Overexposed

by Amelia Oliver

  “Seth!” Piper is standing in front of me and looks gobsmacked, but it has to be noted, not necessarily angry. Interesting…

  “Yes, that’s the one, Knightsbridge. Jackie, my housekeeper, will be there until around seven and then she’ll be coming in here to bring us something decent to eat. Thanks, yes, Doc’s say tomorrow. Can’t wait to get out of this fucking place, but it’s been made all the more tolerable in the last twenty minutes that’s for sure. Right, will do. I’ll hand you back to Piper, cheers.”

  Passing the mobile to Piper, I announce, “All sorted, love,” and drop a quick peck against the corner of her lips. Tempted to do way more, like smelling the skin of her neck, or leave an open mouthed kiss under her ear, I force myself to move away.

  Piper huffs then mutters, something-something, “high-handed, cocky asshole”, something-something, and resumes talking to Drew.

  Back over to the chair where she’s dumped her shite, I put Piper’s workbag on the rolling tray table, and position it so she has a makeshift desk of sorts. Happy with that, I ignore the feeling of her drilling holes into my head with her eyes and pick up her other bag, putting it in the cupboard next to where my things are.

  I’m knackered from the activity, and am climbing back onto the bed when Piper looms over me from above.

  “Jesus, you’re infuriating!” she yells.

  “Sorry, love, but I refuse to allow you to stay at a hotel––”

  “How can you be so nice to me!” she adds in a louder tone and cutting me off.

  “What the bloody fuck?”

  I see her eyes well-up once more, but her jaw is flexing as she looks at me expectantly.

  “I don’t know how you mean?”

  “I left you. I left you because I didn’t believe you. We didn’t resolve anything, I mean, you left the country for fuck sake, Seth!”

  I stand and step closer, shaking my head. Because whatever wrong she thinks she did, I did too. I’m just as guilty as she is in not working things out. In fact, I think I take the fucking cake with exporting myself without a bloody word.

  She’s gorgeous when she’s pissed, but she’s fucking stunning when I’m the object of her ire, but seeing her like this, I can’t do it. The mere sight of her like this guts me. Her cheeks are rosy, the corner of her lips look trembly, she looks so fucking sad, so burdened. I felt that too, all this time we’ve been apart, but seeing her here, knowing she’s here, has erased all that shite.

  “That was a work call you just commandeered like it was your God given right! I don’t even know where to start with you, Seth! Don’t call me Bubble to my boss’s assistant, and really don’t talk to him about my underwear! The word is luggage! More specifically, Piper’s luggage! And the other thing, not only must I have blacked out and missed the part where you invited me to stay at your place, I damn well know I never said I would!”

  Piper finishes her tirade on a feminine growl, her tits jiggling with the rise and fall of her chest. I have to really concentrate on keeping my eyes on her face, and not reaching up to palm one.

  She shakes her head as I draw closer, before she too steps back and puts a hand out for me to stop. Fuck.

  Giving her space, I ease back onto the bed and settle against the pillows. I wince as I find a comfy position, adding a bit more drama to my reaction to see if I can glean sympathy like before. When Piper only rolls her eyes I know she hasn’t bought into it for a second. Shrugging I give her the nonverbal, oh well, it was worth a shot.

  Ok, direct approach.

  I reach out for her hand like coaxing a wild cat, and I patiently hold it extended until she knows she can take it. When she steps closer, then closer, I feel my heart quicken, knowing my girl is scared and I wonder if her whole flight here she worried I’d what? Curse her out? Kick her out? The thought of me doing that, or knowing she feared the rejection or the shame for what happened makes me want to hold her and love her. When she finally slides her hand into mine, I kiss the top and hold it to my chest.

  “We were both mad Piper, but I don’t hold anything against you. But we can talk about that later. You said you have a lot to get caught up on, and I was just trying to make things easier with not having to find a place to stay. Noted with the personal shite, love, that’s on me, sorry, won’t happen again. And, now that I reflect on it, I’m not that fucking thrilled with this Drew bloke thinking about your knickers anymore than you are.”

