Only Once: A Single Parent- Hollywood Romance

by Ashley Munoz

  “You clearly are,” he snapped, interrupting me.

  “I’m not. I just want you to understand that I have to toe this line.”

  He searched my face for something before dropping his voice to a whisper. “Why do you need to toe it…why do you care? And who says I even care what kind of girl you are? I’m not trying to date you.”

  I closed my eyes tight, pushing past the sting of hearing him say that. I knew he wasn’t. Deep down, I knew hanging out with me and the kids was just some strange phase he was in. The ex-girlfriend, single mother…he was trying it out, but he wasn’t here to stay. I dug deep for the courage to say what I needed to.

  We aren’t anything to each other, so it doesn’t matter…

  “Trust me, I know you aren’t trying to date me.” I narrowed my gaze.

  I stepped closer to him, needing him to truly hear me.

  “I have to toe that line for the girl who once planned a future with you, the one who loved you so intensely, so fully she had an entire Pinterest board full of wedding ideas, future house plans, and kids names. She’s still in there somewhere, and she’d never let me sleep in the same bed as one of your ex-lovers.”

  We stood in silence as my truth lingered between us. His eyes softened to a gentle cyan blue, the stormy anger now subdued as he considered my confession.

  “Fine, if that’s what you really want.” He stood watching me for a second longer before pushing past me into the hall.

  I silently followed him, crossing my arms, wanting to hold in the strange hurt that was beginning to bloom in my chest.

  He stopped at a closet, pulled it open, and grabbed a clear bag of bedding off the top shelf.

  “Here, I can make it.” I held my hands out.

  “You’re my guest, Bex…let me set it up for you.” Ryan walked past me, his warm presence both soothing and suffocating.

  Not wanting to push him any more tonight, I merely nodded and followed after him. The soft glow of the television cast a little light in the room, guiding our way to the massive sectional couch.

  I stood there awkwardly while Ryan opened the bag and pulled all the bedding out. Shaking out the fitted sheet, he began to wrap the edges around the cushions with jerky and aggressive movements.

  “You ever stop to wonder why I have so many fuck-buddies, as you called them?” His sharp tone cut through the stifling awkwardness. “You ever think about why I won’t settle down, or why I rotate women, living my life completely unattached?” He grabbed the top blanket and angrily shook it until it was straightened over the sheet.

  My throat was tight and uncomfortable. I didn’t want to reflect on any of the things he’d mentioned. I didn’t want to find the root of why Ryan had turned out the way he had, because I knew where the root started. I knew the origin story to his dysfunctional relationship issues, and I still hated myself for it.

  He stood, fixing the pillows on top, and then glared at me. Hands at his waist, chest heaving, he turned his anger on me.

  “You ruined me, Bex, ruined me, and you have the audacity to stand there and judge me for my lifestyle? Judge me for having different women I sleep with because I still can’t wrap my brain around settling down with anyone but you?”

  “Ryan, I—”

  “No, just listen.” He closed his eyes, flaring his nostrils. “All these years, I thought of what I would say to you if I saw you again. I thought maybe this life, this fame I had now…the money, that it would make you…” He shook his head, clenching that granite jaw, and I …I was fighting back tears.

  “That it would make me regret leaving you?” I responded in a hoarse whisper.

  Ryan kept his head down, but I didn’t miss the subtle way he gently nodded.

  “All this”—I waved my hand around the room—“only makes me want distance from you. I regretted leaving you the moment I did it. I haven’t…” I searched his chest for the words I was looking for. I didn’t want to tell him I’d been waiting or pining, or say I wouldn’t commit to Logan because of him. It wouldn’t be fair, but why did he care about this anymore anyway? He had more than moved on with his life.

  “Look, you’ll just have to trust me. I regretted leaving you…but at the same time I didn’t. I wanted you to have your dream, and after that night, I realized I wasn’t it.”

  “You didn’t give me time to realize anything,” he said through clenched teeth, his eyes cold and unrelenting.

