by Jordan Marie
I should have realized I couldn’t. Maybe it’s because of the shit I’ve been through with women and the film industry for the last few months…well… years really. Whatever the reason Hope seems to bring out the worst in me and from the way she throws her mouth at me…I bring it out in her, too.
Which means it’s good I’m leaving. It also means there’s no way there will be a repeat performance of the other night, which is regretful, but again it’s for the best. With my mind made up and feeling much calmer I make my way back to my room. I’ve already packed, with the exception of the things I will need after I shower in the morning. I’m not sure why that makes me feel sad? But I kind of am. I think it’s because this is the first time in months the paparazzi hasn’t found me. Despite Hope driving me crazy, and making me want to choke her (and fuck her again), that part has been nice.
I dig around my suitcase for my swim trunks and change quickly. I need to decide where I’m headed next. I like the rural setting. Even when I went to the bar the other night, there was no one there that really recognized me. The waitress said I looked familiar and I almost had a heart attack, but she shrugged it off—thankfully. I’m not sure you can get more rural than Clancy, Idaho but I’d really like to try. I know White is from Mason, Texas. He always said it was a slow, sleepy ranch town. Maybe I should go visit there. I grab a towel and head toward the pool, my mind still on where I’m going next and what I’m going to do.
I put the towel across the lounger and dive in. If I’ve missed one thing about my home in California it has been the pool. Still, even with the gates and security, I haven’t been able to enjoy it in forever. Going out to the pool hasn’t been an option. Last time I was there the press took so many pictures I had to come back in. Swimming has always been a way I could work off stress, clear my mind and breathe. It was the one exercise that saved me after football was over. This pool, though colder than I’m used to, feels like heaven. The one I have at home is much larger, but I do lap after lap, senselessly going through the motions. It’s as if I have my body on repeat and all I can do is concentrate on the motions and my breathing.
That is until…
“Daddy!” Hope’s son screams and he’s running towards the pool.
What the ever-loving-fuck?
“Daddy!” he squeals again.
Is she teaching her child to call me daddy? Has she no fucking brains at all?
I get out of the pool, standing on the side as water slides down my body dripping to the concrete under my feet. I’m preparing myself to stop the child from diving into the pool and drowning—since obviously it has no parental supervision. Before he gets close to the pool however, Hope comes dashing out, wrapping her arm around his stomach and swooping him up.
“Jack!” she cries, her voice panicked and body visibly shaking. “Mommy told you never to run away like that!”
“If you had been another minute behind him you may have lost your son! Do you not supervise him at all?!?!” I ask, and it’s a dick move to say it to her. I can tell she’s truly upset and honestly I know shit about raising a kid—or chasing after one for that matter. Still, like I said for some reason this woman brings out the worst in me and I say it.
Her gaze cuts across the distance and looks right at me. She’s pale and she still doesn’t have her emotions under control. There are tears running down her face. Guilt immediately eats at me and I start to apologize, but for some reason I can’t force the words out.
Probably because once again her son is calling me daddy! That can’t be a coincidence. This bitch has to be seriously twisted.
“I had him in his play-circle-thingy!” she cries. “It was supposed to be safe! He knocked it over while I was in the restroom!”
Okay. Complete honesty time. I kind of feel like an ass. She’s obviously distraught, and I don’t know anything about being a parent—especially a single parent—but I would imagine it is hard to find time for bathroom breaks. Still, I doubt standard protocol is to leave your wide awake child unsupervised, even if he is in one of those play pens. I mean, I had seen it when I was in there. It’s like an octagon plastic thing that sits flat on the floor. The child sits on the floor too and each wall has something to occupy his time. I thought it was kind of cute in a let’s-send-my-child-to-prison-and-make-it-look-fun kind of way. It looked sturdy, but judging by the way Jack ran out of the motel, it was little challenge for him. If I can see that, surely a mother can?
“Stop looking at me like that,” she snaps, bringing my attention back around to the conversation at hand.
“How am I looking at you?” I ask innocently, but I know.
“Like I’m some horrible mother!”
“I didn’t say that but…”
“You’re such an ass!”
“I’m just saying I don’t think it’s smart to leave a child of your son’s age unattended,” I shrug.
“He wasn’t unattended! He was in his—”
“Child prison. I know.”
“It’s not a prison! It’s a play circle! And he loves it!”
“Keep him in it often?”
“Oh my God! I can’t wait for you to leave!” she huffs, turning back to the hotel.
I was leaving in the morning, but her words irritate me.
“Well, I couldn’t get another reservation until Tuesday, so tough luck lady. I’m here tomorrow night too!”
“What? No. That is not happening. You paid for one week and—”
“I may have paid for one week, but I had it reserved for two and technically my first week isn’t up until Tuesday morning so…” I trail off with an easy shrug.