  Although the man does work as an assistant, so could be he bats for his own team, and if not, in my head at least, he does now.

  “And of course you’re invited to stay in my home, I wouldn’t have it any other way. After all, I’m the wanker who crashed his car, which meant you had to drag your incredibly sexy arse all the way to London. Please, Piper, just let me do that much. Everything else, everything, is your call.”

  Piper blinks, her thumb running over the flesh of her bottom lip. “Ugh, Seth…honestly, I want too. But there’s so much with us that we haven’t talked about and I just don’t want to jump right back to where we were as though none of it mattered. It mattered. Seth. To both of us.”

  “I agree completely, love, it mattered very much. You matter, Piper. But like you said before, you have a lot to get organised, and all I’m asking is that you do that here, with me, for a while, and then at my place later. I’m not asking for anything el––”

  “Lunch, Mr. Mitchell! Oh, hello there, darlings, sorry to barge in and all that. Where would you like your tray, sir?”

  Having now entered the room, both Piper and I look to the hair-netted kitchen lady standing at the end of my bed, said tray held aloft in question.

  “Umm, sorry, I’m using Mr. Mitchell’s tray table as a desk. Would you set it on the end of his bed, please?” Piper answers and tapping her fingers lightly against me, pulls her hand out from under mine, then moves to sit in the chair and begins setting up her laptop. The tightness that had formed in my chest when shit got real eases, and I know that for now at least, Piper is staying. I’ll take hour by hour if I have to.

  “All right, love, can do.” Putting my lunch tray down, the food lady adds, “Back in a bit with a cuppa and a biscuit. Not s’posed to feed anyone but the patient, but given you’re pullin’ double duty with both visitin’ and workin’, I’ll sneak in a few extras, hey?”

  As soon as the door shuts and Piper and I are alone again, I pull the tray closer to me. Piper’s fingers are clacking furiously on her keyboard, while I lift the lids on the assorted sized cloches covering the food. Yep, definitely getting Jackie to bring something in later.

  “Pfff, why does hospital food smell like that?” Piper asks, her nose twitching, but not looking up from her screen.

  “Don’t know, love, but if it’s going to take me out, you’re coming with me. I’m splitting this with you.”

  “Hmph, and they say chivalry is dead.”

  * * *

  If you’d asked me at the beginning of today how I thought my night would end, I could have only wished for it to be as perfect as this.

  Having split the dodgy contents of my lunch tray, Piper ate the soup and the fresh apple, while I had a few bites of the mash and peas, and we’d shared the vanilla custard. However flavourless it was, it was fuel and we both needed it. That said we’d both avoided the unidentifiable grey lump covered in gravy.

  Piper worked solidly, mostly on getting shite sorted with my mess, but a couple of her other clients, too, I think. When I didn’t drop off for a short kip, I was content to just watch her. Nurses came and went, prodding and poking all the while, but things must have been ok since the doctor came and confirmed that unless there was a change overnight, I’d be released tomorrow.

  Around five or so, and determined to hang with me until Jackie came in so she could go home with her, Piper had started to wilt before my eyes. Jet lag can be a bitch, and no matter what proven methods a person has to avoid it, it catches up eventually. And Piper was not only jet lagged, she was mentally knac
kered given all she’d dealt with since getting here.

  With little cajoling, when she’d made the offhanded remark about having comfy clothes in the tote I’d put away; I’d talked Piper into taking a shower. While she was in there, I’d packed up her work things, and pulled the chair closer to the bed. Sitting in it myself, I’d given her no other option but to take the bed for a while. When she emerged from the bathroom, her face flushed and dewy from the warmth of the shower, the last thing I’d expected to see was her covered head to toe in my clothing. You don’t think that sight had me wanting to crow like a fucking rooster? Only on the inside of course, because the look on Piper’s face had been a challenge, silently daring me to say something. I’d known just with the one long and mulish look, she was prepared to come back at me hard with any comment I had, and so, I said nothing. I think she’d been disappointed which had made me chortle, until I was served with another look. My balls are still shrivelled.

