Lost on the Road to Love

by Kay Harris

  I plucked the condom from his hand and sat up on my knees, straddling his thighs. I grinned as I rolled the condom down over him. Then I stroked him from the base to the head, squeezing just a bit. Henry’s head wrenched back, his eyes closed. A moan escaped from his throat, vibrating his neck which now stretched in front of me.

  I felt a heady sense of power over this magnificent creature. “You want more?” I asked, my voice low and seductive.

  Henry’s head moved forward and his eyelids fluttered open, revealing those melting chocolate irises that matched the mischief in my own. “You want me to beg?”

  “No need,” I said as I moved so that I settled myself on him. In one quick and monumental movement, he was inside me again.

  It was just as much of a life-affirming act as it had been the first time Henry had slowly inched into me from above, perhaps even better. Gone was Henry’s careful concern and his intense, and unnecessary, restraint as he hovered over me. Now we were as we should be, two people who wanted each other and felt no inhibitions about needing it.

  Gone too, was any need to be quiet or reserved. As I moved deftly on top of him, we both made noise. I called out his name, and he moaned mine. We thanked higher deities and spewed obscenities. And after we’d both come, shaking and keening together, we pulled each other into a tight cuddle, unable to do anything but breathe deeply and be grateful for what we’d stumbled into.

  ****

  “Okay, this is serious. We have to sort this out.”

  It had taken us another hour to actually get clean and dressed. Then we’d taken a cab to a restaurant a few miles away so we didn’t run the risk of bumping into someone from the show. Thankfully, we still had a couple of hours before we had to meet up with everyone else at the airport.

  I had no idea how painful this conversation was going to be, but we simply had to have it.

  “Look, Chels. I think you’re overreacting. I don’t think it’s a big deal. You said yourself you’ve had this arrangement before,” Henry said, preempting the conversation as soon as we’d ordered our breakfast.

  “And I told you it had a fifty-fifty success rate. I also told you it wasn’t the same as us,” I said, pointing between the two of us.

  Henry took my hand and held it on the table. “You’re upset.”

  “I’m not upset,” I protested. “I’m worried.”

  “Okay. What do I need to do to make you not worry?” He leaned toward me, his deep brown eyes settling on my own.

  I took a long breath, trying to be as calm about all of this as Henry. “We need to set some ground rules.”

  He took a sip of his coffee and leaned back in his chair. “Okay. Anything you want.”

  I sat straight in my chair and ticked off the rules on my fingers. “Number one, as soon as one of us is interested in someone else romantically, we have to say so.” I knew it would be Henry, not me, who would be the one saying he’d found someone else. I was in way too deep. But that was part of the reason for these rules. I would need time to adjust when he found someone else. I couldn’t have it be a surprise. “Like, as soon as you feel like asking someone out, not after you’ve asked them out,” I said, to emphasize how serious I was about this.

  “Okay.”

  “Number two is, when we cut it off, we do it just like that.” I snapped my fingers with my free hand. “No lingering. We immediately go back to being just friends, no benefits.” My chest tightened at the thought of losing out on what I’d had last night and this morning.

  Henry’s gaze pierced mine and his brow bunched up. I was glad to see he was taking this seriously. “Okay.”

  “Number three.”

  “How long is this list?”

  “Last one. Number three is that it has to be a secret. As far as the rest of the world knows, we’re just friends. And that goes for everyone.”

  “Even Tom?”

  I nodded. “I won’t even tell my brother. No one. It’ll be easier this way. We won’t have to answer any questions or live up to any bizarre expectations.”

  “Bizarre expectations?” he asked, cocking his head.

  “Yeah, when Gary and I were…doing this, we told some people close to us or they knew anyway. And they all expected us to start dating. They didn’t understand when we didn’t. And a few of them really flipped out when he started dating someone else. They acted affronted, like he was betraying me, or they were sad and sorry for me, like we’d broken up. It was just ridiculous. I don’t want to have to deal with it.”

