by B. B. Hamel
“She can’t help herself,” I say. “I’m just too handsome.”
“Just colleagues,” Piper says weakly.
“Colleagues, coworkers, blah blah blah.” My mom rolls her eyes. “Jacey, when will this girl learn? She can’t keep pretending she’s something she’s not.”
“I don’t know, Mom,” I say, grinning huge. “She’ll figure it out eventually though. I’m delightful.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Shouldn’t we talk about the city?” Piper cuts in. “So far we’ve mostly talked about our fake marriage.”
“The fake marriage is way more fun.”
“Let’s talk about the city.” Piper uses her best producer-voice, and glares at me sternly.
“Oh, she’s good,” Mom says. “You should lock her down, Jacey.”
“I’m trying, Mom.” I grin at Piper, who just rolls her eyes, but I decide it’s time to change the subject.
I grill Mom about living in LA and all that. I ask her how it compares to back home, how it feels to be alone out here, all of that. Her answers don’t surprise me, but I know they’ll make for good TV, even if we’re chopping it all down to short little sound bites.
Eventually we have to wrap it up. The guys put away their cameras and each get a cookie while Piper frets over the dishes, cleaning up while my mom watches on, smoking a cigarette and drinking some wine.
I can’t hear what they’re saying in the kitchen. I help the guys pack the equipment. But when they’re done, Piper glances at me, turns red, and heads out of the apartment without a word.
I sigh and look back at my mother. “What did you say, Mom?”
“Say? What did I say? I said nothing.” She grins and holds up her hands, the cigarette slowly leaking a curl of smoke up next to her face. “You know me, Jacey. I’m a good person.”
“Yeah, you are, of course.” I go over and kiss her cheek. “I’ll visit alone again before I leave, okay?”
“You better.” She kisses me and hugs me. “I miss my son, you know.”
“I know. I’ll be back.”
“Good. Good. Take these stupid cookies with you, okay?”
I take the Tupperware container she’s shoving toward me. “Gladly. I’ll see you soon.” I kiss her one more time as we filter out of her apartment and back toward the street.
“Nice lady, your mom,” Calvin comments.
“Thanks,” I say.
“We got some good footage,” Eric adds. “I bet Piper’s gonna hate it, though.”
“Too bad for her.” I shrug a little. “She’ll get over it.”
We find her out in the van, looking annoyed. We pack it all up and I finally climb inside and look at her, but she doesn’t return my gaze. I decide to leave her alone, at least for the time being.
We drive back in silence and I help the guys unload and carry all the equipment upstairs. When I’m done, I find Piper down in the hotel bar, sipping on wine and taking notes in her phone. She looks up as I approach and sighs.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says.
I climb onto the stool next to her and order a whisky on the rocks. I sip it when it comes.
“I just want to know one thing. What did my mom say to you?”
She winces. “I’d rather not.”
“Just, please. Tell me what she said.”
“It wasn’t rude, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
I laugh a little bit. “No, it wasn’t, but I wouldn’t put that past her, either.”
“It was just… I don’t know. It was true, I guess.”
“True?” I raise an eyebrow at her. “From my mom?”
“Yeah, I mean, your mom’s pretty great. And pretty smart. You don’t give her enough credit.”
“I know how great she is,” I say softly. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my own addiction for so long that I forgot, but I’m starting to remember now.”
“Good.” She nods once. “You should visit her more.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
We lapse into silence. I let her finish her wine and stand before looking at her again.
She’s beautiful, flushed and biting her lower lip. I have the sudden urge to kiss her, to pull her against me, down into my lap. I want to hold her tight and kiss her slow.
“She said…” Piper stops herself, takes a deep breath, and lets it out. “She said you’re dangerous. That I better be careful.”
I raise an eyebrow, watching her carefully. “Careful of what?”
“Of how you make me feel.”
We stare at each other silently for a second. It seems to stretch on for a while, and I don’t know what to do. We’re hung here, suspended in midair, stuck between two possibilities. I can kiss her or I can run.
She makes the choice instead. “Anyway, I’ll see you later.” She turns and walks away, and I let her go.
I don’t know why. I should run after her. I want her, and I know my mom means well, but I’m surprised. Even my own mother knows I’m a bastard, but that’s not what I want to be, not forever.
I just want Piper to see that for herself, and she will, sooner or later.
20
Piper
It’s early the next morning, and I’m awake. I don’t think I can explain the magnitude of that statement. I’m never up this early.
We decided to postpone today’s shoot, moving it back until tomorrow to give everyone a much-needed day off after Jace hijacked our last one. Normally, I’d be in bed until at least eleven, but not today. For some reason, I’m up at the ass-crack of dawn, just as the sun’s rising.
It’s six and I’m sitting down in the lobby, sipping some coffee, wishing I were still asleep. There are other early risers, some of them chipper and smiling, some of them still up from the night before, but most of us are practically zombies still. I’m more zombie-like than most, since I got barely five hours of sleep last night, probably less.
