Whisper (New Adult Romance)

by Claire, Ava

  “Who’s Liam?” Leila and the doctor asked in near unison.

  “Just a guy.” I lied. Maybe he was a guy when we met at Sol’s office, when I thought about how badly I wanted to fuck him. But when he busted into Sol’s office with murder in his eyes, ready to save me, combined with how right it felt to be kissed by him...I wasn’t ready to admit the truth. “He’s just a friend.” I cleared my throat, trying to cover my tracks. “I gripped the counter, and a wave of all the crap I had been dealing with hit me like a Mack truck.” My mind was coloring in the picture and I didn’t like what I saw. I hung my head, not finishing.

  The doctor gave my hand an awkward pat. “Would you like me to ask your friend to wait outside?”

  I lifted my gaze, a scowl on my lips. Since I pretty much grew up on screen in Carolina, California, people generally belonged to one of two camps. They were either a gushing fan or violently opposed to me – or they wanted to play parent or therapist. The doctor’s fatherly tone was rubbing me the wrong way.

  “Actually, I’d really appreciate it if you gave us a minute.”

  The doctor’s sharp features intensified as he narrowed his eyes and whittled his lips into a thin line. “I’ll be right outside.”

  Leila barely waited for him to leave, rushing to my bedside. “Is this about your sister? Your mom?”

  Maybe she didn’t care if the good doctor had given us privacy, but the things I had to say were for her ears alone. I kicked my legs off the edge of the bed, holding my gown closed as I made sure the door was securely closed. Once I was satisfied, I turned back to her.

  I inhaled, but the exhale didn’t come. It was bottled up inside me like everything else.

  “My mom set up a meeting with Sol Cole.”

  “She WHAT?” Leila gasped, big Bambi eyes twice their normal size. “I’m hoping there’s someone else and you’re not talking about Solomon Cole, the notorious walking sexual harassment lawsuit?”

  As soon as she said the word ‘sex’ I winced, shrinking back to the bed. I pulled the covers over my body, like Sol was hiding behind the potted plant, waiting for his moment to pounce. “That’s the one.” I shivered, dread creeping up and down my spine. “I knew it was a bad idea, but my mom...my mom...” How could I say that even as an adult, she had an unbreakable hold on me? That she knew just what to say to bend me to her will, even when I knew it was wrong?

  I exhaled, willing myself to go on. Not talking about this shit was why I turned to Scott, who was out of town but hooked me up with the sketchy guy with the tattoos and piercing eyes. I had to get the ugliness out of me before it swallowed me whole.

  “I walked into Sol’s office and I got a sick feeling before we even shook hands. The way he looked at me, Leila. Even when I’ve done shoots in underwear and bathing suits and the camera exposed everything...it didn’t compare to how I felt when Sol Cole looked at me. I wasn’t a person, with thoughts and beliefs and ideas and worth.” My voice cracked. “I was just sex. Whether I wanted it or not.”

  She sat on the bed beside me, moving to embrace me, to comfort me, but I pulled back.

  “If I let you do that, if I let you comfort me, I’ll never get it out.”

  She gave me a small nod that she understood, then I began again.

  “I wanted to leave, but my mother wanted the deal so badly. She left me alone with him.”

  Leila’s eyes were going to pop out of her head. “She didn’t...how...why...”

  “Because she’s just like him,” I said simply, tears blurring my vision. “I’m not a person. I’m a tool to make her money. Sol attacked me, just like I knew he would, and my mother didn’t try and save me. She didn’t even stick around.” I spat, swatting my tears angrily.

  Leila was ready to explode, angrily pacing up and down the length of the room. “That woman – she’s not a mother. She has no right to call herself one. A mother protects her kids. A mother would rather sacrifice herself than allow her kids to feel an iota of pain.” She flexed her fists. “She’s a heartless monster, Mia. And I...” She froze, her face softening as she met my gaze. “And I’m not helping, am I?”

  I chewed on my bottom lip, willing the tears to stop. “It’s nice to hear someone say the things I can’t say. Can’t admit. That kind of mother, a good mother – that’s all I ever wanted for me and Jenna.” I sniffed. “Life had other plans.”