  “Okay, it’s our secret,” Henry agreed. “Is that it?”

  “Yes. That’s it. I think…I think we can retain our friendship this way.”

  “Don’t think, Chels,” Henry said, a very serious look on his face. “Our friendship is very important to me. We will keep it intact.”

  I nodded, swallowing hard. I wasn’t so sure this would work. After all, I’d already made a huge mistake by falling for Henry.

  ****

  One month ago—Kansas City, Missouri

  I hedged. “I just finished it. I sent it to Jack yesterday. He hasn’t watched it yet, so…I don’t know if it’s any good.” I stood in front of the screen, not really wanting to move and show my film to Henry.

  He grinned. “So, does that mean I will be the first one to see it?”

  I bit my lip and nodded.

  “Not even Tom has seen it?”

  I shook my head.

  His grin grew wider, and he settled deeper into the couch. Then, he patted the seat beside him gently. “Let’s get started, Chels.”

  I lingered in front of the television for a moment longer. I had, in fact, lost the bet. Henry was certainly turned on by my strip tease (which had been sadly without any tease). There was no denying it. So now I had to pay my debt. And I was nervous as hell about it.

  “Come on, afterward we’ll go get Kansas City burnt ends at the barbecue place across the street,” he promised. “Come on, Chels.”

  I sighed heavily. I hit the play button then quickly skipped to the couch, plopping down harshly beside Henry. He pulled me against his chest and tucked his arms around me.

  We watched my film in complete silence. I’d made the documentary for Jack’s nonprofit. It addressed the issue of homelessness. It was relatively short, but I remained completely tense for the entire twenty-six minutes. When the film ended and the screen went black, I turned to Henry, my muscles like tight rubber bands, my eyes meeting his tentatively.

  “You are so talented, Chels,” he said softly, his dark eyes dancing. “I mean, that was…it was so amazing!”

  “Thanks,” I said quietly, pulling my gaze away from his.

  “You have a bright future with this, Chels.”

  I shrugged. “I did it for free for my brother, Jack. It’s not exactly—”

  “It’s just the beginning,” he said, squeezing my shoulders.

  “You really liked it?”

  “Hell, yes.” Henry pulled one arm away from my shoulder and placed his palm on my cheek. “Look, I get why you’re insecure about this. I feel the same way about my writing. But I’m completely serious about this. You are very, very good.”

  My muscles started to loosen, and I felt myself relax under his touch. “You gonna let me read something you wrote?” I asked, hoping he would reciprocate in this game of sharing.

  “Sure. I have a short story I’ll put on your ereader tomorrow, okay?”

  I nodded, suppressing the giant grin that threatened to make an appearance as I anticipated getting to read something Henry had written.

  Henry put his arms back around me, and I nuzzled farther into his chest. He kissed the top of my head. “So, tell me how you see your future.”

  “Hmmm. Well, I’m going to do fewer gigs over the next couple of years. I want to spend more time filming for my own projects. I also need to spend time talking to investors and engaging stations to air my work, stuff like that. I’m hoping that within five years, I’ll have at least one
full-length film produced and sold. After that”—I shrugged—“sky’s the limit.” I turned my body a little so I could see his face better. “What about you, Henry?”

  He pushed a strand of hair off my cheek and tucked it behind my ear, then he fiddled with the arm of my glasses. “I haven’t really planned it out. I guess I’ve just been focused on selling one story at a time.”

  “Come on,” I coaxed. “You must have given it some thought. Where do you see yourself in five years?”

  He laughed. “What is this? A job interview?”

  I stuck my tongue out at him.

  “I don’t know. Hopefully, financially stable. Or maybe married to a woman with a good career so I can stay home and be a failed writer.”

  “So, you’re going to find a woman who’s gonna carry your ass?” I teased.

  “Hey, I’ll take care of the kids.”

  I sat up and looked intently at him. “Are you serious? About wanting the wife and kids, I mean.” I was shocked, though I couldn’t name why.