I just keep thinking about Jace’s mother. She was so warm, so inviting, and so funny. When I was washing the dishes, she talked to me more about Jace when he was a kid, told me about all the trouble he used to get in.
That’s when she said it. That’s when she said he’s dangerous.
She was warning me about her own son, and she was dead serious. I could see it on her face. That smile was gone, that lightness around her eyes.
“He’s going to break your heart,” she said to me. I didn’t tell him this part, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. “If you let him, he’ll do it, just like his father.”
That part keeps ringing in my ears. Just like his father. How could his mother say that about him, especially when his father was such an abusive bastard, at least according to Jace?
I just can’t understand it. She seemed so loving and supportive of him, up until that moment. Her eyes betrayed nothing, but I believed her, fully and completely. I can see him breaking my heart if I let him, and the crazy thing is, I keep wanting to let him.
Even after that conversation with his mother, or maybe because of it. I don’t see the monster in him, or at least I see it but I don’t think that’s all of him. I believe there’s a good person deep down inside of him, and now that he’s clean, I think he can embrace that person. Maybe his mother is too used to the addict and the asshole, and she can’t picture Jace as a decent guy anymore.
I can picture it. That’s what terrifies me, more than anything else.
As I’m sitting there contemplating a mother warning a woman away from her son, the elevator door opens and Jace steps off it. He’s wearing light, short running shorts and a tight thin t-shirt. He walks across the lobby wearing running shoes, and he nearly gets past me before he stops and slowly turns in my direction.
“You’re up early,” he says, walking over.
I lower the coffee cup I was using to try and hide behind. “Good morning,” I say.
He frowns at me. “Couldn’t sleep?”
I shrug. “I’m always
up early.
“On your day off? I don’t think so.”
“How would you know? We don’t have days off.”
“I just know.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Listen, you should come with me.”
“What, on a run?”
“Sure. I’m going up into the hills. It’ll be nice.”
I shake my head. “No, thanks. I probably couldn’t keep up.”
He laughs. “Girl, I was an addict for years. I smoked and drank and fucked. I can’t fucking run worth shit. Come on, wifey. Spend some time with your husband.”
I hesitate a second, but his mother’s face comes back to me, her eyes flat and dead. “Fine,” I say. “Wait here. I gotta get changed.”
“Better hurry.” He walks over to the coffee near the bar. “I’m not patient.”
“Yeah, yeah, you invited me, you’ll wait.”
He laughs as I walk away, head up to my room, and change my clothes.
I don’t know why I’m doing this. Even his mother says I should avoid him.
But I can’t help it. That warning only makes me want to be around him even more, to see if it’s true, or if the Jace I’m starting to know is the real Jace.
* * *
I’m breathing deep as we push up a hill. It’s a beautiful run, up a trail along a scrubby forest. We pass a few other hikers and joggers, although we’re far from the fastest people on the trail.
Jace wasn’t kidding when he said he’s not in great shape. He’s huffing and puffing beside me, his muscular, handsome body sweating, his face looking grim. I’m not a great runner, although I train pretty regularly when I have the time, but he’s in awful shape. I thought he’d be better since his body looks immaculate, but he wasn’t kidding about the smoking and drinking thing, I guess.
We finally crest the hill and reach the top. The underbrush thins out and a flat, dirt area surrounds us. Jace is panting and bent over, catching his breath while I stop and put my hands on my head.
“Holy crap,” I say. “You’re about to puke, aren’t you?”
He glares at me. “No,” he says. “I’m just out of running shape, is all.”
“I thought you were kidding.”
“Wasn’t kidding.” He stands up straight, taking deep breaths. “I really need to do more cardio.”
“I don’t know. You look like you’re in good shape.”
That gets a smile. “Relax, wifey. I know you find me attractive already.”
I roll my eyes but I’m smiling. I step away from him, off the path and through the trees. He follows me and eventually we end up toward the edge of the hill, looking down at his mother’s neighborhood in the distance.
“Pretty,” he says, his breath coming back to him.
“Yeah, it really is.” I can feel my heartrate slowly coming down. There’s nobody out around here, and nobody is likely to come past.
I sit down in the short grass and he sits next to me. We look down at the town for a few minutes in silence.
“What was your dad like?” I ask him suddenly.
He glances at me. “Did my mom say something?”
I shake my head quickly. “No. But being back there got me wondering.”
He nods, looking away. “I think I told you some of it already. Abusive fucking asshole, basically.”
“Yeah, but, what kind of person… was he?”
“The kind of person that came home drunk most nights and hit my mom when she talked back.” He sighs, shaking his head. “Maybe that’s exaggerating a little bit. He didn’t beat her all the time, just when he got mad enough. Mostly he saved it up for me.”
I bite my lip. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
“I remember one night, I came home late, past curfew. He was waiting up for me, belt in hand. I got two steps in the door and he was on me, shoving me up against the couch and beating my back until I had thick, bloody welts. He threw me on the floor, looked me in the eye, and spit on the floor. ‘Do it again, boy, and it’ll be worse.’ He walked away and left me there. My mom cleaned up my back for me and sent me to bed.”
“Jesus,” I whisper.
