by N J Adel
A breath trembled on his lips as he nodded. “Move in with me, Mags.”
I straightened my dress, groping for words, my eyes on my feet.
“Please, don’t freak out. I know you value your freedom so much, but I promise I’d never mess that up.”
I glanced up at his face, thoughts swirling in my head. Last year when Tony dared say he loved me after going out for two months, I’d panicked—literally had a panic attack—to the point of breaking up with him. Now, Kyle was asking me to move in with him, and, surprisingly, I wasn’t freaking out. I was considering it.
Perhaps it had something to do with the impeccable timing. I had just decided never to let the Mike Effect affect me again. Yes, I might not have been following my passion this time, but what did passion get me so far? Pain. Disappointment. Impossible dreams. What if I, for once, chose what was right for me?
“I want my bed to smell like you. Want to watch TV with you in PJs. Cook for you. Make love to you in the middle of the night and first thing when I wake up.” He rested his forehead on mine, his hands on either side of my face. “I want to kiss you before I go to work, and I want to come home to you, Maggie.”
Fuck, that was sweet. Cheesy, but sweet. “Well…it doesn’t seem like such a terrible idea.”
A gasp escaped his mouth. “Yeah?”
My lips twitched with a smile. “Yeah.”
My feet lifted off the floor, and I found myself spinning, his strong arms tight around me. I giggled into his mouth as he kissed me.
“I love you, Maggie Dawson,” he said as he put me down. I leaned to kiss him again, but he pulled away. “You don’t have to do that every time I say I love you.”
I blinked at him, stunned for a moment, and then looked away. He met my stare. “You think I haven’t noticed? It’s all right. I don’t mind saying it for the both of us.”
“Maybe you don’t have to,” I whispered, carefully weighing my next words.
“What?” He seemed to be holding his breath.
My heart rocketed in my chest. My whole body tingled with something so strong, so loud, smothering everything else, including my sanity, hushing my fears. “I love you, too, Kyle.”
I didn’t know what kind of a woman possessed me and made me say those words, but I did know, in that instance, I loved him. Maybe not in the same way I loved someone I didn’t dare name now. But I did love Kyle. And I hoped to God it would be enough.
He finally let his breath out. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”
To my surprise, I didn’t regret saying it. I was serious about making this relationship work, and I didn’t mind going all in. “Can I kiss you now?”
“Oh, we’re gonna do a lot more than kissing.”
Scene 22
Mike
Mike walked into the hotel suite, tossing his wallet on the counter, while he scrolled through his phone. As he looked for someone to play Maggie tonight—a quick fix for the bulge in his pants—Andrea’s name jumped in his face, sending a jolt of disgust and rage through him. He narrowed his eyes at it for a second, and then tapped dial.
“Mike?” Her voice was thick with sleep.
“Did I wake you?” He removed his watch and dropped it on the granite, then held on to the edge of the island as he worked off his first dress boot.
She yawned. “Yes.”
“Good.” He got his second boot off and walked to the first chair in the living room.
“Are you all right? What happened?”
“I just wanna ask you one question.” His lips twisted as he sat. “How could you do this to her?”
“What…what’re you talking about? Who’s her?”
“Maggie.”
“What the hell?” There was a rustle of something. “You’re calling me in the middle of the night to give me a piece of your mind about some lies my daughter filled—?”
“It’s always someone else’s fault, right? Someone has to take the blame, but never you. Do you get off on hurting vulnerable people who need you? Or are you just so fuckin’ miserable you can’t stand seeing anybody happy, even your own daughter?”
The line went quiet for too long.
“You’re still there?” He undid his belt.
“If you’re finished, I’d like to go back to bed now.”
“I just want you to know one thing.” He clenched his teeth. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t. You’re just drunk.”
“And I’ll hate you more when I’m sober.” He closed his eyes and pushed against the floor. “I hate you, and I love her.”
More rustling. More quiet. “She just reminds you of me when I was her age,” she finally whispered.
“She reminds me of everything you’re not, and that’s why I love her.” He took a deep breath. “You’re fucking fired, Andrea. We’re done.”
She scoffed. “Tell me, Mike. Who do you blame for your mistakes?”
He paused, blood pounding in his skull. “All these years I thought…” His chest felt as if a heavy rock was pressed against it. He bent, scrubbing a hand over his face. “You played me. You played me bad. You made me believe it was all my fault, when it wasn’t. Still, I blame no one but myself. For trusting someone like you. Why do you think I haven’t told her how I feel?”
“Well, you’d better keep it that way. Sleep tight, Mickey.”
He frowned into the phone, and the line clicked off.
Scene 23
Maggie
The doorbell rang in the haze between dream and reality. Not sure what was happening, I opened one eye, my hand tumbling on the nightstand, looking for my phone. The door chimed again, this time accompanied by angry knocks, as I noticed the time.
4:52 p.m.
I bolted upright, cursing, and staggered to the door.
“You’re still asleep?!” Raoul squeaked.
I squinted at him as he strode inside, followed by a smiling Amanda. “Weren’t you the one who convinced me I should rest ‘cause we were ahead of schedule?”