  “Sure. Why not?” he said, looking completely innocent.

  “I…I don’t know. It isn’t something I’ve ever really given any thought to. And I guess I’m always a little surprised when someone my age has it all figured out.”

  “You never thought about it?”

  I shrugged. “Not really, no.”

  “I have,” he said, tucking me back into his side. “But my chances of getting a happily-ever-after are slim.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked, my mind still reeling as I tried to keep up with this head-spinning conversation.

  “My parents.”

  “What did they do?” I asked, confused.

  He chuckled and the movement of his chest vibrated beneath me in a delicious way. “They set my expectations too high.”

  “How so?”

  “If you ever saw them together, it wouldn’t require an explanation. But they are insanely in love, even after all these years. It’s tangible in the air around them. Even when they fight, you can see it all over them. And having grown up with them as my example, I don’t think I could ever make a lifelong commitment with anything less than that all-consuming love. So…it may never happen.”

  Silence sat between us for a long time. My mind was whirring with questions. Who would be the woman that finally got into Henry’s heart? Would I like her? Would she be someone I’d know, be friends with?

  To disguise my internal turmoil, I said flippantly, “Fucking pessimist.”

  ****

  Three weeks ago—Denver, Colorado

  “They freaking love it!” Steve slammed a purplish folder down on the table in front of him. “We have the highest-rated show on the network right now, people.”

  Steve had continued his pouty, martyred attitude toward the show right up until tonight. He’d allowed Henry, Tom, and me to completely take over our portion of the show, and he’d only half-assed the other part. But now he was more than willing to take credit for the show’s success.

  “He better not start trying to micromanage us,” Tom whispered from beside me.

  Steve opened the folder and fiddled with some papers inside. “I’ve got some audience feedback we need to keep in mind as we wrap up the season with the last few shows. We want to end on the highest note possible and set up for a killer second season.”

  I watched as Henry sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. He sat directly across the large oval conference table from me, but his gaze was fixed on a spot on the polished oak in front of him.

  “Okay, they love watching Tyressa go to the nightclubs. Especially the men. They say you’re a great dancer, sweetie.”

  Tyressa beamed.

  “And the women think Henry is sexy as hell.”

  Henry rolled his eyes.

  “In fact, the whole going out to museums and shit seems to make you seem even sexier,” Steve said, looking over at Henry, who grimaced. “So, nice suggestion.”

  “It was Chelsea’s idea,” Henry said, snapping his head up.

  “Nicely done,” Steve said, actually bothering to look at me as he said it. “And I gotta say, we’re gonna have a winner with this ‘taking your mom to the history museum’ thing.”

  “It isn’t a ‘thing,’ ” Henry protested. “I am going to hang out with my mom. I didn’t invite any cameras along.”

  I knew he was cranky about this, even though his mom had agreed to it. His hesitation had finally given way last week after much harassment by Steve. But now, he regretted it.

  Steve ignored this. “We asked some of the women surveyed, and they lost their shit over the idea. Universally, they thought it was like the hottest thing they’d ever freaking heard of.” Steve shrugged. “Women are weird.”

  Henry sighed and went back to staring at the table.

  “So, we do the museum tomorrow, and other than that, you got this stop off as requested, Henry.” After saying that, Steve turned to Tyressa and her team. He explained what they needed to do during their Denver shooting.

  When Steve released us fifteen minutes later, Henry bolted out of the little conference room and headed straight for the elevator. I caught up with him as he hit the down button.

  “You headed to the airport to pick up your mom?” I asked.

  “Yeah, you wanna come?”

  “No. Thanks, but I have some work to do this afternoon.”

  “But we’ll see you for dinner?” he asked, raising one eyebrow as if he were challenging me to back out.

  “Um, how about after dinner? We could go out for drinks or something,” I suggested.