  Again, with very little fuss, and the promise that I’d wake her if she fell asleep any longer than an hour, Piper climbed up onto the bed and we’d watched telly together. Not surprisingly, her breathing evened out in minutes, and after turning to her side, she was now fast asleep.

  I had no bloody intention of waking her after an hour, in fact had crept out into the hall and found a nurse. Trying not to be too much of an arsehole, but only getting objections and rules and regulations repeated back to me, I ended up having to throw my celebrity weight around. Also, open my wallet. Having promised Nurse Betty five hundred quid to toe the line, I’d then told her in graphic terms exactly what I would do to anyone who came into my room, and that unless the building was on fire or I pressed my bell, I didn’t want to see any member of the hospital staff until morning.

  That done, I’d then texted Jacks and told her that Piper was sleeping, and not to worry about coming in. She’d wanted to anyway, mostly so she could give me the food for us to eat later, but we’d compromised by agreeing that a big fry up at home in the morning would be better all round anyway. She’d also told me that the airline had located Piper’s luggage, and that it should be at mine first thing tomorrow.

  Feeling like I’d done my best to let my girl get a decent sleep, I sat and watched her, my eyes hungry to take in every little thing about her I’d missed. Like the way her long lashes rested against the top of the apple of her cheeks, or the few tiny freckles she had sprinkled across her nose, ones you could only see when her face was bare of makeup. Call me weak, call me selfish, call me whatever you bloody well like, because I really don’t give a dogs bollocks. But with no inclination to resist any longer, I’d gingerly climbed up on to the bed. Ignoring any niggling pain or protest in my body, after six excruciatingly long weeks apart, I’d finally held my girl.

  Without a shift in the rhythm of her breathing, Piper snuggled right back in to me, wiggling until there was as much contact between our bodies as our situation allowed.

  Kissing the back of her head, I breathe her in. Through bruised ribs, black eyes and a cut lip, I breathe her in. Closing my eyes I tell myself that despite the accident, despite headlining a production that still has me feeling…something. Despite the renewed paparazzi attention, and despite the sense that I’m missing something big about all of it, that in this moment, none of it truly matters. As in this moment, with my girl sleeping in my arms, all is right in my world. Oh, and while I might not be able to do anything about it for a few days, it has to be said, I’m also more than a little relieved to find that it turns out, the hospital hadn’t caused any damage to my dick.

  CHAPTER 21

  Piper

  Less than twenty-four hours in London, and I’d woken up in Seth’s arms. Insert mental palm to the head here. It was like I had no resistance to the man. At first his presence had comforted me. From the clean spiciness of his deodorant to the much more muscled than I remembered arm across my body, I’d let myself wake slowly. Savoring all the things I had missed - which if I’m honest had included the heavy granite length against my butt – it was the unwelcome thought that we’d not yet solved anything between us, that had made me get up. That and the fact I could feel my pussy was warm and wet between my thighs, my body conditioned to anticipate sex with him when we woke.

  Stretching as my sock covered feet hit the floor; I’d been taken aback at the amount of daylight filtering into his room, and when I’d looked to the giant clock on the wall, found that it was nearly six a.m. Incredulous, I’d looked back towards the bed to find I was being watched, so gave the sneaky bastard my best ‘what the fuck didn’t you understand about waking me after an hour’ look. Of course seeing Seth’s sleep soft face and hearing his deep morning accented voice reply with, “What? Does it matter, love, you slept didn’t you?” had only left me feeling torn between either slapping or kissing the shit out of him.

  I hadn’t fully decided where I was going to stay while I was here, which is why I’d wanted to be awake and ready to leave with Jackie last night. Seemed redundant after spending the night with him in his hospital bed to check into a hotel today, so I’d resigned myself to staying at his place. Assuming he had the room. Naturally, having rented a fully furnished, four bed, three and a half bath terraced house, the infuriatingly sexy man did.

