High Risk Love

by Shannon Mayer

  As the scene prepped, I made my way next to Rodney where I was well out of the camera’s way. Rodney assured me Elise was tucked away in a mental institute, and her family was on their way to take her home.

  “That’s so sad,” I said. “To be so confused by everything around you, to not be able to live in reality. She must have been scared a lot of the time, I bet.”

  The young director shrugged. “Lots of crazies in this business, you’ll see that the longer you’re here. Beauty and crazy often go together. Present company excluded, of course.” Rodney tapped his fingers on the edge of his chair. “So you and Jet are an item now?”

  “Oh, no. Just friends,” I said, lifting my camera to get a shot of the scene behind the scene.

  “That’s good. You and me, dinner, tonight at eight. I’ll send a limo to pick you up at your hotel. And wear something sexy, none of this low key stuff you’ve been wearing around here.”

  Before I could answer, he got out of his chair and strode across the set, barking an order at Reggie and another member of the stunt crew.

  What the hell was that? Did he really just say what I think he did? Crap, I was going to have to nip this in the bud. I strode after Rodney, catching up to him just as Hugh and Jet joined the small group of men.

  “Excuse me, Rodney.” I tapped him on the shoulder.

  “I’m working here, baby.”

  Stunned surprise turned into a full on belly laugh. “You did not just call me baby, did you?”

  Jet’s brows dropped dangerously low over his eyes, but it was the stillness of the crowd that should have warned me to ease off.

  I moved to stand in front of Rodney, my back to Jet. “You’d better get something very clear in your head. You did not ask me to dinner, you ordered me. Neither of which will get you the pleasure of my company. Ever. And if that’s the way you treat and talk to women, I can see clearly why you’re single.” I paused. “And if that wasn’t clear enough, let me make sure you understand. I’m not going to dinner with you.”

  His face slowly tightened, jaw twitching. “Get off my set, you snotty little bitch.”

  “Gladly.” I spun on my heel. A slow steady clap began from behind me, and in a matter of moments the whole crew was clapping and cheering. Good grief, I’d caused a rebellion.

  “You apologize to her, right now.” Jet’s voice carried to me and I turned around, my mouth dropping open.

  Jet had Rodney by the collar and was holding him a good foot off the ground.

  “I said, apologize to her.”

  Rodney spit at Jet. “You will never get a job again.”

  “APOLOGIZE!”

  The crowd went even more still, the group stepping back with some unspoken understanding that it was about to get ugly. I ran back, camera cradled tight against me, and put a hand on Jet’s arm, feeling his muscles shake from holding Rodney up, almost to his eye level. “Just breathe. He’s a prick, that isn’t something I haven’t dealt with before.”

  With a huff, Jet dropped Rodney and the director sprawled out on the ground, rolling to one side in order to get up.

  “Never, you will NEVER work in this business again.”

  Hugh laughed. “Untwist your pantyhose, man.”

  Rodney spluttered. And Jet just glared at him.

  The young director stormed past me off the set, his face a violent shade of red fading into purple around his neck.

  I grimaced as Jet and Hugh stepped up beside me. I tried to catch Jet’s eye, but he avoided looking directly at me, a cocky, fake grin plastered on his face.

  Hugh lifted me off the ground and set me on his shoulder.

  “I told you you’d fit in here.” I glanced at Jet who just shook his head, but still wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  “Okay, put me down, Hugh.” He did as I asked, giving me a hug once I was down.

  “You know, the offer still stands.” He hadn’t let me go yet, and was staring down at me.

  “What are you talking about?” I pushed on his chest, and again, caught just a glimpse of Jet’s suddenly jealous eyes.

  “If Jet doesn’t work out, I don’t mind taking you on.” He winked at me and I just shook my head.

  “Stop it, I’m not . . . you are seriously so far off course you wouldn’t even get a consolation prize.” I snorted at him, but made sure to walk just a little closer to Jet than to Hugh.

