Stuck Landing

by Lauren Gallagher

  Why was this so . . .

  “Oh God.” I touched my forehead to the desk and squeezed my eyes shut.

  “I almost called you last night,” she whispered in my ear. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

  I bit my lip. “Same. Fuck.”

  “Is that what you wanted to talk about?” she breathed. “How soon we could do this again?”

  No, but close enough. Because, oh God, don’t stop.

  Her fingers hit my G-spot, and my own fingers worked my clit, and I . . .

  I was . . .

  “You’re so close,” she whispered. “I can feel it.” She leaned down, and her breath brushed my ear as she whispered, “Don’t hold back.”

  I didn’t hold back. I couldn’t have if I’d wanted to.

  With just enough presence of mind left to stay silent, to not announce this amazing release to the rest of the cast and crew, I pulled in a breath, buried my face in my arm, and just . . . fucking . . . shattered.

  Somehow, when the dust settled and my vision cleared, my office was still standing. The walls hadn’t fallen over like cheap sets after a harsh wind, revealing us and our sins to our colleagues outside.

  My scripts and paperwork were scattered at our feet along with the rumpled clothes pooled around my ankles. My head was spinning, with no tequila to blame this time, and the AC was still humming and clicking as if the entire universe hadn’t just been flipped on its head.

  The building was still standing and, to some degree, so was I.

  Natalya kissed the side of my neck. Then she slipped her fingers free and let me go. I pushed myself up on shaking arms. Once I was sure the floor wouldn’t tilt out from under me, I turned around and leaned against my desk, still dizzy and out of breath.

  I started clumsily fixing my clothes but didn’t get very far because I locked eyes with Natalya, and she picked just that moment to suck her fingers into her mouth and slowly pull them free.

  “Tonight,” she whispered with a grin, “you can return the favor.”

  “I . . .” I gulped. After a second, I nodded. “O-okay.”

  She winked.

  And then she was gone.

  And I stood there, legs shaking and mouth watering, in the middle of the wreckage that had been stacked scripts and papers a few minutes ago.

  What the hell just happened?

  I shook myself and continued straightening my clothes. As good as my body felt, I should’ve been grinning and giddy, but something didn’t sit quite right. Yeah, fooling around with her had been hot. A million fantasies coming true all over again.

  But hadn’t I called her in here to talk?

  Right. Just like I’d invited her over to my place to commune over tequila and the bullshit that came with shitty relationships. Maybe that had been my intent, but it had gone right out the window the second she’d kissed me. Like her kiss had broken a spell that bound me to being responsible and mature—she’d freed me, turned me into a woman who wanted nothing more than to turn her on. How could I say no?

  And if she walked back in here and wanted to do it again, well, I didn’t see myself resisting then either. With that orgasm still tingling between my legs and throughout my entire body, the thought of saying no was simply out of the question. Return the favor? Oh yes. Yes, I would. More than once, if she’d let me.

  All my reservations and worries tugged at the edges of my consciousness, but I pushed them aside as best I could. Alone in my office, I picked up my papers, dropped them on my desk, and even managed to put myself back together. More or less, anyway. My hands were unsteady as I tamed a few strands of hair. I balanced a compact mirror in one hand, and almost regretted wearing as little makeup as I did, because I didn’t have some complicated smoky eye or contouring to repair. At least that would’ve been something to hold my focus while my knees stopped trembling and my heart stopped racing.

  A quiet knock startled me. “Anna?” Jeremy asked through the door.

  “Come on in.”

  He pushed open the door and stepped inside. “I’m not intruding?” An odd smile played at his lips. Or maybe I was imagining it. After all, God only knew how much he’d heard.

  Heat rushed into my cheeks, and I concentrated on my reflection in the shaky little mirror. How much had he heard?

  Or . . . Oh Jesus. I would not put it past Natalya to wink at him and say, “Give her a minute,” before walking off.

  She hadn’t. Had she?

  Jeremy didn’t say anything, though. In his usual seat, he crossed one leg over the other and started thumbing through something on his phone. Good. Good. Maybe we hadn’t been as obvious—or loud!—as I’d thought. Levi and Carter would likely catch on eventually, but flying under my bodyguard’s radar was a plus.

  I met my gaze in the tiny mirror. Yep. The world was still intact. No one knew. Natalya and I could and would talk later. It was a mistake, but maybe not such a catastrophic—

  “Fishing off the company pier, are we?”

  I dropped my compact, jumping when it clattered on my desk. “Huh?”

  He eyed me over his phone and chuckled. “Do I look like I was born yesterday?”

  “Not with all that gray, no.”

  He flipped me the bird.

  Shifting my weight, I eyed him. “So, you, um . . .”

  “Like I said . . .” He sat up and put his phone facedown on his leg. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Relax, though. I’m just busting your chops.”

  “I know you are, but . . .” I gnawed my lip.

  Jeremy waved a hand. “You know what? It’s good to see you getting involved with someone else. Take it from someone who knows: there is such a thing as waiting way too long to move on from a relationship that went on too long.”

  I nodded. “Except she’s a coworker.”

  He shrugged. “Meh.”

