by Marie Force
My ringing cell phone tears me out of my uneasy contemplation. Surprised to have reception at altitude, I withdraw the phone from my back pocket and take the call from Hayden. “What’s up?”
“Where are you?”
“In the air. You?”
“Just landed. We’re hanging at the club tonight. Will we see you?”
“Not tonight. I’ve got some stuff to do when I land.”
“Not tonight, not last night, not all last week. What’s the deal, Flynn? Was it something we said?”
Well, sort of… I thought it, but I’d never say it. For all his pain-in-the-ass qualities, Hayden is my oldest and closest friend. “Don’t be stupid. Nothing to do with you. But listen, while I have you, I’ve been thinking I’d like to do postproduction in New York rather than LA.” A long pause follows my statement. “Hayden?”
“I’m here. I’m just wondering where the hell you are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You hate the cold, Flynn, almost as much as I do. You hightail it back to LA the second you wrap a film—every single time. And now you’re telling me you want to spend the next few months freezing our asses off in New York when we could be surfing in LA? And you wonder what’s wrong with me?”
I pinch the top of my nose, which I hope will keep my head from blowing off my neck. “You know damned well why I want to be in New York right now.”
“And you know damned well why I don’t.”
“Fine, then I’ll commute. Forget I said anything.”
“Come on, man. Let’s at least talk about it.”
“What’s there to talk about? I want to be in New York. You don’t. Neither of us is about to budge, so I’ll figure something out.”
“You’re really that into this girl?”
“She’s not a girl. She’s a woman—an amazingly strong, resilient, smart woman.”
“Who also happens to be hot as fuck.”
“Shut the fuck up, Hayden. Don’t talk about her that way.”
“We always talk about women that way.”
I’m ashamed to admit he’s right. “Not this one.”
“Dude, I don’t even know what to say to you these days. Everything I do is wrong, and you’re all edgy and shit. What’s up with that?”
He’s right. I can’t deny it. I changed after I met Natalie and recognized she could be someone special. It’s not Hayden’s fault that our usual rules of engagement are no longer in effect, and I failed to tell him that. “I just need a little time to deal with a few things that are going on right now. It’s nothing to do with you. We’re cool.”
“Are you sure? Because I haven’t been getting the ‘we’re cool’ vibe from you at all in the last week. I’ve been getting the ‘Flynn’s pissed at me and won’t tell me why’ vibe. And part of me doesn’t give a shit, because if you’re pissed, you’ll get over it. You always do. But this feels different somehow.”
“It is different. She’s different. I need you to respect that and give me a little space.”
“How much space and how long do you need?”
“I don’t know. I’ll let you know. But I won’t be around much next week.”
“I thought you were sticking around LA until the SAGs,” he says of the Screen Actors Guild Awards that are two weeks after the Globes.
“I’m going back to New York in between.”
“You’re crazy, man, but whatever. Do what you gotta do. Just remember we’ve got a film to finish and not a lot of time to do it.”
“I’m well aware of the timing.”
“Could I ask you one other thing?”
“Sure.”
“Have you prepared her for what’ll happen after she appears in public with you? Arranged security and all that?”
“Addie’s on it, but thanks for asking.”
“No problem. Well, I guess I’ll see you Sunday.”
“See you then.”
The click on the other end indicates that Hayden is gone.
I’m playing with fire in every aspect of my life, risking my reputation for having my priorities straight when it comes to my career and the people I work with, but Natalie is worth the risk.
Hayden’s question about security puts me right back on edge. Because of what she’s endured in the past, I have to warn her again about the media blitz that will follow our coming-out party. I have to be sure it won’t cause a setback for her after she’s worked so hard to build a new life for herself. In light of what she shared with me earlier, I shouldn’t take her with me on Sunday. I have to give her the chance to beg off and spare her the insanity.
Selfish bastard that I am, I hate the thought of her deciding not to come with me. But she’s already been violated once before, and that word aptly describes what will happen to her once the press catches wind of the fact that I have a new woman in my life, and that I’m serious about her.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself to deal with the disappointment that will follow her decision. But this isn’t about what’s best for me. I have to think of what is best for her. I will do the right thing by her no matter what it costs me—emotionally and physically.
With the steady drumbeat of desire thrumming through my veins reminding me of what I can’t have, it’s hard to say what price will exact the greater toll on me—the physical or the emotional.
Flynn wakes me with kisses that begin at my shoulder and end at my fingertips, leaving a tingle of sensation that reawakens the desire. “We land in about an hour, Sleeping Beauty.”
“How long have I been asleep?”
“About three hours.”
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry. You must’ve been bored.”
“Not so bad. I watched a movie when I wasn’t watching you sleep.”
I’m immediately embarrassed at the thought of him watching me sleep.
He runs a finger over my frown. “You were adorable. As always.”
I shift under the blanket, and the rasp of soft wool against my breasts reminds me that I’m half-naked. My nipples tighten under the blanket, and I swear he knows that my body is reacting to his nearness.