  Walking between the two of them, bumping into Jet as we went, a thought occurred to me. “Can Rodney do that, can he blacklist you from the industry?”

  Jet touched my arm, fingers curling possessively around my wrist, and then sliding down to lace his fingers with mine. “No. He’s newer in the industry even than us, and we’ve got Reggie on our side. But us being cut like that gives us more time to play for your last few days here.”

  “Are you sure? I can suck it up and apologize to Rodney. Heck, if it means you get your jobs back I can even go for dinner, if you think he would go for it.”

  They were both waving at me to stop. Jet spoke first. “Getting cut is getting cut. Besides, he’s an idiot to work for. Now, let’s go get something to eat.”

  We went back to that same cafe, the one with the big sombrero, The Tortilla Shell. The two of them cajoled and prodded me until I succumbed and had my first shot of tequila. I told myself I was off the job, not actually taking pictures, so it didn’t count as being unprofessional. The sharp burn of the liquor seared my throat and made my eyes water. When they tried to get me to drink another, I waved them off.

  “One is quite enough, I think.” Even with just the one, I could feel the looseness in my body, the tight nerves unraveling a little.

  Tina strode by at one point and Jet made a show of slinging his arms around my neck and throwing himself into my lap.

  “Save me from the red-headed witch!” he screeched in a falsetto that made me want to slap my hands over my ears. But I couldn’t because I was hanging onto him and laughing so hard we almost fell over. Hugh decided to add to the pile after Tina sniffed and glanced in his direction, a wicked smile curving her perfect Botox lips as she eyed him up and down.

  “Me too,” Hugh said, “she’s after me next!”

  “No, Hugh! You’ll squash me, you’ll break the chair . . .” I yelped too late; he straddled me and Jet and the chair beneath us groaned.

  “Off, get off!” I laughed. God, I wished Lily was here, wished she could feel this light and happy too. She needed someone to make her smile, to make her laugh and learn to live again.

  Hugh gave me a lecherous grin and a wink, his hips suddenly shifting back and forth. “I’m trying baby, I’m trying to get off.”

  The other patrons were laughing and pointing at our antics and finally the owner came to shoo us out, but then, as we went to pay he said the meal was on him.

  “You good for business. Funny boys make people laugh and then they want to eat here more. Come back anytime.”

  On the sidewalk, Hugh saluted me. “Have fun surfing tonight.”

  “You aren’t coming too?” I asked.

  “Wasn’t invited.” He pouted and then gave me a quick hug, whispering in my ear. “Do me a favor. Don’t break his heart. He’s hell to live with as it is.” Then he gave me a quick peck on the cheek, swatting my ass as he scooted by me. I squawked and spun to throw a mock swing at him but he was already dancing out of my range.

  “I’ll get Hugh for that, if it’s the last thing I do!” I called after him. Jet laughed at my terrible pun, and Hugh’s groaning was audible even with the distance he’d put between us.

  Jet took my hand and led me back toward the ocean. “That was awful.”

  “I actually thought it was pretty clever.”

  The light faded as we walked hand in hand to the waterfront. There were two surfboards jammed into the sand, apparently waiting for us. How had he planned this? “You ready?”

  “There aren’t even any waves,” I said, though I wasn’t really complaining. Jet stepped so close to me our noses t
ouched.

  “We can just paddle about. Practice standing up.”

  The sun dipped below the water and we stood in that shadowed dusk, looking at each other, drowning before we ever set foot in the ocean. I wanted to wrap myself in his arms, feel his heart beat against mine, to know that he was with me forever, and not just for this moment.

  His hands slid up my arms, eyes never leaving mine. “I really want to break my promise right now.”

  So close, so very close. He circled me with his arms, tightening his hold on more than my limbs, our bodies flush against one another. I draped my arms over his shoulders, touched the back of his head, ran my fingers through his hair. God, he smelled good, a clean woodsy scent but something else, a spice I couldn’t quite put my nose on. I breathed deep, not caring what it was, only knowing I wanted more of it. Of him.

