by Lily Zante
By not saying anything, by not judging me, he is giving me the freedom to speak. To confess.
I had therapy which helped me many years ago. It stopped me from cutting, but these last few months have been hard. I’ve crawled back to that dark place, hating the world and everything around me. Having Callum around, being here, for me, has been like a sliver of light coming in from the crack of my fragmented existence.
Elias said that talking to someone, especially to someone who cares, like this man in my arms, helps. I want to tell Callum why I’m like this. I want to move the boulder of shame which rests on my shoulders. I clear my throat, and his hand stills, and I dare not look at him. We lie still, in silence. I can tell from the sudden rise and fall of his chest that his breathing has sped up.
Callum’s hand sweeps across my hair and he cups the side of my head, and still he says nothing. I open my mouth, not sure where to start, but trust that saying something will help him see why I am the way I am.
The way I am.
The way I am is not how he needs me to be. I am not Alyssa Watts, or Leanne Rose. I am not glamorous, or an extrovert. I am not used to the public stage. I can barely understand how Elias copes with the public scrutiny.
Am I ready for this? Life with Callum, even if all we have are a few weeks of fun?
What then?
He will return to LA, and I’ll be back in my normal life.
Except he will know my dirtiest, darkest secret.
He will know the worst of me.
I’m no longer sure I can reveal my true self, because I don’t know how long he will be around.
“Do you think about your brother a lot?” I ask, my survival mode kicking in as I find a deflection point. We all have things we don’t want to talk about and I imagine this might be his. “Not every day, not in every moment, but he’s with me. I feel he’s always there, if that makes sense.” His voice is somber, and now I wish I hadn’t asked.
He strokes my back lightly, and I hear the gentle pitter-patter of his heartbeat. I could lie like this forever. “You must love your brother a lot,” he says. He’s good at deflecting, too.
This seals it for me. That’s what he continues to think, that I have issues over my guilt for Elias. I mustn’t ruin things by having him think anything else.
Especially not the truth.
Chapter Forty-Five
CALLUM
* * *
We spent the rest of the day just lying down, talking about safe things. Nina’s courses—she’s always taking them, and learning new things. Elias and the fight, Harper and her new job. The goings on at the diner. I didn’t bring it up, the way in which she froze, the way things become too much for her to handle. I’m aware that I have to be gentle with her.
I see her off to the airport the next morning, and I fly back later that same night.
Back in Chicago, our weekend in LA barely feels real. But it was real. Nina coming to the film premiere, Nina in my hotel suite, Nina lying with me on the sun lounger for most of the weekend—all of that was real.
When sex is out of the equation, things are so much simpler. All my past encounters with women have ended up in sex. Starting from the first kiss, it’s always a foregone conclusion that me and the whoever are going to end up in bed together.
Not so with Nina.
I knew that going in.
I didn’t expect anything. I was shocked when she said yes and agreed to come with me at all. How it all worked out was beyond anything I could have imagined and those precious days we shared are etched in my heart. I look upon them as our new beginning.
The film shoot will be over soon, but there’s no way I will be ready to leave Chicago soon after.
Back on the set for the final week of shooting, Dottie makes a comment as she hands me my morning cup of coffee.
“Thanks.” I wait for her to leave, as I look over my lines. She doesn’t move. “That’s all, thanks.”
“You need to be more careful.”
I shift in my seat. “About?”
“About you and Nina.”
“What’s your point, Dottie? Just say it.”
“People saw you both together. You were with her more than you were with Alyssa. There were paps at the after party.”
“We were talking.”
“There are rumors going around.”
Apart from Wesley trying to hit on Nina at the party, I can’t think of how the rumors would start. We stayed in my hotel suite for most of the time. But I don’t care. “I’ll deal with them.”
“I’m only letting you know, Callum. You should be careful.”
“Thank you, Dottie. That will be all.”
