The Feeling of Forever

by Jamie Howard

  And the way he looked at me, that sneer, that smirk, like he was looking at a nasty piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. I wanted to brush it off, let it roll down my back like it didn’t bother me one bit. But it did bother me. That one look reinforced every single loathe-filled thought that’d burned across my brain since Juliet shocked the hell out of me and asked me out on a date.

  A date I was too much of a coward on to take her anywhere.

  A date I wasn’t even sure my dick would show up to.

  A date I should’ve never gone on.

  You don’t deserve her.

  I knew it, I’d always known it. I didn’t know why I was trying to fool myself into believing that someone like her would settle for someone like me. And, hell, if I couldn’t even protect her from some drunk piece of shit with wandering hands, what the fuck was I going to do if I ever came face-to-face with her stalker? Sit here with my thumb up my ass? Call for help? What a joke. What a fucking joke.

  A soft knock sounded on the door. “Felix?”

  Her voice did things to me, gave my heart hope it never should’ve had in the first place. My head sagged; I wasn’t ready for this conversation. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the dirt and grime from the barroom floor I hadn’t been able to wash off my hands with one good scrubbing. It clung to my calluses, sinking into the lines that crisscrossed my palms.

  I’d never be able to wash any of this away.

  Another knock echoed around the small room. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” I leaned forward to turn on the faucet, the knob squeaking as I turned it. “Be right out.”

  I watched the cold water rush down the drain, counting down the seconds in my head. I gave myself thirty to get it together and arrange the words I needed to say in my mind, and turned the water back off.

  When I opened the door, Juliet was sitting on the edge of the bed. Don’t ask me why, but when I’d retreated, I’d automatically gone to one of the empty rooms rather than the main bathroom. I guess even in a rage-induced haze I knew I wanted some privacy. Now I was even gladder for it.

  “Hey,” she said, glancing up at me. Her lips hesitated on a smile, her hands folded in her lap. Her jeans and navy sweater weren’t anything special, but the sight of her still nearly took my breath away.

  My heart ached, straight up felt like it was getting squeezed in someone’s fist. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

  She blinked at me. “Sorry about . . . what?”

  “For not being able to do anything about that asshole at the bar. I should’ve—”

  “I’m a big girl, Felix. I don’t need you to defend me from some creep. Trust me, it’s not the first time someone’s gotten handsy with me. Probably won’t be the last.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “What is this?” She gestured between us. “What’s happening right now?”

  I gritted my teeth together but the words forced themselves through the cracks anyway. “This isn’t working.”

  Her eyes went wide. “You’re joking, right? You want to throw in the towel because some drunk hurled some nasty comments our way?”

  “He was right.”

  “He was—” She bit off her words with a harsh laugh. “Are you saying we shouldn’t be together because you don’t think you fucked me real good?”

  “You deserve better than this. Better than me.” My fingers dove into my hair again, raking through it.

  “And what exactly is it that you think I deserve?”

  “You deserve a guy who’s gonna want to go out with you, take you places. A guy who doesn’t have to be concerned about what drink you order because then he doesn’t have to worry how the hell he’s gonna get it back to the table.” I shook my head. “How about a guy who could dance with you if he wanted to? One who could walk down the street and hold your hand?”

  She slapped her hands against the bed. “Well hell, if that’s the problem we’ll just get you one of those motorized wheelchairs. You can press on the stick with one hand and hold my hand with the other.”

  I felt like screaming. How could she laugh this off? “That’s not the point and you know it.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought the point was that you were coming up with ridiculous reasons why us being together was a problem and I was just trying to come up with equally ridiculous responses.”

  I crossed my arms across my chest. “You deserve better and you know it.”

  She shot to her feet. “I deserve whatever the hell I want. You don’t get to decide that. Some random blogger doesn’t get to decide that. A drunk creep at the bar? He definitely doesn’t get to decide that. And neither do you.” Her teeth sunk into her lower lip, eyes glistening. “You know what I deserve, Felix? I deserve someone who cares for me. Not my money, not my name, not my celebrity. Me. I thought that person was you.”

  Four steps put her at the door. I counted each of them because every time her foot connected with the floor, a piece of my heart splintered. When the door slammed closed behind her, the whole thing disintegrated into pulverized specks.

  And holy shit did it hurt.

  Flecks of white-hot pain knifed through my body, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. I dropped my head in my hands, blinking fast to fight back the tears I knew were coming.

  I jerked when the door flew open and then slammed shut again. Juliet was practically vibrating with anger as she stared at me. “This is bullshit.” Her hands dropped down to her hips. “I don’t accept it.”

  My mouth, my tongue, my brain—none of it was cooperating.

  “Do you think I’m ashamed of you? Is that it?”

  Words finally appeared. “N—”

  “Because I’ve got what? A couple dozen pictures of us from this weekend?” Her phone showed up in her hand. “I’ll happily send them to whatever news outlet you want me to. Should I tweet it? Throw it up on Instagram? Just say the word.”

  “Jules, it’s not that.”

