didn't you two almost kiss there one time?"
"Almost." I regret telling her about the night we stayed up memorizing lines on his carpeted floor. He was Romeo and I was not Juliet. I was playing the part of Juliet's nanny. But I was there to help Holden, reading Juliet’s lines ... and I nearly kissed him as we played our parts.
But, shocker: I pulled back.
Now, on the phone with Sami, I wonder what would have happened if I had leaned in.
"Well," she says. "Tell me ... how was it?"
"It felt like it was supposed to happen. Like it was inevitable."
"A good inevitable though, right?"
"Like perfect inevitable. Everything about it felt so safe and natural, and like ... we fit."
"Soooo," she says, drawing out and exaggerating the word. "When is the wedding?"
"He went home. We aren't a thing. And honestly … I mean, we never will be."
"Okay, back up."
"No, I just—I told him we had made our choices, and I had a good time, and I'm glad he forgave me."
"Wow. I knew you were repressed, but I had no idea my bestie was such a cold, hard bitch."
"Don't be like that. It's complicated."
"Did he want more, Bex?"
"I don't know. He wasn't exactly getting down on one knee."
"And if he had, Bex, what would you have said?"
"It doesn't matter. He wasn't. He wasn't offering me anything."
"But if he was."
"If he was?" I sigh, wondering why I’m giving into Sami's line of questioning, remembering this girl can get me to do anything once she’s planted the seed of an idea into my brain. I should hang up right now. Still, she's my best friend and she deserves an answer. "If he was ... I probably would
have still said no."
"Because?"
"Because I'm going to be a teacher. And he's a movie star." I pause, not knowing if I should say more and just be done with it. Done with him.
"And?" Sami presses. Damn, this girl is relentless.
"And I don't trust him, Sami. I never have. He's what bad boy romance novels are made of. Lots of girls. Lots of money. No commitments."
"Right," Sami snorts. "Because you're so comfortable with commitment."
"Okay, I love you, but I'm done with this."
"You're the one who called me, Bex. It's not fair to be pissy with me because you're more comfortable living in your own shadow."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means of course you pushed Holden away. The idea of him and you means you have to figure out why you're back in Tolling, and face the reason you never went to LA in the first place."
The line is silent. Sami and Holden have swallowed a little too much truth serum, because I feel blasted with the reality of how they both think of me.
"Listen, Bex, maybe I crossed a line," Sami says, taking on a softer tone she must know I need. "Maybe you don't want to hear this from me. And that's okay. I love you, and I’m here for you. Why don't you call when you’re ready to talk?"
"Love you, too," I say, not able to muster anything more.
Monday morning, I go back to teaching, ready to throw my heart and soul into the job like I never have before. I talk with my advising teacher, Rita Childs, asking if I could take anything else off her plate.
Her eyes get wide with excitement. "Honestly, helping get this office cleared out would be amazing." She looks around the full office, the one that she's still using until she can get her stuff moved into the new theater.
"Okay," I say, assessing the space. "I can totally help."
"Really?" Rita asks.
"I'd love to. I'm not exactly a professional organizer, but sometimes making the decisions is the hardest part of decluttering."
"Well, that would be wonderful. I know it goes above and beyond what’s required of your student teaching, but it would help. I'm swamped."
"Oh, really?" I ask, a little surprised. Not to be dismissive, but I don't get the impression the Rita is exactly overworked.
"Well, my mother's in San Diego, and had knee surgery last month. She's recovering slowly, and I'm going out to see her most weekends—but of course there isn’t time for everything."
"Except now you have me," I tell her, smiling.
"I guess I do." She winks. "You know, I was wondering if Holden showing back up was going to make you regret being here at Tolling High. The old drama teacher told me you two were his shining students."
"Right." I raise my eyebrows. "Mr. Pepper was always generous with the compliments."
"Well, I've been hearing about you from more than your old teacher. I've heard your parents gushing about you in the teachers’ lounge since I started teaching here two years ago."
"Kind of awkward," I mumble, wondering what exactly my parents have been saying.
"Not awkward," Rita says, patting my shoulder. "Proud. Proud that you chose to be a teacher, follow in their footsteps. "
"Right. Well, it's nice to know they're proud of me." I smile tightly. "Working together ... just like I always dreamed."
"Well, I'm glad to have you right here, Bexley. The students are too."
I nod, telling myself that the best thing I can do right now is throw myself all-in to this job. This life that I have.
The one I chose. The one I want.
And the mantra works—until Holden calls me late on Monday night.
Chapter Eleven
Holden
On the ride home, I don't want to think. I'm so fucking pissed at Bexley.
And the best cure for a mind-fuck is a classic Holden pool party.
I text Jude and Cash.
Me: Party. My place. Tonight. I wanna get lit.
Jude: Rachel says she's in.
Me: And you?
Jude: You know I can't deny my girl and my boy what they want.
Me: Cash?
Cash: Sounds good. But Evie wants to know why you never threw any parties when she lived with you!
Me: She lived with me for like three weeks. Tell her there will be tequila. Lots.
Cash: We're in.
