Beyond the Stars

by Stacy Wise

  “It’s good. I, um…I wanted to mention…”

  Bang. Bang. Bang. “Room service!”

  Jesus. Can the room service person be any louder? Jack hops up to get the door, and I’m left wondering what he wanted to mention. That he loves kissing his costar?

  Jack brings the food over to the bed, and we spread it out, picnic style. I could get used to eating like this with him. He pours a full glass of wine for me and then fills his own. I slug back a hearty drink. “So what is it you wanted to say?”

  “It’s nothing really. Just that I’m going on location for the last part of the shoot. No big deal. I’ll talk to you about it another time.”

  I nod between bites of pasta. It’s a yummy fusilli in a buttery sauce with mushrooms and spices that taste like fall. Nutmeg, perhaps. I mop up some sauce with a hunk of warm French bread. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was. This is so good.”

  He grins at me and holds up his wineglass. “Thanks again for coming with me today.”

  “Sure.” We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. When the empty feeling in my stomach disappears, replaced by a happy warmth, I reach over to set my plate on the bedside table. I look at Jack, willing him to clear everything from the bed in a grand sweep. Then he’d gently lay me down on the bed, his hands exploring… Oh, shut up, stupid romantic voices in my head. The bed’s a freaking fire truck.

  Jack moves his plate away, too, but not in a grand sweep. He sets it on the table near his side of the bed but keeps his wine. He leans back against the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him. I stay seated near his shins, sneaking glances at him and wondering what to say. He has a faraway look in his eyes.

  “Today made me think about my mom.” He says it plainly, quietly. My ears perk up. I want so badly to know about his life, but I know it’s not my place to ask. I have to tread carefully.

  I let my eyes land gently on his. It’s okay to talk to me.

  His eyes sizzle back at mine. I can almost see a spark in the air. He turns his head and focuses on something in front of him. “I was thinking about when I was little, when social services took us away. I remember how she looked at us with dead eyes.” I wait for him to continue, not wanting to do or say something that will make him stop. “I know it was the drugs. I mean, it had to be. But today I thought, God, I was a wreck giving my pig away, and my mom didn’t shed a tear for her own kids.”

  I move closer, wanting to comfort him but feeling torn on what the appropriate thing to do is. You’re his assistant, a voice shrills in my head. Another voice tells it to shut up. You’re his friend, that voice says. Act like one. I’m close enough to reach out and touch him. I place my hand on his arm. “I don’t know much about meth addicts,” I start slowly, softly. “But I have to believe it was the drugs.” His blue eyes are glassy with tears. “I bet if she could do it over, she would. And I bet she would be really proud of you today.” He shakes his head, not believing. “I don’t mean because you’re a movie star, but because of the man you turned out to be.”

  He turns to me but doesn’t say a word. His eyes beam through me, and I try to read what’s in them. My heart starts to race.

  He pulls his gaze from mine and hops off the bed. “Thanks, Jess. It means more than you know.” He starts collecting plates and sets them outside the door. I slide off the bed, grab my purse, and head for the bathroom.

  I take my travel toothbrush from my purse and brush my teeth deliberately. Maybe if I move slowly enough, my heart will resume a healthier pace. I splash water on my face and dab it dry with a red hand towel. I look in the mirror and breathe. “You’ve got this, Jess. It’s just one night,” I whisper.

  I walk out of the bathroom to find Jack wearing only a white T-shirt and boxers.

  “I’m going to try to get some sleep. Is it cool if I take this side of the bed?” he asks.

  “Sure. No problem. I left toothpaste in the bathroom, if you want to use some. Not that you need to. I personally can’t sleep if I don’t brush my teeth, which is why I carry toothpaste in my purse at all times.” Shit. I wish I could at least pretend to sound composed.

  “Thanks.” He moves past me on his way to the bathroom, and I stand by my side of the bed, wondering what the hell I should sleep in. Sleeping in tight jeans sounds impossible. But sleeping in only my undies will be weird. Although, he’s in his underwear. Oh, man. I need to relax. I’m wearing a cotton tank top under my sweater. That’s it. I’ll wear my bra and undies and keep the tank top on. That should be fine.