As always, he shows restraint, but I can tell it doesn’t come naturally to him. He’s a man who reaches out and takes what he wants, and he clearly wants me. That he can’t have me, at least not the way he’d like to have me, hasn’t driven him away.
“I would give anything to know what goes on in that pretty head of yours when you look at me that way.”
“What way am I looking at you?”
“Like you have a million questions you’re dying to ask me, but can’t bring yourself to do it.” He bends over me to rub his nose against mine. “I wish you’d ask rather than worry about things that are probably no big deal.”
“This whole thing is a big deal to me. A huge big deal. You have no idea how big.”
“I think I have a small idea—and it’s a huge big deal to me, too. Just in case you thought otherwise.”
“I feel like Cinderella at the ball, and any second the clock is going to strike midnight, and the handsome prince will disappear in a wisp of smoke, never to be seen or heard from again.”
“As you well know, the prince showed up the next day with her slipper, and they all lived happily ever after.”
“That’s how it works in fairy tales. Not real life.”
“Not to give myself more credit than I deserve, but if I’m playing the role of the prince in this fairy tale of yours, I can assure you I’m not going anywhere. No wisp of smoke, no team of mules or ten men could drag me away from you. So whatever you’re thinking, just say it. Put it out there and have one less thing on your mind.”
He makes it so easy to lay myself bare before him in more ways than one. Words come to mind that I can’t imagine saying to anyone, let alone him, but because he makes it easy, I find myself saying them. “I see the way you look at me.”
“How do I look at you?”
“Like you’re starving, and I�
��m the only food for miles around.”
A broad smile unfolds across his sinfully handsome face. “You do make me rather ravenous. Have we moved on from Cinderella to the Big Bad Wolf?”
I laugh at the playful growl that accompanies his question. “I want you to know… I’m aware that you have… needs… and if you wanted to go elsewhere for that—”
“Natalie! Jesus. What do you take me for? A rutting beast with no self-control?” He stands and pushes his hands through his hair, his entire body rigid with impatience and irritation.
“I didn’t mean it that way.” I hate that I’ve upset him.
“You wouldn’t care if I went off and fucked someone else because you’re not ready to put out? Is that what you’re saying?”
His crude language is shocking to me, but not as much as the flash of jealousy that roars through me at the thought of him having sex with another woman. Clearly, I didn’t think this suggestion all the way through.
His face relaxes into a smile that’s full of male satisfaction. “Thought so.”
“Did you say that to make me jealous?”
He returns to the sofa, bracketing me with his arms on either side of my body. “No, silly girl, I said that to show you how ridiculous you’re being. I want you. Only you. When I said I’d wait, I didn’t mean until a more convenient vagina comes along, tempting me to stray.”
“That’s gross!” I sputter with laughter even though I find him outrageous. “I can’t believe you just said that. Although I’m sure you’ve met many a convenient vagina in your time.”
“Vaginas are rather readily available for big movie stars like me.”
I love that he laughs so easily at himself and his lifestyle. I love that he cares enough to make me jealous. “You were right.”
“About?”
“I was jealous at the thought of you with someone else.”
“Good. You should be. I’m all yours.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “And because you’re all mine and I want to protect you, we need to talk again about Sunday. While you were asleep, Hayden called, and when we talked about the Globes, he asked if I’ve arranged security and properly prepared you for what’ll happen afterward.”
“You arranged security? For me?”
“Hell yes, I did. The media will be relentless when they put two and two together with you and me. Since I can’t be with you every minute of every day, I’m not going to risk you being hurt or overrun by them.”
I swallow hard at the thought of being pursued.
“And,” he says haltingly, “because of what you told me earlier and the possibility of that making headlines, I’m wondering if we should change our plans for Sunday.”
“There’s no chance of that making headlines. It’s buried so deep, they’ll never find it.”
“If there’s something there to be found, babe, they’ll find it.”
“No, they won’t.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. But I’ll understand if you don’t want to go to the trouble and expense of security. I can watch it on TV and cheer you on that way.”
“I couldn’t care less about the cost of security—or the trouble. I want you with me, but I’d never do anything to cause you further pain. You’ve already had enough.”
“I won’t lie to you. The thought of being pursued by reporters is unnerving to me, but I’d really like to go with you. If that’s all right.”
“It’s more than all right. We’ll have a fantastic time.”
I smile up at him, and he bends to kiss me. He roots around under the blanket until he finds my bra and sweater. “How about some dinner?”
“That sounds good.”
Without making a fuss of it, he helps me into my clothes. I don’t miss the flash of desire that overtakes him at the sight of my bare breasts. Knowing he wants me so badly is a powerful thrill.
Once I’m decent, he rings for Jacob, and we enjoy a delicious meal of tender filet mignon and cheesy scalloped potatoes.
“These potatoes are my new favorite food ever,” I tell him.
“They are pretty damned good.” He refills our wineglasses.