I call Nina and tell her that I can’t come to the diner, not even in disguise, and she tells me she misses me, and she doesn’t care about missing night school, and then she asks when she can see me.
That’s the best question I’ve been asked all day.
She comes over that evening, and for most evenings after that. We spend time in my suite. Just being. Ordering take out, talking, holding hands, kissing. I never know how far I can take it, so I let her set the pace because there is no rush.
* * *
NINA
* * *
Luckily, Harper didn’t get back from the mountains until a few days ago, which means she hasn’t been hounding me for an update on how my weekend went.
We have to catch up though. She wants me to come over for dinner before things turn hectic, and they will, in the run up to the fight. I showed her a few of the pictures I took of me and Callum, back at his hotel.
We look really cute together. It’s the first time I’ve taken selfies and not cringed. He’s staring at me adoringly in one shot. I never realized it at the time, but when I look at it when I’m alone, and pore over it, examining it in fine detail, I see it clearly. There’s something in this frozen moment that I don’t allow myself to see when he’s with me. It’s an unguarded snapshot, but if ever I needed proof that he likes me, this is it. I look at that picture every night before I go to sleep.
I don’t know if this is love, or something similar, something warm, and mushy, and sweet, but I feel it. It warms me up inside. Lights me up like a lamp in a room on a cold, dark night.
Is this what people mean when they talk about the power of love? It gives me hope, that I can be more like the Nina I was in LA. That I can move on. Hope—that’s what being with Callum gives me.
I didn’t show this picture to Harper. I don’t want her mouthing off to Elias, and I would rather tell her in person. But I couldn’t help but show her the few selfies I took with Dottie, and some we took of ourselves outside the Chinese theater. I wanted to prove to Harper that I went with Callum’s personal assistant, and that this wasn’t a dirty weekend away for me and him. The fact that it turned into something else, something sensual and deep, is something she doesn’t yet need to know. I also wanted to show her how I looked, all made up and wearing her dress, because, I really did look good. I felt good. I felt amazing. A different me, confident and happier.
And then I made the mistake of showing her the picture of Callum sleeping on the sun lounger on his hotel balcony. Harper’s suspicious. She thinks that there’s more I’m not telling her, and she’s right. I don’t know myself where this is going, so I tell her more about Alyssa and Callum being an item, even though it feels like I have a blade stuck in my throat when I talk about it.
Luckily, Harper’s investigative skills aren’t so sharp at the moment. Elias’s fight is inching closer and soon he’ll fly to New York. She’s asked me a few times if I’ll come, but so far, I’ve been avoiding it. I did consider asking her if Callum could come, but Dottie hinted back when we were in LA about Callum needing to make it look like he and Alyssa are an item, if only for the release of the film. As much as that grates on my nerves, I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize his career or take any chances with his film. He’s told me what this role means to him, how he finally go
t a chance to do something gritty, and real and I don’t want to mess it up for him. Callum being seen sitting next to me at Elias’s fight will set alarm bells ringing.
We don’t even meet at the diner now. For the past week I’ve been sneaking into his hotel suite late at night. Most times I go back home late, but a couple of times I’ve ended up staying the night and have left first thing in the morning before Dottie comes over with his coffee. He was tempted to tell her to ditch the coffee, but he’s worried she’ll get suspicious.
It’s not like we are up to anything.
Much.
Just a whole heap of kissing, and touching, and … that’s about it. I feel like we’re teens sneaking behind our parents’ backs and trying to spend time together.
Frankie looks at me with a knowing smile on her face. Twice she’s commented on me missing night school. I missed it so that I could spend that time with Callum instead. I showed her the LA pictures as well. Joni didn’t seem interested. She never even asked me about my trip, so I didn’t bother telling her anything. She has a new guy now, he came into the diner a few days’ ago. He seems okay but appearances can be deceiving, and they’re still in the early stages.
