Accidental Texting: Finding Love despite the Spotlight

by Kimberly Montague

  He picked his cell phone up off the bed. "Almost noon."

  "I should call Manny and check in on the inn." I turned to leave and remembered I had no phone. "Is there a phone here?" He held his cell phone out to me. I stared at it like it was a snake. "I don't want to—"

  "Don't make a big deal out of it, sweetie. Call whoever you need to call. I'm gonna take a shower." I took the phone from him, and he walked into the bathroom.

  When I heard the water running, I found it really difficult not to peek. With the clear glass walls of the shower, it'd be easy to get a glimpse of his naked body. But I still didn't know where we stood or where I wanted to be standing. He'd been so great with all the Brent stuff, but I just didn't know. I decided the best thing to do was sit with my back to the bathroom and call Manny.

  It turned out that Sean was right. The photographers had dwindled in my absence. When Sean's crew left, they followed, and most of them didn't return. Manny agreed with Cerise that if I stayed away as much as possible, they would leave the inn alone. I had to finally give in. We were trying to decide what to do about everything I had to handle if I wasn't physically there when Sean emerged from the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Talk about giving my heart a kick start. He had to have the sexiest abs alive… well, obviously, Morgan, I thought to myself. I mean, he had been in millions of magazines as one of the sexiest, most handsome men in America for years. And here he was trying to win me back. Maybe I was being a moron.

  "What? Oh, sorry, Manny, I just—got distracted." Sean turned around and raised his eyebrow at me. I forced myself to look away from him. "No, there aren't any computers here."

  Sean held his towel around his waist and turned to me. "I'm fixing that today."

  "Hold on, Manny." I put the phone to my chest. "What do you mean?"

  "I'm a tech geek, sweetie. There aren't enough toys in this house. If you need a computer here, you'll have plenty to choose from." I widened my eyes at that. He was just going to go out and pick up a few like they were bottles of soda.

  I pulled the phone back to my ear. "Uh, I guess there will be computers here soon. And internet?" I repeated the question Manny asked and Sean nodded. "Okay then. So have Cerise call me when she gets in, and I'll have her load up all my files onto my thumb drive and bring my notebooks over." Manny said something but Sean had dropped his towel and pulled on a pair of boxer briefs, successfully pulling all the air from my lungs. I turned my head away from him when I heard him chuckling. "Well if you need me, call Annalisa and she can tell Stewie—"

  Sean walked over to stand in front of me, and it was really tough to look him in the eye instead of at—well—it was just tough to look him in the eye. "Just tell him to call my number," he said matter-of-factly. "It'll be easier that way."

  "Hang on, Manny." I put the phone back to my chest. "That's not very convenient for you. You probably get a lot of phone calls, I—"

  "Morgan. You're being a pain. It's not a big deal. Just tell him to call my phone."

  I rolled my eyes. I was not a pain. "Manny? Just call this number, okay? I'll talk to you later. And thanks, Manny." I hung up and handed Sean his phone then walked to the door.

  "Morgan?" I stopped but didn't turn back around. He walked up behind me, and wrapped his arms around my waist. His skin was so warm, and he smelled so unbelievably good. "I need you to let me help. You can't do all this on your own, love. And it's my fault you can't, so let me help. Please?"

  I nodded and pulled away before I lost all strength of mind and attacked him. I seriously needed to get some self control.

  Back in the confines of my own room, I was able to breathe a little more easily. I sat for a while, staring out the window at the falling snow and just tried to let go of the tension in my body. My world felt so up in the air that it was tough to imagine where it was all going to land. When my stomach growled again, I gave up on my window and hopped in the shower.

  The water heater in the house must have been top-of-the-line. I was nice and prune-like by the time I'd washed and conditioned my hair, shaved, and just enjoyed the warm water beating against my shoulders. I felt a lot better—more human again. With a towel wrapped around me, I dried my hair and put on a little mascara and eye-liner. Satisfied with seeing a healthier looking me in the mirror, I went back to the bedroom to familiarize myself with the whereabouts of my clothes. I located my jeans, my socks, even a pair of my favorite gloves, but still hadn't found my underwear when someone knocked on my door.