  I gestured sharply at him. “Not a word, okay?”

  Laughing, he put up his hands. “Who would I tell? Scott?”

  “Okay, fine. But . . .” My heart should’ve sunk. My shoulders should’ve tightened at the thought of all the reasons I’d brought her in here in the first place. But all I could think of were all the reasons I wished she’d come back in.

  “Anna.” He inclined his head. “Why are you so worked up over this?”

  “I’m not worked up.”

  The arched eyebrow called bullshit.

  I exhaled. “Okay, I . . . look, it’s not because of me and Leigh splitting up. I’m just not sure about . . .” The argument about dating a coworker died on my lips. Carter and Levi had already deconstructed that one and shot down all my reservations, apart from the fact that she worked for me. And even that seemed to get weaker the more I thought about it. We were both professionals. There was no reason to believe we couldn’t stay that way just because we’d seen each other naked.

  Softly, I added, “She just broke up with someone.”

  Someone. Her boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. A man.

  I shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, I’m not sure I want to be someone’s rebound, you know?”

  Jeremy nodded. “Yeah, I get that. But if you both want the same thing, then what’s the harm?”

  Okay. Fair point. And though I hadn’t had the opportunity to ask Natalya what she wanted from me, she was making it pretty clear every time we were alone.

  Sighing, I shrugged. “I don’t even know what we’re doing yet. I’ll talk to her later. For now, I really need to skim through this script before I meet with the writers.”

  Jeremy studied me, but then he shrugged too and sat back in his chair again. As he resumed playing on his phone, I opened the script I’d been reading earlier, and the world continued turning the way it had been before Natalya walked through that door. It hadn’t been a disaster. It hadn’t sent everything up in flames. Whatever we did tonight, same deal. And the next night. And the next one. Because I didn’t see us reining this thing back any time soon.

  Deep down, though, I knew we were
making a mistake.

  Only problem was, I’d have been lying if I said I didn’t want to keep making that mistake.

  Despite my worries about where to go from here, I had to admit it was the pleasant afterglow of our office quickie that carried me through the next few hours. Between that and the sheer madness of working on a production set, I didn’t have time to think about all the reasons I shouldn’t be meeting Natalya after work.

  When the day was over, though, and I was on my way home, my worries crept back in. I tried not to squirm in the passenger seat of Jeremy’s car while we shot the breeze. Did he notice? No idea. If he did, he didn’t say anything, and we said our usual good-byes when he dropped me off at home.

  Then he was gone, and not five minutes later, Natalya arrived. I let her in, and the second she touched my waist and kissed me, I was her slave.

  Sort of.

  I wanted her. God, yes. Please.

  But . . .

  My heart thumped against my ribs, and it wasn’t just arousal. The conversation we hadn’t had in my office still echoed in my ears. Like it or not, we had to go there, and hopefully we could salvage the mood afterward.

  Except the whole point is to talk about why we can’t do this at all.

  We could fool around one more time, but then I’d be leading her on. Better to disappoint us both now than give this thing a chance to turn into something it couldn’t be.

  God, I wish we could make this work. Damn it. Because you are such an amazing—

  Abruptly, Natalya drew back, and her brow pinched. “Something wrong?”

  “I . . .” I held her gaze. Then my shoulders sagged a bit, and I backed off. “Listen, before we go much further, we should probably get on the same page.”

  “All right.” She shrugged, though it was a tight gesture—as if she were trying to seem more confident and relaxed than she was. “What about?”

  “Well, for starters . . . what are we doing?”

  “Um . . .” She cocked her head. “Going up to your bedroom to get each other off. I think?”

  Oh God. Goose bumps. So many goose bumps.

  She inclined her head. “Right? I mean, I think that’s what we’re doing?”

  I swallowed. “Is that all we’re doing?”

  “Isn’t it?” She narrowed her eyes slightly, watching me intently. “Unless you wanted something more?” It was a very matter-of-fact question, carrying no undercurrent of hopefulness or uneasiness. Just a question with no pretenses either way.

  Pulse thumping with nerves and stomach sinking with disappointment, I whispered, “I don’t think I can handle doing anything more right now.”

  “Then we won’t.” She sounded so . . . decided. As if it were that simple. We wouldn’t do anything more than fool around, and that was that. End of discussion. Case closed. Back to getting each other wet and undressed and—

  I sighed and gently freed myself from her arms. “I’m not sure it’s that easy.”

  “Why not?” She watched me like I’d lost my mind. “This, what we’re doing . . . it’s fun, right?”

  “Oh God, yes.” I ran a hand through my hair just for something to do with all this nervous energy. “But, I mean, we’re both freshly out of relationships.”

  “I’m not looking for another one. Are you?”

  “No. But these casual things, they . . .” I shifted my weight. “They sometimes go that way. That’s how Leigh and I ended up together in the first place. We hooked up, and hooked up again, and . . .”

  Natalya nodded. “Yes, it happens. But so what if it does?” She shrugged. “If things are good in bed, and we decide to start dating, then . . . why not?”

  “Because I . . .” I hesitated, but then looked her in the eye. “For one, we’re coworkers.” I cringed, waiting for the same arguments I’d already had with half the population of Bluewater Bay.