  “Then what is it?” she yelled. “What the hell is it? Because I don’t understand how it’s possible that I’m over here falling in love with you and you’re just”—she threw her hands up—“done.”

  My organs all threw in their pink slips at the same time—my heart stopped beating, my lungs quit breathing. This wasn’t real life. It couldn’t be. While I gaped at her, she never broke eye contact.

  She tilted her chin up. “I’m not taking it back.”

  “I didn’t ask you to.”

  “I meant it.”

  I had to look away because her words were piecing me back together, somehow rebuilding my heart that just seconds ago had been obliterated.

  I felt her sigh over every inch of my skin, and I could only watch as she walked over and knelt in front of me. Her hands, those small, pale hands, gripped mine. “I don’t care about the chair. I don’t care that the only time we can hold hands is times like these, and I’ll happily hole up with you in your apartment for every single date until you’re ready to get back out there. I have never let someone else’s opinions dictate my actions, and I’m not going to start now.” Her lips dropped to my knuckles, kissing them. “It would be really easy to give up on this now because giving up is easy. But I’m falling for you, Felix. I’m happy. This weekend was amazing. I want you. And even if you make me walk out that door right now, that’s not going to change how I feel.”

  I ran my tongue out over my parched lips. “I think I got it wrong.” I squeezed her fingers. “I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve you.”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “The way I see it, we’ve got two choices.”

  “Just two?”

  “Mhmm.” Her smile was back, and I decided right then and there I never wanted to be the reason there was ever anything else on her face. “So, would you rather fight about this some more or just admit that I’m right and get onto the making up?”

  I answered with a long, thorough kiss that said more than my muddled brai
n would ever be able to come up with at that moment. Maybe I was selfish for staying with her when I knew things could get ugly and I wouldn’t be able to protect her. But maybe, just maybe, I was exactly what she needed too.

  “Okay, so that leads me to question two.” She stood and started walking backward until the backs of her knees hit the bed. “Would you rather head back to the living room or sleep in here tonight?”

  Like that was an actual question. “I think we’ve spent enough time bonding with everyone else. Besides, with us out of the equation, no one will have to sleep in the recliner.”

  She laughed as she scooted back across the bed. “You’re so selfless.”

  My ass hit the mattress and I rolled over, pinning her beneath me. “It’s my turn to ask a question.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?”

  My smile mirrored hers. “Would you like me to tell you I’m falling for you now or later?”

  “How about you tell me now”—she locked her fingers around my neck and drew me down to her lips—“and then remind me again later.”

  Chapter 20: Juliet

  My sneakers slammed against the treadmill, my muscles working overtime. Sweat trickled down my back and soaked through my shirt until it was sticking to me everywhere. The floor-to-ceiling windows let me look straight out onto the ocean, to the dark and stormy curl of the waves. A tiny red flag strained against its tether, its rope snapping against the pole so violently I could hear the sound from here. The clouds were so full it seemed any minute their distended bellies would brush across the water.

  It’d been three weeks since I said good-bye to Felix at the airport. Three weeks of sporadic communication. Three blessed weeks of silence from my stalker. Three weeks of living in a state of perpetual jetlag. And three damn weeks of a schedule so jam-packed I actually had to put sleep on the calendar.

  Although it was pretty damn hard to sleep when your body was still functioning in a different time zone. Hence the early morning workout. I pumped up the incline and pushed myself a little harder.

  My phone buzzed from its perch front and center on the treadmill.

  Scooping it up, I hopped off the treadmill and pulled up my new text.

  Felix: Good morning, beautiful. Miss you.

  We’d been trading texts for days now, just missing each other with our busy schedules. I’d had to send a handful of Sorry, just got off my plane and Sorry, I was in the middle of an interview. All in all, I was really starting to hate the word sorry.

  Instead of typing up a response, I called him, plopping my butt down onto the carpet to stretch. Scratchy navy fibers brushed against the backs of my calves as I leaned over to grab my right toe.

  “Hey!” Felix’s voice broke across the line. “I’m surprised you’re up.”

  “Who sleeps anymore?” I switched to the other leg.

  He sighed, but let it go. “So, where are you now?”

  “Alabama.”

  There’s a ding on his end, possibly a toaster. Or a timer. “Is that for the Maybelline commercial?”

  I pressed my heels together in a butterfly stretch. “The Lancôme shoot.”

  “Right. Then where to?”

  “Back to LA.” If you plotted my recent trips on a map, it’d look like a kindergartner scribbled all over the country without any rhyme or reason. We’d been hopping from coast to coast, back and forth in an indiscriminate zig-zag. I wanted to blame Ally for the poor scheduling, but it was really my own fault—taking time off had made this month a giant clusterfuck.

  Something crunched and I could tell he was chewing. “So, have you, uh, been paying much attention to the news lately?”

  My first instinct would’ve been panic if it weren’t for the way I could actually hear him smiling. I ran a hand over my face, shaking my head. “What did I miss?”

  “Our issue of Celeb! hit the stands.”

  The first raindrops splattered against the window as I frowned. “And?”