  Leila looked like she had a few more choice words to share, but she just smoothed her fly away curls and collected herself. “So that’s when you called up Scott?”

  “No, Liam...” I held on to his name, a bright slice of happy cutting through the anger.

  “Liam? Is he a dealer or–”

  “No!” I said too loudly, nearly leaping to my feet to defend his honor. I clutched my blanket, my heart settling back where it belonged. “Liam works – worked for Sol.”

  Leila scrunched up her face, like she was sucking on a lemon. “Oh?”

  “But he isn’t like that.” I explained quickly. “He was the one that stopped Solomon before...” I didn’t need to finish. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.

  “I like this Liam guy already.” Leila tried on a smile, but it didn’t last. “So you were with him last night?”

  I shook my head. “He stopped by my place.” A chuckle slipped past my defenses. “He brought me flowers.”

  Leila was quiet, clearly waiting for the missing piece to help make sense of it all. The assault brought on by my mother could have led to me passing out in a crack house, but my savior bringing me flowers? There was a slight disconnect. To be honest, it didn’t make a lot of sense to me either.

  I scooted back onto my bed. “Everything was better when he was there. We talked, laughed, kissed.” I chewed on my nail, trying to stem the tide as heat consumed me. That kiss held more passion than every other sexual interaction I’d experienced combined. “But he wanted something I can’t give.”

  “Sex,” Leila said with a knowing nod.

  “Actually, I wanted sex,” I smirked. “He wanted more.”

  “Ah,” Leila’s cheeks darkened as she sank into the armchair near the bed. A few moments passed before she addressed the elephant in the room. “Why don’t you want more? And how did that lead to you waking up in the Heights with a chunk of your night missing?”

  I picked at a thread on my sheet. “Why don’t I want more? Because I’m focused on my career right now. I don’t have time for a relationship.”

  “You’ve been linked with your co-stars since you were 15. Relationships are your thing, aren’t they?”

  “Those were strategic,” I explained. There was Joshua Mercer, who played my love interest on the show. After a year or two, we called it quits and I moved onto Darren Lowe, the bad boy with a heart of gold that had a secret crush on my character. “Sure, we dated, and we did things that people who date do, but it wasn’t serious.” I admitted something a few blogs had hinted at. There was a reason our chemistry sizzled on screen and off screen it was just...meh. “It wasn’t real.”

  “And this thing with Liam – it’s real?”

  I fidgeted, dodging the question. “It could be. Maybe.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  I sighed with relief as someone knocked on the door behind her. I guess the doctor was tired of twiddling his thumbs. “Come on in!”

  But the doctor didn’t peek his head in. It was one of the nurses, smiling warmly at me, then Leila, before she stepped inside the room. “How’re you feeling, honey?”

  “Much better,” I said, forcing a smile. It wasn’t a complete lie, even though Leila’s accusatory glare said otherwise.

  “Feeling up for a visitor?” The nurse shared a conspiratorial wink with Leila. Leila just gaped at her then barreled to the door.

  “I swear to God, if that’s Charlotte Kent–”

  Liam stepped in the doorway, holding a bouquet of daisies and a nervous smile. Nervousness looked good on a guy that was that hot and confident. It made him hum
an.

  It made me fall a little harder.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Leila stepped into the hall, corralling the impatient doctor. The nurse lingered, snacking on invisible popcorn like she was watching some sweeping romance unfold before her eyes.

  Liam pointedly cleared his throat, flashing her a tight smile. She went bug-eyed and blushed crimson. She played it off by asking me some questions about my vitals before she squeaked out of the room, leaving us alone.

  Even though my backside was covered, I pulled my covers tighter around me. Liam acted like he didn’t notice, but the faint curl upward of his lips betrayed him.

  I decided to give him a hard time. “There’s nothing funny about hospitals, you know.”

  His green eyes rounded, then faded as he winced. “I know. I mean, I wasn’t...” When he cautioned a look in my direction, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

  My eyelashes fluttered in a way that denied innocence. “Me? Never.”