“But now we’ve lost a whole day over a whim with a certain celebrity.”
“Don’t mind him. He’s just jealous.” Amanda stumbled on the shoe box. “When did you go shopping?”
I shut the door and picked up the box, smiling as I recalled dropping my belongings midway to plunge into Kyle’s arms. “I didn’t.”
“He bought you shoes?” She snatched the box out of my hands and opened it. “Oh my God.”
Raoul wheeled to peer at Mike’s gift. “You are one lucky bitch.”
I cocked a brow as they swooned over a pair of ankle boots. “I’m gonna hit the shower, dickheads.”
“Make it quick. We want the juicy details,” he demanded.
I did make it quick, but not to feed my friends with gossip. I needed to occupy my head with something bigger than yesterday’s decision. Work was the best distraction.
When I reached the working station, Amanda and Raoul’s hammering interrogations fell on me unheard. The what ifs and the maybes jamming my brain were louder than anything. I’d always hated that about myself. The uncertainty that sucked my soul after every decision I finally made.
“Could you just shut up?” I threw my hands in the air. Last night, I was happy, certain, and determined. Today, I was everything but. It was all slipping away and talking about Mike wouldn’t help.
“No way. You had a date with Mike Gennaro. We wanna know everything,” Amanda said.
“Date? What date? I had dinner with my friend. If you want juice, I’ve something better to tell you.” My phone vibrated. Amanda raced to the nightstand before I could move.
“What the fuck?” I glared at Amanda as she peeked at the screen. “Give me my phone now.”
Amanda snickered. “Uh…Raoul, you and I are friends, right?”
“Yeah,” he answered cautiously.
“Do you text me before your flight saying you miss me already and can’t wait for Christmas to see me again?”
“Highly unlikely,” he answered.
I yanked the phone out of Amanda’s hand. “Are you fuckin’ best friends?” I glanced back and forth between the two. “And when have you ever traveled long enough to miss anybody?”
“Ooh! Defensive,” he said. “Remind me what that means again?”
I pointed my index finger at him. “Fuck you.” My finger shifted toward Amanda. “And you.”
I read Mike’s text as they laughed. On the plane. Missing u already. Can’t wait for Christmas to b with u again.
The phone shook with another message, and my heart thudded. I pushed Amanda aside when she tried to peek again and motioned for her to return to her seat.
The new message was a selfie of Mike on the plane, pouting like a child. I snorted, my fingers tapping on letters. I should’ve lost that bet on purpose. I added multiple sad emojis and tapped SEND.
The sound of rattling keys made me swallow. I locked my phone and looked up.
“Kyle is here,” Amanda chimed in.
“Hey, guys.” He closed the front door as Amanda and Raoul greeted him.
I gave Kyle a hug, throwing my friends a dirty look, waving for them to start working.
“You just woke up?” Kyle asked.
“Yeah, I overslept. I hadn’t slept in two days and our last marathon finished me,” I replied.
He blushed, smiling. “I know. We didn’t even get a chance to discuss the arrangements. I came as soon as I finished work so we can get things in order for the moving.” His hands rubbed along my arms. “I couldn’t wait.”
I scratched the back of my neck, pulling at my hair a little. “We’ll have plenty of time to discuss this when I finish the movie. You know I can’t move in before that.”
“Which is in a few days. I can arrange everything this week so you can move in as soon as you’re done. All you need to do is give me a list of things to buy.”
My stomach tightened with unease. My chest too. “I don’t know, Kyle. I don’t even know if I want to move to your place, or if you should come live with me.”
“Of course, we’re gonna live at my place. How’s that even a question?”
What the fuck? “Of course, it’s a question.” I raised my eyebrows, perplexed. “Even if we agree to live at your apartment, I need to take another look at it, at least, to take measurements. We’re gonna discuss colors and breaking walls. Agree and disagree on renovations. Compromise.”
“You have my full consent to do whatever you want. Just tell me what to do.”
“Kyle, please.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “Look, I really can’t talk about this right now. I’ve already lost yesterday and burned daylight today. I can’t afford to lose another minute. The festival will be closed to submissions in five days.”
“All that didn’t seem important yesterday when you dropped everything to dress up and go have dinner with your friend.”
Here it is. The fight he deliberately didn’t start last night. “Excuse me?”
His forehead creased. “What, you can waste five precious hours with him, but you can’t spare thirty minutes for something as important as moving in together?”
“Oh my God. You’re moving in together?” Amanda jumped to her feet. “Congratulations.” She screamed and gave me a hug. “Is that what you were trying to tell us?”
I frowned, glaring at Kyle. “Yeah, but you guys wouldn’t shut up.”
Kyle folded his arms across his chest while Raoul rose from his seat and congratulated him. “Sorry, Mags. We just wanted to know what happened at that dinner.”
“Don’t we all?” Kyle mumbled.
I broke my embrace with Amanda. “What the… You know what? All of you, listen carefully ‘cause I’m gonna say this once and for all,” I commanded, anger rumbling in my chest. “I know you see Mike Gennaro as a fucking god, but I don’t, not when I’m used to waking up to find him watching TV in our living room on a Tuesday. I’ve known the man since I was BORN.”