  I toe off my shoes and scoot them next to the nightstand before wriggling out of my jeans, leaving them in a wad on the floor. In a rush to finish before Jack returns, I yank my sweater up, struggling to get the neck part over my head. Feeling trapped with the heavy cotton pressed up against my face, I shimmy out of it, throwing it down, only to realize I’ve chucked my tank off with it. As I lean to pick it up, Jack clears his throat from where he stands near the bathroom door. I grab for my sweater and clutch it to my chest. “How long have you been standing there?”

  He wears that practiced, neutral face I’ve come to know. I’m sure he’s holding back laughter. “Not long. Do you need some privacy?”

  “Yes. Thanks. As I’m sure you witnessed, I’m mid wardrobe malfunction. Just turn around for a second while I fix this.” He does, and I throw my tank back on and dive under the covers. “Okay. We’re good. Problem solved.”

  He pads to the bed. “That was an awesome little dance you did.” The smile in his voice doesn’t escape me.

  “Shut up.”

  “Just saying.” He pulls down the covers on his side as he moves onto the bed, his weight causing the level of the mattress to shift. And damn him for smelling so good.

  “Jess?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I just wanted to say good night.”

  I turn to face him. “May your dreams be filled with firefighters.”

  “Thanks, but my dreams are better than that.”

  “Fine. I’ll take the firefighter dreams, then. Good night, Jack.” I smile into my pillow as I close my eyes, waiting for him to say more. But there’s only silence. My breathing suddenly sounds too loud, and I flip over. I wonder if he will fall asleep right away, or if he’ll lie awake. The heat from his body warms the bed. I try to pretend he’s not here, but it’s impossible. His leg shifts, and I freeze, thinking it’ll touch mine.

  For exactly fifteen minutes, I force myself to lie still. I know it’s been fifteen minutes, because I counted all the way up to nine hundred alligator. I try to breathe the way sleeping people breathe, but I’m pretty sure it sounds fake. As tired as I am, Jack’s nearness keeps sleep at bay. I watch his back until I finally drift into a fitful slumber.

  The fog of sleep makes my body feel heavy as I fumble to understand my surroundings. My brain stumbles through the day—Leo, wine…Jack. Oh, heavenly, heavenly Jack. His arm is splayed across my side, and our legs are entwined. My heart kicks in and starts beating at an alarming rate. I will it to slow down, wanting to savor the feel of being in his arms.

  This is how it’d feel if we were together. The sensation of his body draped around mine is a sweet type of torture.

  He mumbles in his sleep. I lay perfectly still, not wanting him to move his body from mine. His breath comes out in shallow puffs, and he mumbles again, making me wonder if he’s dreaming.

  He suddenly lifts his head, looking at my face with sleep-blurred eyes. His head lands back on his pillow, and his eyes fall shut. “Jess.”

  Hearing my name whispered from his lips sends my heart into warp speed. I’m certain he can hear the thump, thump, thump of it. His hand finds my face. The tips of his fingers trail to my chin, sending chills through me. He opens his eyes and inches closer. His sweet breath feels warm on my face. He’s so close.

  Not taking his eyes from mine, he erases the space between us and grazes my lips with his. My body reacts with a shudder. The memory of his Halloween night kiss f
loats into my head, and I want to replay it over and over until we’re reenacting it. As if reading my mind, he kisses me slowly, sleepily. It’s dark. Our bodies are sluggish. It makes everything that’s happening okay. I shut off my mind and imbibe in the intoxicating feel of his lips moving across mine. He gently presses his tongue into my mouth, testing, teasing, taunting…making me wild.

  With tender fingers, he brushes my hair back. “So pretty,” he murmurs before landing his lips on mine again. His kisses become hungry, and I press my body into his. He responds greedily, tugging on my lower lip with his teeth as his hands roam across my body.

  When he reaches the bare skin on my hip, it’s like an alarm blares for both of us. We break away, stunned. I’m sure my eyes look as wild as his. “Jess,” he says, his fingers brushing his swollen lips.