  “And it’s caused quite a bit of speculation.” He laughed, and the tension in my chest eased at the sound of it. We’d left things on good terms, but with all the distance and the way our last night had gone, a part of me worried whether things were as good with us as I thought they were.

  My eyes narrowed. “About us, you mean?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean. So don’t be surprised if it crops up in one of your interviews.”

  My gaze was still stuck on those raindrops, watching as they lashed against the window. “And when it does, what should I tell them?”

  Lightning streaked across the sky as I waited for him to answer, my hope surging and waning with every second. He cleared his throat. “I think . . . we should let it out of the bag.”

  I couldn’t hold back my grin, even though I knew he couldn’t see it. “Really?”

  He sighed. “I’m just tired of all the hiding.”

  I barely stopped myself from saying “really” again, because holy crap, really? Even if he only meant going public about us, it was still a huge step forward. And even though the question was basically trying to prison-break its way out of my mouth, I held back asking him just how much he was getting tired of hiding and instead asked him, “So, do you have a plan? Do you want me to have my PR team work on something?”

  “We could always do it the simple way?”

  “PDA?”

  He groaned. “You’re not allowed to talk about PDA when I don’t get to see you for another”—he paused—“eleven days. That’s just mean, Jules. Don’t you care at all about my pickle?”

  I blew out an amused breath and crossed my legs, my voice getting unconsciously deeper. “Oh, you know I do.”

  “Jules.”

  “Felix.”

  Another groan. “Great, now I’m rocking a boner in my kitchen.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to where Vince’s back filled out the glass door, shoulder-to-shoulder. The hotel gym was mine to monopolize for as long as I wanted. I ran my tongue out over my lips. “Well, what are you going to do about it?”

  His voice was nothing more than a husky whisper. “You wanna hear about it, Jules? How hard I am for you? How just my name on your lips makes me ache for you?”

  A shiver slowly rippled through my body, my nipples hardening beneath the soft fabric of my sports bra. “I wish I could do more than just hear about it, Felix.”

  This time his response was almost a growl. “Yeah, and what do you wish you could do?”

  My heart hammered in my chest and I bit my lip, sneaking another glance at the door. I was probably safe in here, but I could never be too careful. “What would you want me to do? Would you want my mouth first?”

  “Fuck, yeah,” he murmured. “Those pretty lips swallowing up my cock, your tongue, licking, teasing. I’d wrap my fingers through that silky hair of yours, letting you know just how I want it.”

  I thumped my head back against the wall, my skin practically on fire. “And how do you want it?”

  “Gentle first, then rough because that’s how you make me—desperate. Like I can never get enough. You’d get me there quick, that tingling sensation starting at the base of my spine, but I wouldn’t come. Not yet. Not until I was inside you.”

  My only response was a stifled moan as a zing of want throbbed through me.

  “I’d suck on those beautiful pink nipples first, my fingers rubbing just where you need me, before slowly sinking inside of you. All that hot, wet heat clamping around me like fucking heaven. I’d want to take my time with you, savor every second, but I’d already be on the edge.” His breath panted over the line. “You’d moan for me, loud, your fingernails digging into my shoulders, your lips practically bruising mine. I wouldn’t be able to help myself, I’d glance down and watch as I disappeared inside you—”

  “Felix.”

  “Shit, oh shit.” He gasped and I would have given anything to have been there in that moment. To see that hazy, sexy look in his eyes as he lost himself. To, at a very minimum,
have been back in my hotel room so I wasn’t a quivering horny mess right now.

  When his voice sounded again, he was breathing hard, and he wasn’t the only one. “Eleven days is too long.”

  “Eleven days is an eternity.” I ran a hand over my hair, still damp with sweat. “But at least now I’ll have a lovely visual to keep me company in the shower.”

  Chapter 21: Felix

  I was ceiling-gazing again while Marge worked her magic on my legs. I could see the frazzled tips of her hair out of the corner of my eye as I kept my lips pursed, staring straight ahead. Mentally, I was doing my counting thing, but this time for an entirely different reason.

  Three more reps before I could exhale all this anxiety.

  Two more reps until all these words circling my head like vultures could find a way out.

  One more rep and I’d be taking my first genuine step forward since my accident.

  Step.

  I snorted at the word, out loud, and Marge paused with my knee bent toward my chest, her eyebrows snapping together in suspicion. I bit my tongue, the inside of my cheek, my lips, but my body still shook in silent laughter. It wasn’t that funny, but the fact that pretty soon I’d be able to use the word “step” not only metaphorically but literally too was making me goddamn giddy.

  Marge brushed her hands together. “All right, spill.”

  I blinked at her innocently as I levered myself up. “What are you talking about?”

  She waved a hand at my face. “I know that look. It’s the same look my son gets when he swaps the salt for the sugar, or manages to wrangle up frogs and leave them in his little sister’s bed. You’re up to something.”

  I folded my hands in my lap, sucking in a deep breath. Her eyes watched me cautiously, but there wasn’t a small twitch to give away what she was thinking. “I’m ready to hear more about those support groups you’ve been telling me about. Sorry, harassing me about.” I flashed her a smile. “Something online would be good.”