by L.H. Cosway
It turned out a combination of walking, taxis and the subway was our best bet for getting about. A little while later, James and Paul joined me in the lobby. Since our hotel was so close to Central Park, we only had to walk across the street. Our main point of interest was Belvedere Castle, an architectural gem that featured a mix of Gothic and Romanesque design styles. After visiting the observation deck and taking in the amazing view of the city, we took a walk around the outside.
“I like the look of this rocky outcrop,” Paul said as he bent over the edge of the castle walls. He was so far over he was practically dangling in mid-air. Normally, I would’ve gotten a jolt of fear that he’d fall over, but I was slowly getting used to the fact that my bosses could do things with their bodies that the average person couldn’t.
James scaled the wall in a single, lithe jump, and like always, butterflies invaded my stomach. Never mind how attracted I was to him as a person, when James did parkour, he might as well be a God. I couldn’t fathom how many hours of practice it would take to become so skilled, so sure of your own body and confident in every jump and leap.
I watched his tall frame as he stood atop the wall, looking down and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He glanced at Paul. “Should we try to climb down from here?”
Any normal person would’ve responded with a hell no, but Paul replied with a casual, “Sure, it looks doable.”
“Um, what about the pond at the bottom?” I questioned. I felt like I needed to be the voice of reason.
James shot me a teasing grin. “Don’t worry, M. We won’t fall in.”
I shook my head, trying to glare and failing, a grin of my own breaking through. I looked over my shoulder to make sure there were no security guards hanging around as James and Paul began to scale down the rocky terrain below the castle, my heart in my throat even though deep down I knew they’d be okay. I’d watched them do far scarier stunts than this.
Several tourists gathered around to watch, a number of them filming on their phones. Running on Air would likely be trending on social media in a few minutes. Normally, I might’ve filmed their climb and posted it to the official accounts myself, but sometimes other people did the promotional work for you.
“We’ll meet you at the front,” James called up to me, his hands around his mouth, before he and Paul disappeared behind the trees that surrounded one side of the building.
I hurried out, impressed when they were already there waiting for me.
“You guys have to film an episode here. The tourists were completely awestruck watching you climb down.”
“If we do, we’ll have to go one better and climb to the top of the observation tower from the outside,” Paul said, seeming excited about the prospect.
“Show off,” James teased with a smile.
Once we finished up in the park, we made our way to the Guggenheim museum. The building was a striking, modern design and Paul was particularly interested in figuring out the logistics of filming both inside and outside the museum. After that, we walked to the nearest subway station, and I wore a constant smile on my face. It was just crazy that this was my job.
“You’re cheerful today,” Paul commented as we entered the station, obviously noting my good mood.
I nodded, grinning wide. “This is my first full day in New York, so I’m pretty excited. Also, I might’ve had three espressos for breakfast.”
“Three? Now that’s living dangerously.” Paul smiled as we boarded a train.
James stayed mostly quiet. When more commuters got on, I was jostled close to him, and I couldn’t help breathing in his piney scent. He always smelled the same and there was something comforting about it.
“Sorry,” I whispered when my chest brushed his. There was way too little space. I tried my hardest to maintain at least an inch between us.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, and I met his eyes for the briefest second. There was definitely something different about him this morning, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
When we finally reached our stop, I stepped quickly off the subway, glad to put some distance between James and me. We walked to a popular old-school parkour spot on the Lower East Side. Nicknamed “scoops”, it was a mostly concrete park in the middle of a bunch of apartment buildings. It definitely had the right look for an episode of Running on Air. I documented the area meticulously with photographs, while James and Paul discussed the type of parkour they could do here, practicing a few jumps and climbs as they did.
Next, we went to Hamilton Fish Park, which was only a short walk away. It was a similar terrain to scoops, but it was perhaps a little more vertically challenging for the group, with higher places to jump from. Again, I took pictures, which I would email to James and Paul at the end of the day.
By the time we were done, my feet ached and all I wanted to do was go lie down. James was right to make me buy better shoes. We were all so exhausted that we decided to postpone our night out until tomorrow, which I was very relieved about. The idea of going out in a city like this with James made me more than a little nervous. New York was so fast and exciting, so full of life, and I feared I could get carried away with a few drinks in me.
I brushed my teeth, washed off my makeup, and changed into my pyjamas. Then I ordered room service and settled in to watch a movie before hopefully getting at least ten hours of sleep. The movie I’d selected was Magic Mike, mainly because I hadn’t seen it yet, and okay, also because Callum’s performance at Leanne’s birthday party had me intrigued. I was about ten minutes in, already fully invested in the storyline, when there was a soft knock on my door. Huh, room service was quick. I went to answer it but instead found James standing in the doorway, looking tired and delectable.
“Need some company?” he asked, voice low and my heart skipped a beat. I tried not to hyperventilate.
“Sure, come in,” I replied, schooling my expression. What was going on?
James stepped into the room, taking it all in, a smirk gracing his lips when he saw what I was watching. “Magic Mike?” he commented, eyebrows raised.