  “Yeah, we are.” Her shoulder lifted in a sharp half shrug. “You’re also one of my bosses.”

  “Exactly.”

  “If I wasn’t okay with that, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “Right, but I’m not sure I’m okay with it.” I held her gaze. “We both have to deal with our breakups too, and put that all behind us. And . . . I mean, I’m a lesbian. You’re bisexual.”

  She cocked her head. “So?”

  “So, that’s . . . It’s not a good combination.”

  Her eyebrow arched, and she drew back a bit, her brow pulling down above her eyes. “What?”

  I moistened my lips. “I’m only interested in women. You’re . . .” Oh, how I loved those thoughts that made sense in my head but sounded dickish when spoken out loud. Why didn’t I just leave it at breakups and work? Well, too late now. Shifting uncomfortably, I folded my arms. “Look, everyone has their orientation, and that’s fine. But I’ve been burned a few too—”

  “I’ve been burned by men with ink,” she said sharply. “Doesn’t mean I won’t see a guy who has a tattoo.”

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “It’s not like that. There are things men can do, and things woman can do, and I—”

  “It is like that.” She mirrored me, folding her arms across her chest. “We’ve fooled around twice, and you’re already deciding we can’t possibly date because I’ve also been with men?”

  “Because you’re interested in men.” I waved a hand. “I can’t compete with a man.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. It isn’t a competition.”

  “Actually, it is. Everyone competes for—”

  “You know what I mean,” she growled. “If I’m dating someone, it’s because I’m into them, not because they’re tiding me over until something better comes along. Something with or without a dick, since I assume this is what that’s about.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  She held my gaze. “My relationship with my boyfriend went to shit. And so did your relationship with that woman, who I assume is another lesbian, since you were willing to date her.”

  “I’m not saying two lesbians together will automatically work. But I don’t want to jump into a relationship—especially a rebound relationship—with the deck already stacked against us.”

  “How is the deck stacked against us? Because you don’t have a penis?” She threw up her hands. “Neither did one of my boyfriends. It doesn’t matter. I don’t fucking care.”

  I blinked, not sure how to respond.

  “Ugh. Forget it.” She shook her head. “If that’s how you feel, then there’s no need to discuss it. I’d rather not even sleep with someone who’s biphobic. If I disgust you that much, then—”

  “You don’t disgust me.” That’s the last thing you do to me, Natalya. “I never said you did.”

  She laughed dryly. “Whatever. I don’t date lesbians who think they’re better than me.” She turned to go, adding over her shoulder. “I’ll see you at work.”

  I stared, dumbstruck, at the empty space she’d occupied. The door slammed in the foyer, and my breath caught. Man, I should have been used to that sound echoing through this house, but it made me flinch just like it always did. Especially since it sounded wrong.

  Why am I letting her go? Why am I all but shoving her out the door?

  Because I need to.

  I closed my eyes and exhaled.

  Yes. I need to.

  Natalya was hot, and I craved the kind of sex she liked, but it wasn’t worth setting ourselves up for that inevitable heartbreak.

  Maybe we were good in bed together, but anything more than that just wasn’t meant to be. And despite giving in to temptation this afternoon, I’d known we couldn’t do this. I’d been mentally reciting all the reasons we couldn’t do this ever since she’d left my place the other morning. I’d been carefully arranging explanations so I could let her down easy if it turned out she wanted more.

  In the end, we’d let physical attraction get the best of us, and then I’d managed to piss her off while trying to explain myself out of a relationship.
>
  The truth was out. The fling was over before it began. It would be awkward at work for a while, but we’d get over it. This was for the better.

  Hooking up with her had been a mistake, and I’d known that from the start.

  So why the hell did I feel like I’d just made an even bigger one?

  So that was that. Natalya was gone, even though she wasn’t. As the days became weeks, we avoided each other as much as we realistically could. We didn’t so much as look at each other at the gym. Meetings were conducted with icy professionalism. At least our colleagues were used to Natalya’s steely demeanor, so hopefully they didn’t notice the extra layer of frostiness between us. I told myself they’d chalk up my bitchiness to Finn, stress, my time of the month—whatever. I didn’t really care what they blamed it on as long as it wasn’t the truth.

  There were people who’d see through it, though. Sooner or later, someone was going to ask. Maybe Hunter, who kept eyeing me during meetings as if I had Something really, really sucks in my life right now etched across my forehead. Or Levi, who may as well have had a direct line to everything inside my mind—whenever he asked what was wrong, he always seemed to know already and was just trying to get me to fess up.

  Hunter didn’t say a word. Levi didn’t ask. Kevin, Carter, Emily, Simon—nobody said a word. Thank God.

  But it was bound to happen, and when it did Jeremy—goddamn the bastard—had the most impeccable timing.

  It was late one night, after a marathon shoot bookended by a couple of life-sucking meetings with energy vampires like Finn and some of the studio’s top brass. I’d been lucky to make it out to Jeremy’s car on my own power, drop into the passenger seat, and put on my seat belt.

  I was just about to let myself slide into a coma for the drive home, when Jeremy broke the silence.