  “I told you I was pregnant…if your first response wasn’t to pull me into your arms and tell me how happy you were then that was answer enough. No amount of time was going to change that, and it wasn’t my place to force that on you.” My tone rose slightly as I spoke.

  “I was twenty fucking years old!” he seethed.

  “So was I and I loved you! You were my dream, that baby was my dream…but I…”

  “So, what, I’m the bad guy because I had a dream outside of just you?” Ryan’s voice shuddered just the slightest bit, and I hated that we were doing this.

  I hated fighting with him.

  “No, it’s just…”

  “What then? Because it’s shitty of you to pin that on me. You talk about all this first choice and second choice bullshit, but guess what? The world doesn’t revolve around you, Bex. You can’t be with someone because you aren’t first on their list? Tough shit. Grow up.” He stepped back, running his hand through his hair manically. His chest heaved up and down with heavy breaths.

  Mine barely moved in response, frozen from the inside out by what he’d said. I had to remember that he didn’t know the scars he’d just run that blade over and why it was so tender. He had no idea how deep that pool of pain went, so I couldn’t exactly hold it against him.

  But still…

  “Fuck you, Ryan.” I stepped around him. “I didn’t pin anything on you.” I angrily tore the pillow out of his hand.

  “Then what were you doing? Because that’s exactly how it felt.” He eyed the pillow I’d just snagged with an icy stare.

  “I didn’t want that for my life. I didn’t want to be someone’s second choice. I didn’t want to be the greatest regret in your life, and if you had given up football for me, I would have been. So, call it what you want, but I stand by my decision to leave!” I yelled back, my accent peeking through, making me want to cry for entirely different reasons.

  I hated the place that had made me who I was. Fucking hated it.

  “Well, for the record…it didn’t end up making a difference…” He trailed off then turned in a slow circle, bringing his hands to his waist. “It turned out I couldn’t have football if I didn’t have you. I remember every single game, I’d check the stands for you. I know that’s stupid because I couldn’t see much anyway, but I still did it. Every game. I always wondered if you’d see me on television and come find me. But you never did, and that day I got injured…up on the kiss cam, they’d shown this woman who looked so much like you, and it messed with me. Had me wondering if it was you and you could have just changed that much in a year. I wasn’t paying attention and the next thing I know, I was getting tackled the wrong way.”

  Oh shit.

  My college-aged heart squeezed tight at the image, at how painful that hit must have been.

  I took a step closer, putting my hand on his bicep. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I was trying to protect my heart, and in the process, I obliterated yours. I don’t know how to fix it…or if it even matters anymore, but I want you to know that I do regret hurting you. I wish it could have been different for us both.”

  His fingers wrapped around mine, tugging me until I was flush against his chest. Those massive arms banded around my back, holding me in place as he tucked me under his chin.

  “It still matters, Bex. It will always matter.”

  I inhaled his scent, trying so hard to keep my emotions tucked away from this moment.

  “Bexley?” he rumbled, soft and dark.

  “Mhmmm,” I responded, still not able to speak for fear of
sobbing.

  “Why does your ex hate me so much?”

  I opened my eyes; I’d shut them to enjoy the soft feel of his skin against my face and the warmth from his body. “What do you mean?”

  “That day I showed up to give you that coffee…he was there, and he seemed strangely hostile toward me. I’ve been trying to figure out why. I assume he knows I’m your ex, but even so, we haven’t had any contact for ten years. Why would he be that angry at me?”

  I leaned back so I could catch his expression; his features were soft, careful…curious.

  I licked my lips, trying to think of the right words to say, but I came up empty. There wasn’t any way in this entire world that I wanted to explain why Logan hated him so much; it would freak him out.

  “How about I offer a deal?” I stepped back and brought my hands up in a pleading fashion.

  Ryan quirked a brow.

  “I’ll come sleep in that massive bed of yours if we can drop this topic.”