The three of them looked startled as I lashed out, but I didn’t care. These three people are supposed to be ones of the closest to me. The people who loved me, and I loved back. I didn’t need to take shit from them, too. This haze and confusion and accusations were fucking up my mind, and they needed to end right now.
“It’s completely normal for him to give me expensive gifts, ‘cause that’s what fucking rich people do. I used to do it all the time, too, when I was. It doesn’t mean anything at all,” I bellowed, my fists on my hips.
“And you know why he can’t wait for Christmas to see me again? Because we’ve only seen each other five fuckin’ times all year. Five.” I held up a hand, spreading my fingers. “This holiday is the only time we can be together before he takes off again to make more movies for God knows how long. And just so you know, even though I hate the fucking holidays, I, too, can’t wait for Christmas to see him again.” I gritted my teeth. “Any more fucking questions?”
Amanda and Raoul exchanged a glance and shook their heads like scared morons.
“Good, ‘cause we have work to do.” I stalked toward my laptop. From the corner of my eye, I saw a grimace I couldn’t interpret on Kyle’s face.
Scene 24
Maggie
I looked up from my laptop when Kyle plopped down on the couch next to me. The sheepish smile on his face made me quirk an eyebrow. “What?”
“Is it too early to ask?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes.” It’d been two days since I’d agreed on a two-week trial of staying at his apartment—to see if I liked it enough to make it our new home—and he was already asking if I had made up my mind. Two fucking days.
As I glanced back at the laptop, I could feel his stare on me. If he wanted an answer now, it would be a big fat no. The apartment was twice as big as mine, yet stifling. The monochrome, Ikea furniture set me off. I didn’t mind the black, but there was just too much white. Who in their right minds would buy a white, leather couch for the living room? My mouth twisted at the thought as I shifted in the ridiculous couch.
He bent his head closer to the screen. “What are you doing anyway?”
“Cyber stalking the festival jury.”
He chuckled and leaned back. “How many views so far?”
“One thousand, thirty-two,” I mumbled, chewing on my fingernail.
“That’s pretty awesome.”
“Not so awesome. Eyes on Vallarta and Birth are kicking our asses.”
“But the results have nothing to do with the views, right?”
“No, but it’s an indicator.”
His hand saved what was left of the fingernail from my teeth. “Maggie, you’ll win. Just relax. You got this.”
I sucked in a breath between my teeth, missing my vape. It was the only thing that calmed me, yet I couldn’t use it inside his place. Our place? “Thanks.”
He laughed, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just I haven’t seen you like this in months, when all that mattered was your novel. Remember that?”
“Yeah.” My eyes tightened. “Well, I don’t know if you’ll understand, but this movie means the world to me now. I care about it much more than I’ve ever cared about all of my stories.”
“Oh, I understand. I just hope you don’t wake up one day deciding this was never something you wanted.”
I tilted my head, my eyes scrutinizing his expression. “You sound a lot like Dad, you know?”
“Your father doesn’t believe you’ll make it, but I do.” He smirked. “Only if you stick to it long enough.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Is this about the move? You think I changed my mind?”
He let out a heavy sigh. “I know you did.”
“Then what the fuck am I doing here?”
“I’m not sure.”
I snapped the laptop shut and rose to my feet. He grabbed my wrist before I storm
ed out. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being an ass right now.” His hand pulled me back to the couch. I yielded. “But I was super excited about this, and you kind of ruined it for me,” he added.
“I didn’t change my mind. I really want this to work, but me sucking at making decisions doesn’t mean you get to decide for me. Or us.” I held his hands and squeezed them. “I need to try things before deciding whether they’ll work or not. So trust me, I’m doing the best that I can. Do you know what I’m saying?”
His nod was hesitant. “I guess I need to understand that this is more change for you than it is for me.”
“Exactly.”
He filled his lungs with air. Then he pressed his lips to my knuckles and rose. “Okay. I’ll leave you to your stalking and go make us some dinner then.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” I reopened the laptop.
“You’ve got to eat something. You haven’t been able to keep anything down for days. I’m starting to worry.”
“It’s no big deal. Stress does this to me.”
“Since when?”
Tugging at my T-shirt, I snorted. “Since I can remember. Don’t you know I have IBS? It’s nothing.”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing to me, so it’s either dinner or we’re seeing a doctor.”
“Oh, God. Okay, babe. Dinner it is.”
“How about some Chicken Alfredo?” he suggested, already in the kitchen.
My lashes fluttered. “Do you have amnesia, babe? You know I don’t eat chicken, right? We’ve been together for almost a year. You gotta know these things by now.”
“Shit. I keep forgetting that.”
“Why?” I asked, water running and metal banging in the background.
“Because everybody likes chicken,” he answered as if stating the obvious.
“Well, I don’t.”
“Maybe you should give it another shot.”
What the fuck? I threw my hands in the air in exasperation, glaring at the emptiness. “No, thanks.”