“They’re coming tomorrow to work on the air conditioning!” she cries.
“So? That’s not my problem,” I tell her, almost enjoying this.
“It will be when you hear all the noise and all those people are around trying to work!”
“Noise and people don’t bother me. I’m used to it with what I do for a living.”
“You mean you work? I figured you were a bum,” she says, shrugging and adding a snide smile.
“Because bums can rent your place for the week and pay cash.”
“You could have been a bank robber, I suppose. Though with your attitude, maybe a male stripper. Those guys always think they’re God’s gift to women.”
“A male stripper? I guess I should thank you. That means you like my body—but then we established that the other night didn’t we? I mean you kept moaning I was—”
“Will you stop!?!? My son is listening!”
My gaze cuts to the child she’s holding. Oddly enough he seems to be watching our exchange silently, but he’s also happy. He’s grinning from ear to ear. I have the strangest urge to join him.
“How many male strippers have you met?” I ask, idly.
“One, but he was cocky just like you.”
“Speaking of cocky—”
“We weren’t. I’m leaving. Stay tomorrow if you want, but it’s not my fault if you’re miserable,” she growls.
“I’ll need my sheets changed again,” I inform her back, and I don’t bother hiding my smile now—since she can’t see it. In response she holds her hand up in the air and flips me off. “Aren’t you worried your son will pick that up?” I ask as innocently as I can manage.
In response she slams the door. I stand there for a minute and the only thing I can think of is that I haven’t smiled in months and I really wish Hope would come back out.
I shake off that thought and go back to the pool. That’s insanity talking.
Maybe I should leave in the morning…
15
Hope
“Did you know the railing by the pool is loose?” Aden asks, walking through the front door. I’m sitting behind the counter in the reception room of the motel. I have Jack in his highchair behind me eating and there’s a portable DVD player sitting on the counter I have Moana playing on. Jack loves it and out of all of his favorite cartoons this one has the
Rock in it—hence it’s my favorite.
I yawn and look at the man who has somehow invaded my dreams. I’d like to call them nightmares, but they haven’t been about what an ass he is. The dreams have been about sex. Pure sex. Maybe Daria is right and I’ve just gone too long without sex. I look at Aden, who unfortunately has the kind of body that would melt any woman, has slumbery-sexy dark eyes that are definitely the kind to make ovaries everywhere explode, a slight beard that is a mix of salt and pepper and just unkempt enough to make you wonder what it would feel like between your thighs. He’s the perfect fantasy and then he opens his mouth and all I can think…
“Time to buy more batteries,” I mumble to myself, definitely thinking my vibrator is a better choice of the two.
“Excuse me?” he asks, his face marked with confusion.
“Nothing,” I yawn again. I’ve had exactly two hours of sleep. Jack was fussy all night. He’s eating breakfast fine this morning, but he complained of a stomach ache all night last night. I’ve got my elbow propped on the counter, my hand holding the side of my face. Coffee is sitting in front of me and I’m letting the steam and the smell slowly bring me around, my hair hasn’t been brushed, it’s pulled back and secured with a scrunchie, but that’s it. I have on flannel pajama bottoms which are cute and a mix of lime green, peach and gray squares, but probably not what I should be wearing at the motel—though I could point out that despite Aden’s annoying presence we are not open, so I don’t really care. The top is a gray long sleeved shirt that says, “Bed hair, don’t care!”—which seems appropriate. The last thing I need is for Aden to walk in looking sexy—especially after the dreams I’ve had.
“What about the pool railing?” he asks. “It needs fixed. Someone could fall and get hurt.”
“It’s on my list,” I sigh, getting annoyed because he’s supposed to be gone this morning and he’s bitching about stuff that is not ready because technically I don’t open for a week and he knew that! And maybe I’m also annoyed because he shouldn’t look sexy this early in the morning and he shouldn’t be invading what little sleep I’ve managed to get.
“You’ll get sued if someone falls,” he warns and that makes my eyes pop open, actually it wakes my whole body and I tighten with stress.
“Meaning you’ll sue me?”
“Well, I know it’s there, I was warning you it could happen. I would think as the owner of a business this would be a major concern of yours. I was therefore trying to be helpful.”
“It doesn’t sound helpful, it sounds like you’re being an ass and planning on suing me,” I tell him bluntly and being a bitch—because like I said, he’s annoying me.
“Are you always so grumpy in the mornings?” he asks, his face cocked to the side.
“Only around people I just really like,” I say sarcastically. My barb delivers a hit though. I can tell by the way his face tightens and his body straightens up.
“Good,” I think quietly to myself, while trying to tap down my guilt. He’s been a prick so he doesn’t get to have me feel sorry for him now.