  Ryan let out a laugh like he thought I was hilarious but sobered a few seconds later.

  “You’re serious?”

  “I am.”

  His eyes moved back and forth over my face, trying to figure me out. My stomach pitched with raw emotion over how dangerous an idea this was, but the second Ryan gently nodded his head, I ignored it.

  Turning on my heel, I walked toward my ex boyfriend’s bedroom, preparing my heart to sleep in the same bed with him.

  17

  The early morning sun crept in along the far wall of the room, lighting up the space one inch at a time. I loved this time of day here at the resort, especially when I was out for a run, coming up the butte where the sun crested just over the ridge.

  But here in this room, watching Bexley sleep in my bed, a white sheet wrapped around her waist, her bare foot nearly hanging off the side and that hair going in every direction, it was pure magic.

  I’d been awake for an hour just watching her sleep, wondering at this growing sensation splitting me open. Was it just that I had a history with her? Or was there something new?

  I’d wondered a thousand times already this morning what it would feel like if I traced the lines along her back, only to go lower and feel the smooth curve of her ass. Only, that would encourage me to go even lower, dipping my fingers into her. I shut my eyes, imagining she was wet for me, and how I’d let my fingers trace a line along her smooth entrance. I imagined her pressing into me, shoving that round ass into my erection, her arms going up and around my neck, that sultry moan erupting from those luscious lips.

  Goddamn. I gripped my furious erection while I suppressed a groan. This was too much. Why had I invited her in here?

  Because I missed her and I can’t seem to stop missing her, no matter how hard I try.

  Was she feeling anything like this at all? How much had she changed in ten years? She had always woken up horny as fuck in the past…was that still a thing? I carefully lifted my head, turning it to see if I could glean anything from her face, and then my phone went off with a string of texts. Thankfully the volume was muted enough to prevent Bex from waking up, but it still had me reaching briskly to silence it.

  Carefully, I untangled the sheets from around me and silently walked out of the room while I willed my body to calm down. Looking down at my phone, I expected to see my producer’s name, but it was my agent who’d texted. Once I was downstairs, I started the coffee and dialed his number.

  “Ryan, you got my texts?” my agent yelled into the phone excitedly.

  “Jerry, I’m on vacation,” I deadpanned, eyeing the fridge for breakfast ideas. Maybe I could take Bex and the kids out to a nice pancake house.

  “I know, but this couldn’t wait,” Jerry said with more enthusiasm.

  I grabbed the plastic coffee pod and pushed it into the coffee maker while listening to his explanation.

  “Shelly Cambria wants to set up a dinner with you, over there in Oregon, to see if you two can discuss this next film project.”

  Fucking hell.

  Letting out a groan of frustration, I threw my head back while rubbing at my eye.

  “I’m pretty sure this could have waited, Jerry.”

  “How could it wait if it directly affects your current schedule?”

  Ignoring the tone of his voice, I pushed on. “If Shelly wants to meet with me, she can wait until I’m off vacation.”

  I angrily eyed the back window, suddenly agitated by everything.

  “Don’t do this to me, Ryan. Come on, you know what this could do for your image, not to mention the film’s—”

  “I don’t give a shit!” I cut him off with a roar, wincing immediately after. I’d forgotten there were two kids in my house. Lowering my voice, I tried to rein in my ire. “Jerry, this isn’t my film. It’s not my budget, and my ass isn’t on the line. Hell, it’s not even your film—why do you care about it? We have contracts for this reason.”

  I tried to relax, feeling protective of my boundaries. One thing about the movie business was the eagerness and desire to be wanted. I knew it wouldn’t last forever; it was a tidal wave I wanted to ride as long as I could before becoming irrelevant, and these assholes knew it too. They toyed with us, used us against each other, and never respected our wishes. I’d never spoken up like this before. I’d never resisted anything they threw at me, always going with the flow and being noticeably agreeable so directors would want to work with me and top actors wouldn’t get dramatic when they saw my name on a script.

  But I’d had enough.