“What?” I folded my arms. “I haven’t seen it before and I wanted to know what all the fuss was about.”
He chuckled quietly and the delicious sound vibrated through me.
“Have you eaten yet?” I asked. “I just ordered room service, but I could call them back.”
James sat down on my bed, and my stomach did a somersault at sight of his hands braced flat on the sheets. Why was that so sexy?
“Don’t trouble yourself,” he replied. “I had a protein bar in my room.”
“A protein bar isn’t enough,” I chided.
He rubbed his jaw. “Okay. Order me whatever you think sounds good.”
“Will do,” I said then went to pick up the phone. Despite my casual façade, my heart was beating a mile a minute. I willed it to slow down but it was no use. I was both nervous and excited to be alone with James. Sure, we’d been alone in my room at his house, but that was a sparsely furnished bedroom with a futon. This was a five-star luxury hotel with sumptuous, stylish interiors. Something about that made things feel more intimate. Adventurous even. Like I could do things here I might never do at home, and that was a dangerous thought.
I decided to order James a steak. He was probably just as starved as I was after all the walking we did today. I turned back around to find him stretched out on the bed, his arms folded above his head and his back leaning against the pillows. Totally comfortable.
It was exactly where I’d been lounging before he arrived, and I found it unfair how relaxed he was while tiny acrobats were doing backflips inside my stomach. I picked up the remote control and turned my attention to the TV.
“We can watch something else,” I said, scrolling through the options.
James reached out and took the remote from my hands. “I’ve interrupted your night, Michaela, so we’ll watch what you want to watch. Now come sit,” he said, patting the space next to him.
W
arily, I sat, but I couldn’t relax, not with him so close. I knew James would never try anything weird. It was me I didn’t trust.
“So, you don’t like being alone in hotel rooms?” I ventured curiously.
“What makes you ask that?”
“I just thought that might be why you wanted to hang out,” I replied.
James let out a long sigh. “It’s not that I don’t like hotel rooms. I’ve just been having a hard time sleeping lately, and the more I try to fall asleep, the worse it gets. They say you should get up and do something if you can’t sleep, instead of just lying in bed, so that’s why I came here.” He paused to study me. “I can leave if you—”
“No, no, you can stay. It’s fine.” I eyed him sadly. “Can you not sleep because of your mum?”
James’ brow furrowed, his mouth making a sad shape. “It’s a little because of Mum, but it’s also because I’ve stopped…” He paused mid-sentence, like he hadn’t meant to reveal whatever he’d been about to say.
“Because you’ve stopped what?” I questioned in a soft voice. Seeing Diana? Did he miss her? The thought caused a sharp, jealous pang in my chest.
He ran a hand over his face, looking so tired. He really must not be sleeping well. “Please promise me you won’t tell any of the others this,” he said, “because I’m not sure they’d understand.”
Oh my God. I was right. This had to be about Diana. I braced myself for the blow, shifting to face him fully and placing a hand on his arm. “Whatever it is, I’ll keep it between us. You can trust me on that.”
He looked away for a second, seeming almost…ashamed. When he brought his attention back to me, his face was etched with worry. “For the last few years, I’ve been on anti-anxiety medication,” he said and my eyebrows jumped. Okay, so this wasn’t what I’d expected. I hated to admit the relief I felt.
“I’d been experiencing a lot of stress about signing on to Running on Air,” James continued. “Diana convinced me that medication would help me overcome it. So I started taking pills and have been for years. But I stopped taking them recently because I hate relying on them. They feel like a crutch, but I also don’t feel like I need them anymore. I love being on the show. It doesn’t freak me out like it used to. The problem is the withdrawal has been rough. I’ve been dealing with bouts of insomnia and stomach pain.”
I was completely shocked. I didn’t even realise what I was doing when I reached out and pulled him into a hug. James seemed to sink into the embrace, wrapping his arms around me in response.
“I had no idea,” I whispered.
“I did a good job of hiding it,” he said, voice low, his breath hitting the top of my ear.
Suddenly, I was very much aware of his body on mine, his hard chest and stomach pressing into me. I didn’t want to pull away, but I knew I had to. Just another minute…
At last, I drew back a little, my eyes travelling back and forth between his. “Have you seen a doctor yet? Maybe they could prescribe you something for the withdrawal symptoms.”
James shook his head. “I can deal with the symptoms. They’ll fade eventually. Besides, I don’t want any more pills. I just want to get back to my old self.”
“You should still see a doctor,” I went on. “Just to have a checkup and make sure everything’s okay.”
“Maybe I’ll go when we get back to London,” he said.
I swallowed thickly when his gaze lowered to my mouth. Stop looking there! my subconscious screamed while my libido told it to shut the hell up. Whatever James was thinking right then, I wanted to know more than anything.
We were locked in a moment, still half hugging, when his hand came to rest on my cheek. “You’re always there when I need you.”
“Just trying to be a good friend,” I answered, the words barely audible.
“It’s not just that though—”
A knock sounded on the door.