Between the rich red wine, the delicious food, the sexy man keeping me company and the restorative nap, I’m feeling more relaxed than I have in years—a thought I share freely with him when my inclination is to keep most thoughts to myself.
“I’m so glad to hear that. I want you to relax and enjoy everything this weekend. You so deserve to be pampered.”
“I don’t know if I deserve it, but I won’t say no to it.”
“We’re going to have a lot of fun. I promise you that.”
The approach into LAX is bumpy due to wind, and I cling to Flynn’s hand. When the wheels finally touch down on the runway, I can finally breathe normally again.
“You okay?”
“Much better now that we’re back on the ground.”
“Me, too.”
“You don’t like to fly?”
“It’s not my favorite thing to do, but a necessary evil in my life.”
We say good-bye and thanks to Jacob before we deplane on the tarmac, where a car is waiting for us. In the short minutes we’re outside, I appreciate the warmth after the deep freeze in New York. Flynn helps me into another low-slung black sports car while someone else sees to our luggage.
We’re driving away from the airport minutes after we arrive. “This is all very impressive.”
“What is?”
“The efficiency with which you travel.”
“Another necessary evil. The last time I flew commercial, the airline ‘invited’ me not to fly with them again because my presence on the plane caused a one-hour delay in departure, and I got mobbed in the airport, which isn’t as much fun as it sounds.”
“They actually came right out and asked you not to fly with them again?”
“Not in so many words, but the message was received loud and clear. I’m apparently too disruptive.”
“Wow.”
“See what I mean when I tell you it’s not all champagne and tuxedos?”
“I’m beginning to see there’s a definite downside to fame.”
“Not that I’d ever complain about my truly amazing life.”
“You always have to add that disclaimer, don’t you?”
“Last thing in the world I’d ever want anyone to think is that I’m ungrateful for what has been a truly astonishing career and life. The only downside has been the loss of anonymity and the ability to move around freely. Every outing has to be carefully choreographed, and that gets tiresome. But again—not complaining, just stating the facts of my reality.”
“Which is another thing the entertainment websites and news shows don’t cover when it comes to celebrities.”
“Exactly. That’s because if they cover it, they’d have to acknowledge their role in creating the insatiable desire for personal information about celebrities. They’d also have to take responsibility for the fact that they often endanger us—and themselves—in the pursuit of the big story. It’s a catch-22 for them.”
“It’s all very interesting to me, to see it from your point of view.”
“We go into this business knowing that’s part of it, but until you’ve lived it, you can’t imagine how invasive it can be.” He glances over at me. “Which is why I’m so concerned about exposing you to it.”
“And I appreciate your concern. I really do. But if my choices are to put up with some attention from the media or never see you again, I’ll take my lumps with the press.”
He reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’ll keep you safe, sweetheart. I promise.”
“I know you will. So what kind of car is this?” I ask, looking to take the conversation in a less intense direction.
“This beauty is an Aston Martin Vanquish.”
“You do love your cars.”
“It’s one of my two addictions—neither of them illegal.”
As we
exit the freeway, I ask, “Where’re we going?”
“My place in the hills tonight and tomorrow night. We’re staying in town on Sunday.” He looks over at me again. “Is that okay?”
“Sure. It sounds good.” Though he’s told me repeatedly that he has no expectations, what happened on the plane has changed my expectations. I want to be close to him. I want to let him in. I want things I’ve never wanted before. Am I prepared to give him everything? No, not yet. But I want more than nothing.
“Now what’re you thinking?”
“I don’t know how to say it.”
“I told you before—just put it out there. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”
“Remember when you asked me to come on this trip and you promised separate bedrooms?”
“I haven’t forgotten. My place has four extra bedrooms. You can have your pick.”
“What if I pick your room?”
“That’s fine, too. I can sleep anywhere.”
When I realize he’s missed my meaning, I begin to laugh. His baffled glance only makes me laugh harder.
“What the hell is so funny?”
“You are. We are. I’m trying to tell you I want to sleep with you, and I’m bungling it badly.”
“Oh. You do?”
“Yeah. Is that okay?”
“Baby, that is the best news I’ve ever gotten.”
“I’m not saying I want to, you know, do everything. But I want to be with you.”
“I want to be with you, too, and I can’t wait to sleep with you in my arms.”
I shiver in anticipation of spending a full night with him—something I never thought I’d want from any man until this one came along and showed me what’s still possible despite everything I’ve been through. I also acknowledge that I’m falling in love with him, one sweet moment at a time. He seems to understand me innately, in a way that no one ever has. And that he’s willing to let me set the pace is a precious and priceless gift to me.
Flynn’s house is way up in the Hollywood Hills in a location I could never find again if I had to. He punches in a code that opens the big iron gates that guard the property and drives into a circular driveway, coming to a stop outside the front door.
A young woman with long blonde hair comes rushing out the front door to greet us. “You’re here! Welcome home.” She gives Flynn a huge hug before turning to give me the same greeting. “So nice to meet you, Natalie.”