Several hours later, I've got a DJ on the patio, caterers with trays of food, and plenty of bartenders to mix drinks. I've got this whole last-minute party thing pretty much covered. I know who to call, and when I'm in a bind Jude always seems to have a hook-up.
By the time Cassius and Evie show up, there are people all over my place, topless girls swimming, a bonfire on the beach, and a hot tub filled with what looks like the beginnings of an orgy.
I grin. Bexley doesn't want me? Fine. I'll find someone else who isn't an uptight, critical beotch. Like that girl who's sauntering over to me as we speak, with a string bikini and nice, long legs, perfect for wrapping around my waist.
"Hey, Holden, great party," she purrs, cozying up under my arm. "You always have the best parties."
"Yeah?" I say. Cassius and Evie are walking toward me, drinks in hand. I look down at this girl, mostly only seeing her over-the-top fake tits, and ask, "How do you and I know one another again?"
She laughs. Okay, more of a cackle, and I instantly remember how we know one another. She was an extra on the set of Johnny Jumper 3, and we shared a few nights together. Nothing about them was memorable besides the fact that when she came she laughed like a fucking witch—and not in a sexy witch way. In a what the fuck sort of way.
"Who's your friend?" Evie asks, eyes wide, concealing a smile. She likes to give me a hard time about the women who show up here to ride me.
"Uh, this is...." I look at the girl on my arm, no fucking clue what her name is.
"Coco," she says, lowering her chin and gazing up at Cash, offering him her hand.
He shakes it awkwardly, but doesn't offer her anymore. He looks at Evie, sharing a look only two people head over heels in love can.
Good for them.
"Hey, I'll catch you later, Coco," I tell her, stepping away from her and toward my friends, mouthing Save me to them as we head inside to my living room. As we’re settling into couches with drinks in hand, Jude and Rachel join us.
Jude has his regular doing-my-best-to-keep-this-relationship-alive face on—tight smile and tired eyes. His hand is on Rachel's back.
Rachel is moaning about not being able to drink, and her baby bump is on display.
Jude has already warned us how much she hates the fact that she's having this baby, because it's messing with her ability to drink and because it's making her, apparently, “fat as fuck”—her words, not his. I know better than to mention that I think she looks fucking gorgeous with her round ass and tummy and full breasts.
"Quite the party, asshole," Jude says, greeting us.
Rachel has already decided she’s bored, and leaves for the patio. "What's the occasion?"
"Oh, just had my heart broken by the same girl for the second fucking time in my life," I tell him.
"Ouch." Evie grimaces.
"I know. I thought a rager might dull the shot to my heart, but all it seems to be doing is reminding me that I've already fucked half the girls here and never called them back for a reason."
"Who’s this girl?" Cassius asks. "Because I know from motherfucking experience that not fighting for what you really want is a coward's move."
His girl grabs his hand and kisses his knuckles that have the word EVIE in all caps inked across them.
Cash pulls Evie toward him, and she kisses him full on the mouth. I know from hanging out with them every weekend that these two will be straddling one another in about ten minutes, and then excusing themselves to find a secluded spot on my private beach.
Shaking my head, I look at Jude. "She's Bexley. From high school. The girl who fucking got away."
"So what are you gonna do
about it?" he asks.
Surprisingly, Evangeline pulls away from Cassius and exclaims, "Bexley? Your old BFF Bexley?" She punches me in the shoulder. "Holden you never told me you loved her."
"What is there to tell?" I shake my head. "We were supposed to move to LA after we graduated high school. She backed out. We hadn't talked in four years."
"Cold," Cassius says, shaking his head and letting out a low whistle. "You loved her and haven't spoken in four years?"
"Well, we spoke last night, at the theater dedication thing."
Jude laughs, grabbing a beer that a cocktail waitress hands him as she passes by. "Bro, I know what speaking with you means."
"Does it matter, if she still told me she wasn't interested?" I ask.
"Were those her exact words?" Evie asks.
I run my hand through my hair. Damn, these three have worked themselves into my life really damn quick. Cassius never had a crew in LA until he met Evie and me. And Jude, well he and I go way back, but never with real shit. It's always been about partying together, dogging on one another for the movies we worked on. When I first moved to LA we had the same agent. We started out in this town at the same time.
But after the shit went down with Cassius and almost losing Evangeline, we got hella tight. All four of us. Of course, Jude's with Rachel ... but that relationship is way over my fucking head and I stay clear.
I owe them; that's the God's honest truth.
"Fuck, she thinks I'm a player who hasn't changed since school, and I accused her of being the same repressed bitch she used to be."
"Wow, so besides being the movie star of the decade, you're also a complete douchebag," Evie says, laughing, and semi-choking on her margarita.
"You okay, girl?" I ask, smiling. "I mean, not that a douche like me would care."
"You know what I mean," she says, and wipes her mouth with a napkin. "I mean, what do you need to do to get this girl back?"
I groan, falling back against the couch cushions.
"Bex isn’t like other girls."
Cassius laughs. "Right, because Evie and Rachel are so fucking cookie cutter."
"That's not what I mean. I mean ... Bexley is scared silly of anything outside of her comfort zone."