  With a house full of guys, I was smart enough to ask, "Who is it?"

  "It's Sean. I have something that will make you very happy."

  Standing there in only a towel, remembering his incredible body in similar clothing made me think of exactly what would make me really happy. But I shook my head and cleared it from my mind. I opened the door a little, letting it block my body.

  "Can I come in for a minute?"

  "Uh—well—"

  "Just a minute." He smiled and slid through the small opening I'd left, walking into the room. "So, Troy went into town this morning/" I closed the door behind him and locked it, not wanting any other guests to follow him. "And he got you—" He turned around, and his jaw dropped open. The way he stared at me made my whole body feel alive and tingly. "Jesus, Morgan." He shook his head at me. The intensity in his eyes caught me a little off guard. I guess I wasn't the only one who was having trouble controlling the attraction between us.

  "I just—got out of the shower," I stammered.

  He ran his hand through his hair and sat down on the edge of my bed. "I can see that." He looked at the floor and put his hand over his eyes. "Uh—Troy—I asked him to replace your phone. He went this morning—"

  I stepped closer to him, putting my feet in the location he was staring at on the floor.

  "He—uh—when—" His eyes started at my feet and moved slowly, inch by inch, up my body all the way to connect with my eyes. "Can you put a robe on or something? Flannel pajamas maybe?"

  I smirked at him and shook my head.

  "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

  "You enjoyed dropping your towel earlier, didn't you?"

  "Oh, God, please tell me you're gonna drop that towel." I shook my head slowly at him. "Okay, here's your phone." He shoved it at me and went toward the door in a hurry. "I gotta go."

  "Sean?" He let his head drop against the door with a loud thud. "I can't find my panties." He smacked his head against the door a couple times, and I giggled. "Where did you unpack them?"

  "Damn, I should have hid them all," he mumbled just loud enough for me to hear. I laughed. He turned around and walked close to me, staring me in the eyes as he reached down and opened a drawer in the dresser I was standing next to. He kept his eyes on me as his hand searched the drawer. His lips pulled into a taut grin as he stood up straight, dangling a black lace thong from his fingers. "Here you go." I rolled my eyes at him and snatched the panties from him. "Do you want me to get the matching bra for you as well?"

  "You went through my underwear?"

  The smallest bit of light pink tinged his cheeks, but he continued to grin at me. "Can you really blame me?" I rolled my eyes again and pulled on the panties as he watched. "They aren't nearly as interesting without you in them." He reached out his hand, and I felt his fingers touch the skin on my thigh. "Can I see them?" I swatted at his hand, and his shoulders slumped, his chin dropping to his chest. "You're such a tease."

  "It's not that, Sean. I just—I don't know—"

  He pressed his finger to my lips. His eyes were so warm but there was sadness there, too. "I've got all the time in the world, love." He looked down at the drawer and pulled out my matching bra. "But I did want to talk to you about what's happening today." I took the bra, and he turned his back to me as I pulled it on and readjusted the towel to cover myself. "I'm going shopping, and I think—don't take this the wrong way—but I think you should stay here."

  He didn't want me going with hi
m? "Can you explain why?"

  He turned around again and seemed tentative as he scratched the back of his head. "I just… don't really think you handle money well."

  I handled money very well. I'd somehow managed to budget myself wisely enough to keep the inn going when others would have had to fold. I always saved extra money. I was excellent with money.

  "I'm not normal," he explained. "When I want to have fun, I can't go to Disneyland or go see the sights. I'm really stuck in the confines of my own home or on my own land where I can't be photographed or chased after."

  I nodded to show I understood what he meant. It had to be weird not to be able to do anything normal.

  He continued, "So I have to buy some things for the house to entertain myself and the guys." I nodded again. None of this told me why he didn't want me with him. "I'm going to spend an ass-load of money today, Morgan. I know how you feel about that, and I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I also—your opinion means the most to me. I don't want you to look down on me for doing it. I give a lot of money to all different kinds of charities and help out when I can, but I spend a lot of money on myself and my friends and family. I don't want to feel bad about that."