“I still have a scar from it.” He lifts his shirt. “See that, under my right shoulder blade?”
Sure enough, there’s a faded white scar, right underneath an ink line. “I see it,” I say.
He lowers his shirt. “When he walked out on my mom, that was the best day of my life.”
“Was that here in LA?”
“No,” he says. “That was in Jersey. He never would’ve let her come here.”
“So it was good that he left.”
“Very good,” he agrees, “but I think it hurt her. I think she blamed me for a little while. She loved him, despite all his fucking flaws, I guess. Broke her heart when he left. I think coming out here was partially her way of escaping his memory.”
I nod slowly, some things coming together for me. “She loved him, despite him being a monster.”
“Couldn’t help herself, I guess. We don’t always choose who we love, and sometimes they turn out to be shitty people.” He sighs and leans back on his hands. “Shit, I don’t know why we’re talking about this.”
“Sorry. I brought it up.”
He cocks his head, looking at me. “Thing is, wifey, I don’t think my mom ever forgave me for it. Sure, her life got better, but her man walked out on her and she blamed her troubled little son. She loves me and all, but she thinks I drove him away.”
“Has she ever said that to you?”
“No, and she never will. But I can see it sometimes, when we talk about what happened.”
I nod slowly. “I’m sorry, Jace. I don’t think any of that was your fault.”
“I know. I’m at peace with it now. Just one more shitty thing in life that I’ve had to carry around.” He laughs a little bitterly. “What time is it? Isn’t it too early for this kind of conversation?”
“Probably,” I say, smiling stupidly. Without thinking too much about it, I move closer to him and lean against his side. He looks down at me, and I can see it in his eyes. He knows what I’m thinking.
I tilt my head up toward him as he kisses me.
21
Jace
Piper moves closer to me, her face tilted up toward mine, and there’s something in her expression. It’s like she’s made a choice, made a decision about something. I know what she wants me to do, and I can’t resist it.
I’ve needed a taste since the second we stopped the last time. I bend down and kiss her, letting her taste flood my mouth. We’re both a little sweaty from running but that doesn’t matter to me at all. I need her body, her skin, her touch. I need every inch of her.
I pull her closer, dragging her on top of me, her thighs straddling my middle as I grab a handful of her ass over her short little running shorts.
She gasps when I bite her lower lip. She’s so fucking sexy, slightly damp, her breasts heaving under that sports bra. I kiss down her neck and pull her tight before tasting her mouth again, desire washing over my body.
I know someone could walk past at any moment, but I just don’t care. My free hand slides down her hips and between her legs, finding her warm cunt, rubbing tight. She groans a little and flexes her hips, rocking back and forth as I keep rubbing her pussy while she rides me.
I grab her back suddenly and roll to the side, getting on top. I move down between her legs and tug her shorts off, kissing her inner thigh.
“Jace, hold on,” she gasps and I move my mouth closer to her bare pussy, her shorts down around her knees. “We can’t do this here.”
I sit up on my knees and look around, one hand between her legs and teasing her wet little pussy. “I don’t see why not.”
“We’re in public.” She trying to keep her moans under control but she’s failing and I love it.
“I don’t see an issue.” I press two fingers inside, leaning down over her again.
“Bastard,” she gasps. “You just take whatever you w
ant, don’t you?”
“Eventually,” I answer, smirking. I kiss her lips. “Tell me to stop.”
“No.”
“Good girl.” I kiss her and slide my fingers deeper before dropping back down between her legs.
I love the taste of her pussy and I love it even more after a run. I lap her up, tasting every inch of her, focusing on her swollen clit and letting her moans roll through me. I press my fingers inside her again as I tongue her clit, fucking her pussy and sucking at the same time. Her fingers slide through my hair and tug as she groans. I want her to moan loud, I want her to fucking scream. I want to get caught, make her blush, make her never forget this.
But I have another way of making her remember. I press my fingers deeper, tongue lapping her clit in perfect circles, pressing and releasing as I slide my fingers deeper and deeper, fucking that pussy.
I pull back and she gasps, glaring at me. I smirk and grab her hips, rolling her over onto her stomach. My cock is rock fucking hard as I pull my shorts down, pressing her into the grass on her stomach. I spread that ass wide open and stare at her tight little pucker before sliding my cock down to her pussy.
She gasps, looking over her shoulder, as I slowly press myself deep inside that cunt from behind. “Oh, shit,” she groans. I grab her hands and put them behind her back as I start to fuck her from behind. She’s completely dominated, totally under my control, hands behind her back and shorts around her knees. I keep her pinned to the grass, her face to one side as I fuck that tight little pussy, savoring every single stroke.
“I want to get caught,” I whisper in her ear as I fuck her. “Keep screaming, little wifey. I think you want to get caught, too.”
“No, I don’t,” she moans. “But keep fucking me anyway, you asshole.”
“That’s what I thought. Can’t help yourself.”
She glares at me but there’s more passion and pleasure than anger in her gaze. I laugh and fuck her harder, railing into her pussy, keeping her down on the grass.