  I lifted my eyes. “Are we going in?”

  He let me go, slowly, reluctantly, and then stripped down to his swim trunks. I peeled out of my clothes and folded them on top of each other, tucking my camera under them, and then grabbed the second board. The weight of it threw me off balance and I caught myself as I started to tip over, but it forced me to lower it so I could readjust my grip.

  Looking up, my breath caught. The light from the sun was almost completely gone, only the faintest hint of pink, purple, and orange kissed the horizon. I took a moment to admire the view, to breathe it all and appreciate it for what it was, a moment of beauty that would be gone too soon.

  By the time I’d taken it in, Jet sat on his surfboard, floating in the water, legs dangling to either side. Again, I lowered the board to the sand and picked my camera up, snapping three shots of him. This was a moment I didn’t want to forget, didn’t want to ever lose somewhere over time as my memories faded and our lives went in different directions.

  “You coming in, Spitfire?”

  This time when I picked up the board, I was ready for the awkward weight. Water swirled around my ankles, warm on my skin, drawing me in.

  Paddling out to Jet, we floated side by side, watching in silence as the sky darkened and stars appeared one by one, diamonds flashing into existence. Only visible because of the darkness around them . . . .

  Be that brightness, Jazzy. In a world so dark, don’t let your light fade. Don’t let fear rule you. You are his light, and maybe, just maybe he is yours. Dreams are meant to be chased . . . .

  Even now, Ryan was right. Fear was so dark, so ugly and controlling. For too long, I’d let it rule me, but could I change now? I wasn’t sure I could do it. I glanced over at Jet, took in his profile, the shape of his face in the dusky light.

  No time like the present to try though. I slid off my board and into the water, and swam the few feet to Jet and his board.

  “Jasmin?”

  I didn’t answer him, just shimmied up and onto the board—or at least I tried to. My awkward attempt to climb on tipped us both into the water, Jet yelping as the board flipped. Laughing, he swam around to my side.

  “Here, you first,” Jet said, his hands around my waist, helping me up. I straddled the board, found my balance. There was a sluice of water behind me and then Jet was on the board too. I scooted backwards so our bodies touched, then reached around to him.

  “Hold me, please,” I said, my voice trembling. Fear, I was afraid of this, but I would try this time to hold it at bay. And maybe in Jet’s arms I could.

  10

  Jet

  I slipped my arms around her, not saying a word, feeling the shift between us. One arm went around her shoulders and across her collarbone, the other around her waist, where I could feel the hitch of her breathing. Her fingers trailed along my skin, pressure as light and unreal as a dream on the edge of waking.

  Now the barrier she’d held onto as if her life depended on it fell, the fear dissipating on the ocean current. And maybe in a way the barrier had kept her safe. How long had she clung to her fears, how long had she known nothing but pain when it came to being close to someone?

  And your fears, the ones you let rule you? You think those are any better?

  I closed my eyes and put my chin on her shoulder, breathing her in, knowing I was a shit for using her. Because that’s what I was doing. With her, I was whole, complete, the guilt and anger from my past gone in the moments she touched me, smiled my way, when her laugh filled my ears. With her, I was for the first time in my life the person I wanted to be. It wouldn’t last though, this sort of stuff never did. Something would happen; I would fuck it up. She would turn out to be just like all the other women. Something would go wrong. But for now . . . .

  We talked in hushed whispers as we held each other on that board, talking about everything and nothing. She spoke of Ryan, all the stories she hadn’t spoken of since his death, of her friend Lily and how close they were. She told me about how, as much as she loved photography, it was the piano that had always been her dream, her singing.

  “You play?”

  She nodded, the angle of her face showing me just the curve of her smile. “Yes, it feels like I fit when I play. I don’t know if that makes sense.” She laughed softly.