  Especially because it was Shelly Cambria of all people that they were pulling this with.

  A beat of dead air passed as I waited for Jerry to respond. Sipping my coffee, I let him do what he wanted with my response, feeling liberated by the lack of concern I felt.

  “Okay, buddy, let’s just relax, and maybe we can revisit the topic in a few days. When are you back?”

  I watched as a doe and her two babies carefully walked up to the side of the house, nibbling at the flowers and plants. I hated even considering going back, because going back would mean all this would end. It would be over…again.

  “The end of the month.” I clenched my back molars together.

  “Okay, I’ll be in touch around then. You know Grant is a good friend of mine—that’s the only reason I’m so excited about this project—but you’re my guy. I have your back no matter what, okay?”

  Dipping my eyes to scan the floor, I admitted that I did understand that. I did. Jerry was a good guy at his core, and it wasn’t his fault I was feeling like this. I just…I needed some time to piece it together.

  “Talk to you soon, Jerry.”

  I hung up, grinding my teeth together again, feeling the weight of the past seep into my present, unsure if I wanted to allow the two to coexist.

  “So, how did you sleep?” I flipped a pancake, eyeing the tiny five-year-old and her wild curls. Bella rubbed at her eye while trying to focus on me.

  “Good. I dweamed that Mommy was a pwincess.”

  I flicked my gaze up to Bexley while I continued to flip pancakes. Still sipping her coffee, she studied something on her phone. Some place deep inside me was fearful that she was reading an article about me. My stomach dropped as I imagined her reaction to seeing me photographed, no doubt caught in some compromising position with someone, because I was always with someone. She’d just been exposed to my make-out session with Henna, something I wouldn’t want to witness myself if the tables were turned. Suddenly my life wasn’t something I wanted Bexley exposed to.

  “Yeah, well your momma is a princess—did you know that?” I joked, bouncing my gaze from Bella to her mother. I saw the smallest smile stretch along Bexley’s mouth while her eyes remained trained on her phone.

  “Reawy?” Bella asked.

  I grinned, plating her breakfast and pouring her a glass of milk. “Yep. Once upon a time, I was a frog—until your mother kissed me and I turned into a prince.”

  Bexley sc
offed, quickly covering her mouth with her hand. Bella giggled, making the same movement with her hand over her mouth. The identical gestures took me somewhere I shouldn’t have gone, a place I had been diligent not to visit.

  What would it be like if Bella was ours…not his, but ours?

  “Mommy, show us!” Bella yelled as Cole entered the room, rubbing his left eye socket with the palm of his hand.

  “Yeah Mom, show us…whatever it is Bell is talking about.”

  I stared at Bexley, spatula in hand, while a stack of warm pancakes cooled in front of me. What would it be like to have Bexley’s lips on mine again? Would her body press into mine? Would she keep distance between us?

  She gave her kids a tight smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes, which meant she wouldn’t even entertain the idea.

  Right.

  “So, what’s on the agenda today?” I changed the topic, dipping my head so I didn’t have to see the way her eyes looked in the sunlight currently streaming through the skylights.

  “Well…we should probably head out soon.” Bexley’s voice teetered with uncertainty, which confused me. Up until now, she’d been so certain of her steps regarding me; even if she caved, she’d still sounded sure of herself.

  “Guys, eat up. We need to go check in on Shay.” She pushed Cole’s hair away from his forehead as he dug into his pancake.

  “Why do we need to check on Aunt Shay?” Cole asked, narrowing his eyes at his mother.

  “We just do,” Bexley lightly quipped.

  Translation: she wanted to get away from me. I didn’t care to address how that made me feel.

  “Well, you guys have fun today. Bex, when do you work again? Maybe I can help with the kids.” I hated being in this position. I had no claim to them, and yet I felt like an estranged family member begging their mother for scraps of time.

  “I’ll have to check my schedule…I think I work tomorrow, but I could be wrong. I know Logan gets them next week though.”