I thought Rhys was nice until he opened his mouth, and I thought Callum was a big-headed actor guy, and he’s not. He’s the first man I’ve felt completely at ease with. When I’m with him, I don’t see what everyone else sees. That might have been because of how we met, early on that first time in the alleyway. I see Callum for who he really is; a caring man who is helping me to become the woman I want to be. Though he doesn’t know it, he’s helping me to reclaim some of my power and being with him helps me erase the things I need to forget, the cruel memories that have wallpapered my past.
I’ll tell him soon, when I’m ready. When I’m not worried that it will change things between us.
I go over late one evening, the day after he has finished shooting on the film. They had a big celebration on set yesterday. He didn’t ask me to come along. I understand why he didn’t. We can’t be seen together. So tonight, it’s our turn to celebrate. I go over with a bottle of champagne, and a selection of desserts from the diner.
“I didn’t know what to get the man who has everything,” I say, handing them to him. He tells me off, says he doesn’t need anything from me, except my company. We kiss, and hug and my heart fills with something new and blooming, like the pretty pink cherry blossoms that herald spring and a new beginning.
“The only thing I want is you. Not you, not like that,” he says, quickly, making me smile, reassuring me even though I’m finding it impossible not to think about intimacy when I’m pressed up against him, lost in his kiss.
He can light a fire inside me just through his touch. Each night, or morning, when I leave his apartment, I’m in the thick of my arousal. We reach that point, and then he’ll stop. He doesn’t want to push things, I sense that, but it’s frustrating for me because sometimes, I want to go further and he always stops just when I could go on.
We never talk about it, and he’s never brought it up again, about how I closed up back in LA.
I trust him, yet there is a tiny part of me that holds back. A warning bell in the back of my head that plants doubt and seeds the idea that this is fleeting. That he will leave soon, and I must prepare myself for fake romance stories of his love affair with Alyssa. I don’t know if I will be able to see celebrity photos of him and her. I’d rather gut my heart out with a butcher’s knife.
It unnerves me how quickly I seem to have fallen for him. My feelings run deep, feelings I thought I never had--desire, lust, and jealousy. Love is complicated, and sometimes I’m not even sure that Callum will see me in the same way if he knows about my past.
I never knew what to label ‘this’ as and now I’m more confused than ever. I worry that my emotional scars and baggage will be too heavy for him to deal with.
Will he be a story I will tell my friends later on?
Or will he be a part of the story we tell our kids?
I don’t know where we stand. I don’t know if this is a fork in our road, or if this is where we make a stand. And tonight, I don’t care. Sadness slides over me, and I go outside on his balcony, grip the railings and look out, remembering the first day I did this.
“Hey.” He comes up behind me. “What’s up?”
“You’ve finished your film.”
His arms slide around me I hold onto his hands which rest against my belly. He drops a kiss on the back of my head. “So?”
“You’ll be leaving soon.”
“Soon. But this isn’t goodbye.”
“Isn’t it?” Where does this go, when it hasn’t even started? I treated him like I treated anyone who showed an interest, but Callum has a piece of my heart, and when he goes, he’ll take a part of me with him. I won’t even be able to tell anyone how it feels because I’ve never been like Joni, a loudmouth, spouting off to everyone.
“Hey.” He nuzzles my earlobe, making me quake. I push back against him, feeling the rock of his hardness against my back. His lips snake down my neck, and he kisses my skin, all along my neck and shoulder blade.
I turn around because I want him, and I’m sad that we have run out of time, so I kiss him back, and I take this moment as if it is my last. He, maybe sensing my urgency, kisses me back just as hard. We have made out for weeks, but there’s a desperation as I cling to him now. I want him.
“Hey, Nina.” He talks against my mouth, but I’m done with words for now. I suck his lower lip, taste his mouth and cling to his neck. He picks me up, and I wrap my legs around him.
I want him to take me to his bedroom, and lay me down, and do things to me. But somewhere deep in the back of my brain, I start to close off. I start to get scared. I breathe through it and focus instead on Callum instead. On his soft mouth, and his scent, and his strong hands around me. I squeeze my thighs together, and squeeze my legs, filling a void. Needing him. But instead of taking me to his bed, he puts me down gently on the couch, then stands up, looking down at me.