  “It does. When I’m working a stunt, the world narrows down to just me and the steps. Like a dance.” I snapped my teeth shut, feeling stupid. Those words had slipped out of me and I hadn’t caught them in time.

  “Yes, that’s it exactly. Like a dance. The music, when I played, wove around me and everything seemed good.”

  “You say that like you don’t play anymore,” I said, turning her face to mine, so I could see her eyes.

  “I don’t.” She whispered her secret to me. “I hear my family beside me, singing, playing. It’s too much. It hurts too much.”

  Her lips trembled and I kissed her lightly, not demanding, not taking; but giving her everything I had. She lifted a hand, touched my face softly.

  “Thank you.”

  We went silent for a while after that, then out of the blue I told her about my mother, how Jasmin reminded me of her, the quiet strength, the softness with a core of steel. Once I started, I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to share everything with her, and pray it was enough. I spoke about Jasper, avoiding the past, telling her about the stunts we’d pulled, the pranks on Hugh. Our laughter echoed out across the water, the lights from the city behind us left me feeling like we were in our own world.

  The moon rose high, and we paddled back to shore. We hadn’t been drinking, but we both wobbled as we walked toward her hotel, arms slung around each other. Every moment with her counted, and the more time we spent together, the more I knew I couldn’t lose her.

  Which scared the shit out of me.

  Fear Nothing. Yeah, not so much now.

  I couldn’t go back to pretending I was happy, pretending that the way my life was before Jasmin had been good.

  But I couldn’t do this either. I was a screw up, always had been; that wouldn’t change because of her. Maybe for a day or two, a week at best. Ultimately, I wouldn’t be enough for her and then whatever good we had together would be gone.

  We walked up the stairs to her room, but she stopped us on one of the lower landings. “You know, when I first met you, on the stairs . . . .”

  “I’ll never forget it. You stunned me.”

  She laughed and slid her arms around my waist, tugging me close. “That’s only because I twisted your ear.”

  “No, it’s because I knew even then that you were special. You were . . . .” I struggled to find the words, but she knew them.

  “The light in the darkness.” She whispered it and the air between us disappeared, her lips finding mine with an urgency she’d only hinted at before. I took her mouth, took what she so freely offered, the promise forgotten in the warmth of her skin. My fear was forgotten in the taste of her mouth. I delved her lips, tasted her sweet, soft moans as they curled up her throat and vibrated against my tongue. A growl escaped me and her eyes popped open, wide, dilated with desire.

  I let her see t
hat same desire reflected in my eyes, see the hunger there for more than just her body. For her, for everything she was willing to give me, as long as she would have me.

  I was hers, burned by green fire, marked as clearly as if she’d branded me.

  “I’m yours.” The words spoken against her lips, I hadn’t meant to say them out loud and I froze, afraid of what she would say. That it was just a joke, a tease? God, let her not have heard me, let her mind and ears be fuzzy with lust and . . . .

  Her fingers cupped my face, and her eyes shone with moisture and a trace of fear. “I’m still afraid, but . . . I don’t want to walk away, not now.”

  “Your job . . . ?”

  I saw the struggle in her, the need to do the right thing, not the thing that felt right. And oh, god, this felt so damn right.

  I stepped back, untangled my arms and body from hers. “It’s okay. I don’t want you to regret anything.”

  She frowned, eyes darkening. “Neither do I.”

  There was no way I could walk away if this went any further, so I turned to go. But her voice called me back.

  “Jet, don’t leave. Please stay with me. Tonight. Even if it’s just for tonight.”

  My feet stopped moving, her words warping, not really making sense to my stunned ears. I had my back to her, didn’t turn around. “Are you sure?”

  Her breathing quickened; there was the sound of her stepping down the stairs, closing the distance between us, the feel of her hair as she leaned over my shoulder and whispered in my ear.

  “Yes, Jet. I’m sure.”

  I spun and grabbed her by the ass, scooping her up into my arms. Laughing, she wrapped her legs around my waist and squeezed me tight as I bolted up the last of the stairs.