  I inch back from him, tucking my fists into the sheets. “I know,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.”

  He sits up and runs his hand through his hair. “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean.” I move to lean against the headboard, hugging my knees to my chest. “We can’t do this.”

  He turns to me, his eyes a mix of vulnerability and something I can’t read. “Why not?”

  Words elude me. I want him so badly. I want him with every breath I take, but he’ll shatter my heart into a million pieces. The thought of being a one-night fling with him hurts worse than never getting to touch him again. I shake my head, unable to look at him.

  “Don’t pretend you didn’t feel it,” he says. “It takes over the whole room.”

  “Yeah. Right now.” I steal a glance at the glowing numbers of the digital clock. “At three o’clock in the morning. But what happens tomorrow when we can’t even look at each other? I can’t do it.” I pause, ignoring the confused look on his face. “Maybe it’s easy for you since you hook up all the time like it’s no big deal.”

  His eyes burn with anger. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You invited me to watch. Remember? I had the pleasure of seeing you and Nichole Antocci make out on set. It made me cry. And now you’re kissing me. Another day, another girl. I can’t be part of that.”

  “That’s my job! It’s not real. You have to understand.” His eyes search mine. “How can I explain it to you?” His eyes are so sincere it makes me want to crawl into his arms. “Okay, let’s say you got hired to do a Twinkie commercial, right?”

  I peer closer at him to see if he’s serious. He doesn’t look like he’s joking, so I nod.

  “And if the director told you to act like it was the best fucking cake you’ve ever tasted, you would do it, because it’s your job, right?”

  “I guess.”

  “But you might spit the Twinkie out when he gets the shot. You might hate the Twinkie.”

  “I won’t eat Twinkies.”

  “Exactly. Because you know there’s something better. You can make something better at home.”

  “And Nichole is the Twinkie?”

  “Yes. Nichole is the Twinkie.”

  “And I’m my own baked good.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you really comparing women to Hostess treats and homemade cake?”

  “No. Yes. Hell, I don’t know. I used cake because I thought you would relate to it. Jess, no one gets me the way you do. Since we’ve met, I’ve laughed more than I have in years. When you walk away, five seconds go by and I miss you. I tried convincing myself that I’d get over these feelings. I tried so fucking hard. But you walk into the room and my world lights up like a fireworks show. I don’t care if I’m not supposed to fall for my assistant. I don’t,” he says, his eyes burning. “I’ve fallen for you, and I can’t stop it. It scares the hell out of me, but I can’t stop it.”

  I feel like I’ve jumped out of an airplane, the wind whooshing past me as I free-fall. My heart races, and I struggle to breathe normally. I dig my nails into my skin, trying to see if I’m really here or if I’m dreaming. Because this can’t be real. But my stinging skin tells me it is.

  “Can you say something?”

  I shake my head. I’ve created this scene in my mind so many times, in so many ways, but now that it’s really happening, I can’t move. I can’t speak. Maybe I’m having a panic attack.

  “You can’t?” he says flatly.

  The raw look on his face does something to me. “I’ve fallen so hard for you, Jack,” I whisper. “I can’t stop it, either.”

  He leans in. “I’m done fighting it. I want to kiss you all fucking night.” His mouth touches my ear. I can’t do anything but attempt a feeble nod. He brushes my jaw with his lips, making me catch my breath.

  “I want you to kiss me again.” I whisper. “Please.”

  His lips crash into mine. There is no hesitancy, only an urgent need as our lips and tongues speak without words. Our bodies press together, moving to the rhythm of our kisses.

  His fingertips trail down my arms, making a slow, sensual path. My body quivers beneath his delicate touch. He takes my hands in his, interlocking our fingers and pushing my arms over my head, leaving me completely vulnerable to him. With the back of his hand, he caresses the tender inside of my arms until he reaches the sides of my breasts. I arch my back, aching for him to touch me there, but he only teases a finger along my sides. I let out a moan so full of desire that I feel like I can’t breathe. He glides a finger to my lips, tracing them lightly, before leaning in to kiss me.