Room service couldn’t have arrived at a more opportune time. Or was it inopportune? I jumped up from the bed and hurried to let them in. A porter carried in a large tray and set it down on the table by the window while James pulled a twenty out of his wallet for a tip.
The porter left and we were alone again. I removed the fancy silver domes that covered the food.
“You got a starter, a main course, and a dessert,” James observed, sounding amused.
“What? It was a long day and I’m starving,” I protested, and the tension of a moment ago dissipated. Just like that, we were back to our normal selves. I couldn’t decide if I was happy about that or disappointed.
“You better eat quick,” James said. “That chocolate cake is looking awfully tempting.”
I held up a fork, a playful threat. “Touch my cake and suffer the wrath…of my fork.”
James chuckled. “The wrath of your fork?”
“Forks can be deadly weapons if used correctly.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I don’t doubt you.”
We brought our plates over to the bed, because what was the point of staying in a hotel if you can’t at least eat in bed? After our heart-to-heart, it was surprisingly relaxed and not at all awkward watching the movie together. I even shared my chocolate cake with him.
We both seemed to silently agree to forget the moment before the food arrived and I was glad of that. The intensity of it was way too much to contemplate, never mind discuss.
“I could do that,” James said when Channing Tatum did an impressively acrobatic dance move.
“You’re on Running on Air. You can do a whole lot more, I’m sure,” I said, and he looked pleased with the compliment.
We ended up watching two more movies; Dunkirk (James’ choice) and The Grand Budapest Hotel (my choice). Both were really good. In fact, I didn’t know about James, but I definitely didn’t want him to leave. I could’ve spent the entire night watching movies with him. My earlier panic was gone completely now, and there was something peaceful about spending time with him like this. By the third movie, we were both lying down. I had my side of the bed and James had his. The foot or so of space between us felt like a galaxy of distance. My fingers itched to reach out and skim along his arm just to see what it felt like. Then I thought of how he might react. Would he be shocked? Disgusted? Intrigued?
I wasn’t brave enough to take the risk. And besides, touching him was not part of the plan. Nothing that had happened tonight was part of my plan, but I was too weak to resist. When James showed up at my door looking tired and needy for company, there was no way I could’ve told him to leave. There were a few moments where I tried to force my mouth to say the words, but those words were vetoed by the part of me that was besotted with him.
I must’ve been staring because he turned to me then. I quickly looked away, embarrassed, and did my best to focus on the movie. He didn’t mention the staring, which was a relief.
This man had opened up to me, told me things he hadn’t told anyone else, about Diana, the medication. That meant he trusted me.
My heart clenched at the thought that he’d needed medicine to deal with anxiety. I’d always seen James as this strong, confident, put-together person, but he had issues just like the rest of us. He’d been carrying so much on his shoulders these last few weeks, and all I wanted was to relieve some of the burden. I hoped talking to me helped at least a little.
He must’ve sensed me studying him because he stretched out, his fingers skimming along my arm, leaving tingles in their wake.
“What are you doing all the way over there?” he asked, his voice pure gravel and I swear I stopped breathing.
Nineteen
Michaela
“Michaela,” James whispered then, his husky voice washing over me.
“Yes?” I whispered back, still hardly able to breathe.
“Come here,” he murmured, pulling lightly at my arm. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as my body rolled forward and pressed to his. I could feel every hard plane of his chest and stomach. I felt flushed and tense and exc
ited and terrified all at once.
A moment passed as he held my gaze. I grew self-conscious, shifting away a little, but he pulled me back. My heart skipped a beat.
“Can I just…” James trailed off, his voice quiet. “It feels good to hold you,” he went on and I just about died. Was this really happening?
“Okay,” I whispered back as he wrapped his arms tight around me. They were so solid and warm and good. One of my legs rested on top of his, just above his knee. My entire body fizzed with awareness, my ear pressed to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Was it just me, or had his pulse sped up a little?
His thumb brushed back and forth over the small of my back. Did he even realise how amazing that felt? Tiny pinpricks of desire skittered down my spine. It was a good thing I was wearing a thick, fleecy pyjama top, because my nipples could cut glass. I’d be mortified if James felt them. I closed my eyes and imagined what might happen if I pressed my mouth to his neck, dipped my tongue out, and tasted his skin. Would he push me away or let me keep going?
Unable to control the fantasy, I saw myself climbing on top of him, rubbing my wet, needy flesh against his hardness, the only barrier between us a few scraps of troublesome fabric. James’ hands would grip my backside as I ground into him. Maybe he’d even pull off my top and take one of my hard, aching nipples into his mouth…
“M?”
James’ soft, questioning voice broke through my heated thoughts, and I realised with stark horror that I’d let out a quiet moan. Oh. My. Goodness.
Embarrassment flooded me until I met his gaze and saw desire swimming in his dark irises. Oh…my…
Did he…was he…?
Time moved in slow motion when James clasped my jaw in his hand, his eyes moving back and forth between mine. “I’m going to kiss you,” he said, like he was asking permission, and I was certain I was hallucinating. His closeness had scrambled my brain. Yes, that was it.