  I stared at the floor. "And I make you feel bad about spending money." It was a statement and not a question. My reaction to anything money-related had been pretty self-righteous. "I never meant—"

  "No. I know. If I were you, I would react the same way. And I love you for how you freak out about my money. It just shows me you're here for me. But I need to enjoy what I've worked for, what I've sacrificed my privacy and freedom for."

  "I won't judge you, Sean. I understand what you're saying, especially seeing it firsthand. But I don't mind staying here. I'm okay with—"

  A phone started ringing, and I turned to the phone I'd thrown on my bed. Picking it up, I recognized Alvin's number. "It's Alvin."

  "Answer it," Sean said evenly.

  "No." I thought back to his reaction to me talking to Floyd. "I don't know what he wants, and I don't think I should—"

  "Morgan, I'm fine with you talking to him—really. Answer it, and I'll talk to you when you come downstairs."

  I picked up the phone, but it was newer and more complicated than my old piece of junk phone. "Sean, I don't know how." He took the phone from me and slid his finger across the touch screen before handing it back.

  "Hello?"

  "Morgan. I've been trying to call you since yesterday. Why haven't you answered the phone?" Sean reached the door, but I put my hand on his back. He turned around, and I mouthed the word "Stay." He shook his head.

  "Alvin, hang on a sec." I put my hand over the end of the phone.

  "You need your privacy, Morgan."

  "I want you to hear what I'm saying to him. I want you to trust me."

  He put his hands on my upper arms. "I do trust you. You don't need to prove yourself. I need to prove myself to you. Talk to your friend then come downstairs." He kissed my forehead.

  "No." I grabbed onto his arm. "I want you to stay. I'm asking you to stay because I want you here." If he was calling to talk about Brent, I knew I'd want Sean next to me. "I don't know what he's going to say," I mumbled. "I might—need you."

  He sighed and closed his eyes, but then nodded and walked over to sit at my window seat.

  "Sorry, Alvin. My phone had an unfortunate accident. I just got another one."

  "A what?"

  "I threw it against the wall," I admitted.

  "Why would you do that?"

  "I was pissed when I got your text message about Brent being in town."

  "I'm sorry, Morgan. I just thought it would be better if you were prepared for it."

  "No, I appreciate you telling me," I said sincerely. "I just—it was a lot to take in—and there's just been too much going on."

  "So is it true then?"

  "Is what true?" But I already knew what he was asking about.

  "You were dating Sean Wilder? Like the Sean Wilder?"

  "Yes, I was dating him—I still am, actually." Sean's eyes darted up to mine hopefully.

  "What are you thinking, Morgan?" His voice got higher and louder, and Sean's jaw clenched. "He's a movie star. He doesn't live in our world."

  "Yes, he does. He's not like you think. He's down-to-earth and sweet."

  "I do not want to hear this!"

  "Well then why did you call, Alvin?" He made me angry. He still couldn't put the friend hat on.

  "I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

  "I am, and I appreciate you worrying about me."

  "Just—Morgan, I just want to know—did you care about me?"

  Did I care about him? Of course I did, but not in the way he'd wanted. "Yes, I cared about you. I still do, Alvin." Sean turned to the side, putting his feet up on the window seat, and stared out. I felt awful that I'd made him stay to hear this, but maybe that was a good thing. "But I was selfish. I wasn't in love with you, and I knew you were in love with me."

  "I knew you weren't in love with me, Morgan. It was obvious. I hoped you would start, though." He sounded so sad.

  I felt awful all over again for how I'd treated him. "I'm sorry, Alvin. I really am. I think it would have been easier too if I'd loved you. And I hope we can be friends again someday."

  "I'm okay. I was—it hurt, but I'm okay. I don't want to lose you. If friendship is all that's there, at least we've got that. Does that mean we can hang out sometime?"

  "Sure, we can hang out—watch reruns of Saturday Night Live and throw popcorn at each other." SNL was our thing. We'd watch the current episodes on my DVR whenever our schedules worked together.