  I grab at his shirt, wanting it off. Understanding my need, he pulls it over his head, letting it fall casually to the floor. Holy hell. I’ve had to pretend I wasn’t looking before, but now I stare unabashedly. He smiles. “You like what you see?”

  “Yeah.” I sigh. “You know you’re driving me crazy, right?”

  “Good. You’ve already driven me crazy, so you’re catching up.” He gazes at me with sexy eyes as he toys with the hem of my shirt. Then he slowly rolls it up, tickling my stomach with kisses as he does. I grab a handful of the red fire truck comforter and squeeze it. His mouth grazes the bottom of my bra. Then he guides me to a sitting position and takes off my shirt, letting it drift to the floor next to his. His eyes rest on me. “Damn.” He links a finger beneath the lacy strap of my bra. “You don’t play fair.”

  We sit facing each other. I let my fingers roam over his stomach, trailing a path across each perfect muscle. “You don’t, either.” He adjusts my legs so they wrap around him, and I graze my hands across his back, memorizing the feel of his smooth skin and taut muscles. He reaches for my face and kisses me, his hands on my cheeks, then in my hair. When they fall to my shoulders, he slowly slides down the straps of my bra.

  “You can take it off if you want. It’s okay.”

  His eyes, fueled with desire, meet mine. “I want to. But we go at your pace. If you get to a point where you want to stop, tell me, okay?”

  I nod, biting my lip.

  “Come here.” He kisses me tenderly on each cheek, on my nose, on my eyelids. “We have all the time in the world. This isn’t one night for me, Jess.”

  I lean my head against his chest, and he wraps his arms around me. My eyes blur with tears. I squeeze them shut and hold onto him. Maybe this is what love feels like.

  He pulls back to look at my face and brushes a thumb under my eye, making my tears disappear. “Tonight we go slow.”

  A smile eases onto my lips. “Semi slow. You’re kind of irresistible.”

  His chest shakes as he laughs. “And you’re fucking sexy. I’m going to kiss you into oblivion.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I wake up, and once again Jack’s body is entwined with mine. I could really get used to this. My stomach flutters. “Good morning.”

  “Yes it is,” he says, pulling me closer. “Have I told you how amazing you are?”

  “Uh, no, not today.” A smile weaves across my face.

  “You’re amazing, Jess.” He touches my lips with a kiss. “And hot.” Kiss. “And wonderful.” Kiss. “An
d I’m crazy about you.” Kiss.

  I giggle. “You can keep doing that all day long if you want.”

  He grins. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

  “Speaking of time. It’s nine thirty. We should probably move.”

  He kisses me again. “Are you up for ordering some breakfast? I’m starving.”

  “Me, too.” I look around the room. “Our last meal here. I kind of like the Fire Room. It’ll always hold a special place in my heart.”

  He laughs. “Mine, too, Jess. Mine, too.”

  After a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, and homemade apple cinnamon muffins, we say our final good-bye to the Fire Room. Jack keeps his head down and hat pulled low as he checks out at the registration desk. I leaf through a magazine on a red plaid sofa in front of a dwindling fire.

  “You ready?” He holds a stuffed dalmatian, exactly like the one that was in our room.

  “What do you have there?”

  He grins. “A little souvenir from our stay. It’s for you.”

  I jump up to hug him and the dog tightly. “I love it! Thank you.” I peck his cheek and take the dog in my arms as we head out the door into the sunshine.

  Bright lights flash in front of us like an explosion. Bodies react, swarming and shouting. There are at least ten of them. Jack’s hand grips my shoulder, and I dive my face into the dog for cover. “Keep your head down,” he hisses. “I’ll get you to the truck, but whatever you do, don’t look at them.”

  “Jack! Jack! Who is she? Jack, look over here!” A chorus of voices shouts while the cameras flash like strobe lights. We shuffle through the clawing hands, and I’m reminded of the haunted house someone dared me to go through one Halloween. It’s hard not to look up, but I know Jack has me. His body is tense, and I’m pretty certain he would be firing off some choice words if I weren’t next to him.