  “Keep it up,” he warned ominously, holding the bouquet just out of my reach. “According to my Google Fu, Gerbera daisies are your favorite.”

  I stuck out my tongue. “You can keep ‘em.” When he turned to the waste basket, I relented. “Don’t!”

  He pivoted back to me, a full-on smile brightening his face. He presented them with a flourish. “M’lady.”

  I accepted them graciously, bringing the rainbow colored flowers to my nose and inhaling deep. I gently grazed a fragile petal. “I’m pretty sure they’re the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

  “I think I know someone that’s got ‘em beat.”

  I knew he was talking about me, and it wasn’t some misplaced vanity. I felt his gaze, hot and electric. It stroked me like I stroked the flowers, like I was something to be treasured. That fuzzy warmth in my stomach wasn’t hunger, or at least, it wasn’t hunger for food. I hungered for love. To have something real. It was so overwhelming, so pathetic, that I cordoned off my heart. Turned the ice on full blast. It was easy because I wasn’t looking him in the eye.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” I snapped.

  “Like what?” he teased.

  “Like you like me,” I said tersely. The moment I locked my eyes on him, my defenses melted like an ice cream cone in July. Sweet. Sticky. Messy. I scrambled to hide just how happy I was to see him. “What are you doing here anyway? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were stalking me. Again.”

  His smile twitched, and I almost said ‘eff it and had the appropriate reaction to someone visiting you in the hospital...gratitude.

  “Why won’t you let me be nice to you?” he said softly.

  I put aside the flowers, tilting my nose in the air. “Because people aren’t nice to me unless they want something.” Well, except Leila. I knew she cared because any other publicist would have cut ties with a runaway train before they were smashed like a pancake. But any weakness in my logic would give him an in. “So, what do you want, Liam?”

  “I want to hear you say you’re not okay.”

  Confusion and surprise raced over me as I stared at him. “What?”

  “Well, most people would awkwardly say they came here to see if you were okay.” He scratched the stubble on his chin. I generally liked my guys clean shaven, but there was something sexy about the shadow. It was comfortable and easy, like pulling on my fleece leggings in the winter. Or curling up with my Kindle and a cup of hot tea. Being around him felt real. No pretenses, no ulterior motives. It felt effortless.

  “This is the second time in two months that you’ve been rushed to the ER,” he continued. “You look like you’re coming down from one hell of a bender. You’re not okay...and the first step to being okay is admitting that.”

  “What do you know about it?” I said brusquely.

  “My best friend overdosed to the point that there was nothing left to save.” Liam raked his hand through his dark hair, pain creasing the lines around his eyes. “He’s still breathing, but he died a long time ago. I don’t want that to happen to you.”

  I tugged at my stringy brown hair, not sure what to say. Guilt simmered in my chest. I doubted my mother cared other than what its impact on my career would be, but there was Dad and Jenna. Leila. My fans. Every time I took a handful of pills, dying for an escape, they were the ones that had to pick up the pieces. I stopped avoiding his gaze. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

  He stared at me, like he was wondering if I was being genuine or if I was taking a page from the book of people who asked how you were doing but didn’t really care enough to stick around for the answer. Satisfied, he gave me a small nod, but that wasn’t enough. I reached for his hand. He was surprised by the gesture, but he didn’t pull away, interlocking his fingers with mine.

  His eyes searched mine. Seeing me. Out of everyone, choosing me. There was nowhere to hide. I didn’t want to hide anymore.

  “I’m not okay,” I whispered. For one terrifying moment, I prayed he hadn’t heard me. Even though I was in a hospital gown looking like shit proved that I was screwed up, I didn’t want the first guy that really made my heart race to see me as something broken. A work in progress. I wanted him to see me the way I wanted to be. Accomplished and passionate about the works on my IMDB profile. Capable of dealing with crises without turning to a pill bottle or worse. I wanted to be the me that shined in his big green eyes. A girl worth fighting for.