  "I'd like that. How about now?"

  "Alvin," I warned.

  "What? Are you busy tonight?"

  "No. I just think today is too soon." Sean stood up and walked over to me, nodding. He waved at me, trying to get my attention. "Hey, sorry, but can you hang on another second?"

  "Sure."

  I put my hand over the phone and looked up at Sean.

  "Have him come over today, Morgan. I'll be gone anyway, and I really don't want to leave you here alone with just Anthony to keep you company."

  "Anthony's staying with me?" My eyes fell to the floor. "Can't Nathan—"

  "No. But we'll talk about that in a minute. Invite Alvin over so you won't be lonely."

  "I don't think it's a good idea."

  He sat back down. "Because of him or because of me?"

  I looked him directly in the eye. "Both."

  "Oh." He put both hands to his face then looked up at me again. "Look, I can't prove to you that I won't screw up unless you let me. I'm guessing the same goes for him." He had a point. If I was ever going to get past what happened with both guys, I had to put them to the test.

  "Okay." My voice was certainly less than enthused.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes before looking up with a wide smile. "Good. It's settled then."

  I put the phone back to my ear. "Alvin, today would be fine if you're willing to drive a bit."

  Sean stayed in the room while I gave Alvin directions and said goodbye to him. I had no idea what was going to happen, but I was definitely a little worried about it.

  Trying to Figure You Out

  Sean watched me dress in a pair of skinny blue jeans, knee-high black boots (with low heels due to my sore ankle) and a charcoal wrap-around sweater. He declared I was too sexy to leave the house, but since I was staying in, I told him it would be fine. Besides, it wasn't anything I didn't normally wear, he just hadn't had the opportunity to see me in too many outfits. Downstairs, Sean pulled me into the kitchen and refused to let me leave until he'd made me lunch. It was still a little strange to see him cooking, but he looked really good in the kitchen—like he enjoyed being there. Anthony came to sit next to me on a stool at the counter overlooking the kitchen. I was really worried about how he would treat me, and I was really embarrassed about the previous night. He was qui
et for a while, and we just listened to Sean doing his imitation of a cooking show complete with a snooty British accent.

  When Sean was quiet for a few minutes, I finally worked up the nerve to lean closer to Anthony. "I'm sorry I freaked out on you last night. I—I didn't—"

  "No. No apologies. That was out of your control. I'm just sorry I didn't know. I was being pushy, but I hope you don't think I meant to—"

  "No," I interrupted. "You didn't do anything wrong. It was all me."

  "Well since we both did nothing wrong, let's blame that prick Brent and let it go."

  I gave him a small smile. "I can agree to that."

  "Good. So are we going shopping with them? It's quite the freaking sight. You should really see it." Sean shook his head at Anthony but went back to cooking some delicious smelling chicken on the indoor grill. "No shopping? Huh. I thought all girls liked to shop."

  "I like to shop, but I'm not—it's hard to adjust to Sean's lifestyle. I'm not used to this yet."

  Anthony looked up at Sean, who was staring at him. It was like they were sharing a secret conversation. "Hmmm… weird."

  My curiosity got the best of me. "What makes it such a sight to see?"

  Anthony turned back to me. "Well he can't go shopping like a normal person—too many sightings then the autograph-hounds kick in, and we have to leave. So we all dress alike with hooded sweatshirts, baseball caps, and sunglasses sometimes, depending on where we are. Stew—he's the master of the whole show—he walks in and asks for the manager on duty. He tells him he's gonna lay down a lot of dough in the store that day, if and only if, he can keep his vultures at bay. If any salespeople approach Stew or the guys with him, he'll split and not spend a dime. Then he goes out to the car and chills for a few minutes so the manager can get his minions in line. We go in with our hats on and shop for everything we need. They load it up, and we split. It's beautiful really. Worked it out over the years—took some trial and error."

  "That's actually pretty impressive."

  "I know—Sean's idea—and Stew's. Gotta have Stew or it would never work. I don't think they'd buy into any of it if it weren't for him. He's got that honest face, you know?"