What now? Confusion and disbelief swirl around me. Why has he stopped before we’ve even started? “What are you doing?” I wonder if he’s letting me down gently. “Is this where you tell me that this is goodbye?”
“This isn’t goodbye,” he insists, grinning. Sitting next to me he takes my hand. “This doesn’t end here.”
His words are like gold dust to my needy heart. I lean forward and kiss him, and I can tell that he seems surprised by my lustiness tonight.
“We don’t have to do anything, okay?” he says gently.
“Don’t you want to?” I ask.
He looks at me for what seems like the longest time. It’s as if he can see through me. My body responds in kind, my stomach turning light and feathery, my breasts longing for his touch. “I want to, but I’m not sure you know what you want, or need, from me. Sometimes I’m not even sure you completely trust me, Nina.” His hand is light, yet for all that it’s doing to my insides, it might as well be weighted.
“I do trust you. More than I have trusted anyone.” His brow creases and I’m aware that he must have questions. His hand moves to my wrist. I shake my head. I don’t want him to ask about that. I don’t want to think about that. I move his hand away, back to my stomach. “You make me feel things I haven’t allowed myself to feel before.”
“I do?” he asks, unsure, this gorgeous creature who seems so unattainable and out of reach for many of his fans—and he’s here, with me. I nod. I hold my breath, waiting for the question which I can almost hear on the tip of his tongue. “What do you want, Nina?” It’s not the question I was expecting. “What would you like to happen?”
“Why?” I ask, disappointed.
My heart jumps, a surge of adrenalin, pure lust even, shoots through my veins. I don’t know how to answer that. I was never asked that… then, and I don’t know how to say in words what my body feels, or what I need, what I want from him. “What … what would you
like to happen?” I ask him.
“I want to kiss you all over. I want to lick you all over.”
I groan in lustful anticipation.
“Would you want that?”
I bite my lip, hold my breath at the thought of that. Wondering how it would feel. “Yes.” My voice is croaky. My panties are wet.
“I’ll have to take your dress off.”
Sweet baby Jesus. I’m too turned on to reply. “May I?” he asks, his voice turning husky as his hand presses against my stomach. I wonder what his touch will feel like on my naked skin.
“Yes.”
“You just tell me to stop, and I will.”
I let him undress me, so that I’m left in only my underwear. He’s still in full clothes. “You’re fully dressed,” I protest.
“This isn’t about me.” But he fixes me with a searing gaze as he takes his T-shirt off but nothing else. The throbbing between my legs ratchets up a notch or five. I’ve seen him in many guises, his fat body-suit and tux and casual clothes. But not bare chested. This close and naked, his gorgeous physique is a vision to behold.
“You set the pace,” he whispers, his voice dropping lower as he climbs back onto the bed and next to me again. His hand skims over my belly, his touch making my private parts tingle.
I want this. I want this so much.
But will I freeze up? Like I have before, with other less patient guys? Callum has shown me all the patience in the world. It’s like he’s being careful, empathetic, watching to see what I need. My hands slowly start to explore his bare torso, savoring the feel of his heat, admiring the hard outlines of his muscles.
He’s in my arms now, with me.
At first he goes slow. Every nerve in my body tingles when he kisses my body, slowly, his lips lingering lazily over my heated skin. He worships me with his tongue and his lips, he sucks and kisses, while his fingers touch and tweak. He plays with me. When his hand slips inside my bra cap, and he tweaks my other nipple, he looks at me, as if waiting for my directions, but soon enough, his mouth sucks hungrily at my breast. I’m in heaven. He pushes the crotch of my panties to the side, claiming access, and his finger rubs my clit. The sensation rips through me. A livewire from my clit directly to my breasts. I writhe against him, clinging to him as if my life depends on it.