  The tears were relentless, running down my cheeks as sobs rocked through me and spilled from my mouth. He took me in his arms, his smell like woodsy, comforting musk. Like those days I played with Jenna and the world was filled with magic and promise. Beautiful memories...that only made me cry harder, clutching him like I was terrified he’d go away, like all good things in my life did.

  “It’s gonna be okay, Mia.” His voice was low and soothing. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  I rested my forehead on his shoulder, wiping my nose. “I want to believe that. But how can I when the one person in the world who created me was so ready to toss me to a fucking rapist or replace me without a second glance?”

  He fondled a lock of my hair, his eyes intent. “You’re talking about your mother?”

  I couldn’t even confirm it without feeling like a knife was sinking into my chest. “She’s always been intense, willing to do anything or take out anyone who threatens me. I’ve been in some dicey situations...” I tapered off, remembering my shoot with Maury Richardson, a skeevy older man who had a hard-on the entire time he shot me for a spread in Vogue. I was sixteen, so they juxtaposed childlike imagery like oversized mouse ears and head-sized lollipops with lingerie. Mom had always been in my line of sight, giving him the dirty eye whenever his touch lingered. She’d even cussed him out when he told me to come back in two years without my mother. She protected me, one of the few times she almost walked away from a check because I said I was uncomfortable.

  There was a knot lodged in my throat that wouldn’t go away. Was it the truth stuck there, refusing to go down? Even though I’d seen and experienced her abandonment at Solomon’s Cole’s office, I still didn’t want to believe it.

  “It was always us against the world.” I pulled back, needing to break contact if I was going to finish and not get lost in him. It would be easy to plug my ears and shut all the bad out. “And then there was Sol. I only went because I never imagined...I never thought—” I bit down on my bottom lip to keep the sob inside. There was no use trying to hold in the tears. They wouldn’t stop coming, racing down my cheeks in hot, angry lashes. “And it’s my fault. Because I always bowed to her. I had to be a triple threat even though acting was my real love, the only thing that made everything else worth it. I powered through every audition. I grinned. I tolerated the verbal abuse. And that’s why she thought it was okay to leave me alone.” I dropped my head in my hands. “I did this.”

  His grip was fierce and immediate. He took my face, holding it ste
ady until I surrendered and looked at him.

  “I want you to listen to me, Mia. What happened in Sol’s office was not your fault. Do you hear me? Solomon Cole is a worthless piece of shit, and your mother?” He let out a growl, like if she were in the room he might’ve ripped out her throat. “I believe in karma...and they’ll get theirs. They’ll pay for what they’ve done.” His thumb caressed my cheek. “You’re talented, beautiful, and strong. It won’t be easy, but you’ll find your way. I know you will.”

  I made a skeptical sound. “How are you so sure?”

  “Because I believe in you,” he answered. “And I’ll be here waiting for you, rooting for you, and ready to give you a swift kick in the ass if you don’t get help. Especially if I ever see ‘Mia Kent rushed to the ER’ on my news roundup again and it’s by your own hand.”

  “Are we at the threatening bodily injuries phase of our relationship?” I smirked.

  “Now’s a good a time as any,” he winked. “I understand that you need an escape, but there are other less destructive ways.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  His eyes dropped to my mouth and warmth rushed through me. Want, lust, and...another word I refused to say aloud. Our lips met and he was right. The kiss made everything else fade to nothing.

  It was the most beautiful escape.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I regretted the ceasefire with my mother the minute I saw her face. It was more than the fact that her face was coated with an obscene amount of makeup, her pretty features dulled by foundation, heavy-handed blush, and fierce strokes of eyeliner. It was more than the disconcerting realization that she had on a very similar outfit to the one she wore when we went to Cole Productions. It was the way her Ronald McDonald colored lips spread into a toothy grin when I approached our table at Verve Cafe. I said ‘our’, because for years, we met every Sunday at the trendy restaurant for mimosas and ‘girl talk’. And even though I had almost ignored her pleading text, I missed her – and stupidly believed she’d be waiting, eager to give me an explanation about the Sol incident.