  “Okay, but don’t flake.” He pointed his finger at me, a deep crease marring his perfectly proportionate forehead. “My mom is dying to meet you, and I don’t want the first time to be while we’re shooting tomorrow.”

  Henry had asked to break my rules. He’d said there was no way his mom wouldn’t figure out what was going on with us. And I’d agreed, partly because I’d already accidently outed our arrangement to Tom. But, of course, this made me even more nervous about meeting her.

  But I didn’t let that show as I said, “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”

  Chapter 14

  I stood in front of the hotel room, nervous as hell. I’d been pacing in the hallway for a good ten minutes, and I knew I had to just stop and make myself knock on the door.

  When I’d first arrived, I’d told myself I had no idea why I was nervous about meeting Henry’s mom. But over the course of my obsessive pacing, I’d admitted to myself it was because I was afraid she’d see right through me.

  Before I could worry myself further over this terrifying thought, I knocked on the door. Thirty seconds later, the door swung open, and I got my first in-person look at Dani “Baby” Rush.

  “Chelsea!” she shouted, pulling me into the room and throwing her arms around me. When she pulled me back to arm’s length and said, “Let me look at you!” I took my chance to examine her, too.

  She was around my height. She didn’t look anywhere near old enough to have a twenty-six-year-old son, and she was way too ordinary-looking to have had her picture in magazines.

  She was pretty, for sure, but not glamorous, not at all. She had long, straight hair that was a plain brown color streaked with a little gray. Her otherwise smooth face held distinct laugh lines around her bright blue eyes. And there was a just a hint of Henry there in her face, the nose perhaps, and the long eyelashes.

  “I have been dying to meet you,” she told me.

  “Me too, Mrs…” What the hell was I suppose to call her? My brain rooted around frantically. Her real name was Danielle Rushton, but all the papers called her Baby Rush. I couldn’t imagine calling this woman “Baby,” but then, did I use Mrs. Rush or Mrs. Rushton?

  Fortunately, she helped me out. “Call me Baby…No wait. You know what? Call me Dani.”

  “Okay, Dani.”

  She smiled. “Wow. That feels nice. No one other than my sister has called me Dan
i in years. Even my parents call me Baby.” She rolled her eyes, and right there I could see her in Henry.

  She seemed to be ruminating internally about her name, so I took a moment to look around the substantial hotel suite to locate Henry. The suite had two doors off the main room. I happened to know from having spent the night before in this very suite that one was a bathroom and the other was a separate bedroom. I assumed Henry was in one of them.

  “God, we have so much to talk about,” Dani said as she ushered me over to the couch. A bottle of wine sat on the coffee table, and she poured two glasses. Then, as I sat down, she handed me one and sat beside me. “Red okay?”

  “Sure.” I wiggled out of my jacket and let it fall behind me before taking the glass and indulging in a long drink. “Um, isn’t Henry having any?” I asked, looking at the two glasses, one in my hand and one in hers.

  “He’s not here.” She settled back in the couch, angling toward me. “Right after we got back from dinner I got a call from the airline saying they located my suitcase. I never usually check my bags. I always just take carry-on. But practically every member of my damn family sent me something to bring Henry. And most of it was food, including a jar of homemade preserves from his Uncle Mike. So I had to check a bag for the first time in, like, twenty years, and of course, it got lost. Anyway, he went to the airport to go get it, and I stayed here in case you showed up. He should be back in fifteen or twenty minutes.”

  I was floored. How could Henry not have warned me I would be alone with his mom? “Oh…um…I’m surprised he didn’t text me,” I said quietly.

  She laughed. “He left his phone here. He was a little frazzled today. It was kind of weird, to be honest with you. I mean, I’m not the kind of mom who makes her son nervous when she visits. In fact, I think I’m pretty damn chill. I asked him what was up, but he wouldn’t tell me.”

  “Huh?” I said. “I don’t know. He seemed fine this afternoon when I saw him. Except that…” I grinned, remembering Henry’s reaction to Steve’s declaration that women found him hot.