  Having showered and redressed in the only clothes I had, sans underwear because, eew, I’d started my day while waiting for Seth to be discharged. Ronald had issued cease and desist notices to the two particularly libellous online gossip magazines that I’d determined needed immediate attention, one of which had already retracted their story. I’d gotten several email replies from Westbrook Theatre, including one from Alistair Westbrook himself, all assuring me that they were happy to work with the media strategy I’d created in regards to the accident. Seth was planning to go in on Thursday morning for a light run through of a few scenes to test where he was at, so I’d go in with him and meet the publicity team in person. In the meantime, I was able to handle everything else via laptop and phone.

  Later when going to find coffee, I’d learned from one of the nurses outside his room, Seth had had a mini shit-fit the night before. Which explained why, along with the Ambien and wine combo that never really worked on the plane, I’d slept so soundly. Thankfully while chatting away happily, she had indirectly assured me the few staff that knew about his rant had thought it romantic. And unbeknownst to Seth, the five hundred pounds he’d paid the night shift nurse was being used to buy a heap of new plush toys for the paediatric ward.

  While they may have thought Seth was sweet or whatever, I still hadn’t decided. Something I was grateful for when I’d also learned Seth had cancelled Jackie’s visit, seemingly yet another tactic to thwart my escape.

  Having arranged a private car service, Seth and I are now leaving the hospital via the secluded entrance and we’re headed to Knightsbridge. As the black Mercedes Benz S Class turns, making the front of the hospital visible, several stealth paparazzi rush from behind hedges, cameras flashing repeatedly, their shouts heard through the dark tinted windows.

  “Christ! Haven’t they got anything better to do?” Seth gripes from beside me. Having closed his eyes and dropped his head onto my shoulder as soon as the driver had shut our door, I think they startled him. “Definitely not that then,” he murmurs.

  “What’s not that then?” I ask.

  Lifting his head to look at me, our legs may be touching and our upper bodies naturally turned towards each other, but what I see in his eyes is uncertainty and…distance?

  “Nothing, love,” he says. His tone is soft regardless of his words feeling dismissive, until he adds, “Just sorting out shite in my head, that’s all.”

  I know Seth is in more pain than he’s letting on, but he’s also being stubborn and refusing to take anything heavier than anti-inflammatories. I’d taken the prescription for oxycodone the hospital dispensed for him regardless, knowing that he may be grateful for it after physio or his first day back at the theatre. I know part of his c
oncern is he recognises with his addictive personality, the pills represent a slippery slope. Along with the change of having cut his hair – it’s now clipped short at the back, but still messy and longish on top – Seth’s body is more defined. Not so much leaner, but fitter, and while I haven’t seen him naked to confirm I’m right, I have felt him, and my mouth waters thinking about it. Anyway, all of this leads me to believe that Seth’s lifestyle since moving back here has been a much healthier one.

  The Cromwell Hospital in South Kensington is only minutes from Seth’s, so before too long we’re pulling into his concealed garage. I have Seth wait with me inside the car while the roller door closes behind us and the driver drops our bags just inside the mudroom door. Once we’re concealed from the intruding lenses on his street, Seth cautiously shifts out of the car and holds his hand out to help me. Scooting across the leather bench seat, the soft fabric of my skirt rides up, and as my knees spread to drop a foot to the garage floor, I unintentionally treat Seth to a glimpse.

  I hear his sharp intake of breath before he curses softly, “Bloody…fuck.”

  Using the hand I’ve given him to pull me into his body, he keeps our clasped hands between us, and possessively grips my ass with his other. Lust blown pupils dominate in his rich brown eyes as his warm and minty breath precedes his lewd words against my ear, “Looks like I’m not the only one who had a hair cut, Bubble.”

  I’m too busy trying to not grind against him to tell him that my last waxing appointment had fallen on a day I was livid at him, so knowing how much he’d loved the neat triangle, I’d spontaneously opted for a full Brazilian out of, I don’t know, spite I guess?

  The driver clears his throat, making Seth groan and me snicker before he leads me into the house. Still holding my hand, we wait in what also looks to be the laundry room as the driver leaves the garage, and the door closes fully again behind him.