He stands there looking at me. I get the feeling he’s studying me, as if he wants to say something important to me. Then he just shakes his head.
“See to it that it’s fixed,” he growls, before turning on a heel and stomping off. He mutters under his breath, but I can’t make out what he’s saying—which is probably for the best.
“Mommy pway?” Jack asks and I give him a smile.
I need to forget about Aden Smith. It’s time to color with my son and that’s infinitely more important.
16
Aden
“I should have my head examined,” I growl under my breath, stomping away and slamming the door for good measure. “The woman is just infuriating. I was only trying to help her by pointing out something she needs to get fixed. Just like every other woman on the planet she had to overreact. This is why I quit fooling with them. They make such a fucking drama out of everything. I’ve never had to deal with women much. It’s been easy… more like business than anything else. They have something I want and I have something they want. Hell, Hope is the first woman who manages to get under my skin. She actually fights with me. Still, maybe that’s her angle. I keep forgetting she crawled into my bed, she’s playing a game just like all the other women in my life—she just has a different playbook. That’s all it is.
Now if I could just forget what we did in that bed. Fuck, I woke up last night stroking my cock and I swear I could smell her scent all around me and her taste on my lips. I awoke desperate, needing more from her. So desperate, I almost marched over to her place and took what I needed. I was pretty sure she would give it to me…well I admit, it was probably closer to fifty-fifty. I was stupid for staying here another night. It’s accomplished nothing. I should have been long gone with Clancy, Idaho and a certain woman with warm caramel hair that reminds me of apples in the fall... in my rearview mirror.
With a sigh that feels like it was dredged from the bottom of my soul I head toward my room. I feel older than dirt lately and being here for some reason makes me feel older. I never thought I’d find myself in this shape at this point of my life. I’m at the age now where I envisioned a home, a good woman and being… settled.
That’s a fucking joke.
The only thing I’ve settled is that women are evil and life is a fucking bitch.
I demanded Hope supply a television in the room earlier and she brought one in here that looked like it could be the very first ever made. I was genuinely surprised it wasn’t black and white when I turned it on. I fall back on the bed, and turn it on, but within thirty minutes of sifting through the channels I’m bored to tears. Too keyed up to do much else, I slip out of my clothes and into my swim trunks. They’re still a little damp from yesterday, but it doesn’t matter. They will get wet in the pool anyway. I tag a towel as I head out the door, throwing it over my shoulder. I’m shocked when I see Hope by the pool with her son.
“What are you doing?” I ask stupidly, since it’s pretty clear what she’s doing. She’s got swim trunks on her son and she’s wearing a very modest navy blue one-piece swimsuit. I can’t remember seeing a woman wear a one-piece suit. It’s usually a bikini and the more skin it shows the better. What Hope is wearing shouldn’t be sexy. I’ve seen dresses that show more skin than she is right now. But she might be the sexiest thing I’ve seen. Except for the color, she kind of reminds of the babes from Baywatch—that old stupid television show I enjoyed puberty with.
“Swimming?” she asks, looking up from the small round soaking pool that is about five feet away from the actual pool. She’s sitting down inside the circle with her son on her lap. He’s splashing in the water and playing with what I would assume are bath toys.
“I thought this was for guests,” I ask, still shell-shocked and I’ll even admit that I shouldn’t have put it like that. It didn’t exactly come out like I meant for it to. I’m too busy trying to control my stiff cock to pay much attention. You would think I could control my fucking hormones at my age, especially with her son here.
Apparently not.
“My son wanted to play in the water. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No, of course not. It just seems…”
“What?” she huffs and I get the feeling that with this woman I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.
“It just seems unusual I guess.”
“Maybe if we were open for business, but like I’ve said time and time again—we’re not open.”
“I can come back later if you want?” I ask, and for the first time in my life I’m unsure of what to do around a woman. That’s not exactly true, it seems Hope is always throwing me off my game. Not that I ever had much of a game. There was never a need for it when women had a tendency to fall on my dick.
“It’s fine,” she sighs out, saying it in a way that I’m pretty damn sure that it’s not fine, but I shrug it off. If she wants me gone she should have the balls to t
ell me. Although I’m damn glad she doesn’t have balls.
I walk into the pool, as Hope goes back to talking to her son. The silence between us is strained, at least on my end. It occurs to me I don’t really know how to be around a woman where sex is not on the table… and one who has a kid.
I pretend to be floating and absorbed in being alone. Yet, I find myself listening to the two of them play and laugh. I’ve not really been around kids before. I’ll be turning forty next year, and I’ve never really wanted kids. My parents didn’t really want anything to do with me, and I made up my mind never to be the absentee parents they were. Which truthfully led to the decision never to have children. I had a career, a busy life and there was just no room for children. Listening to Hope talk to her son and the little boy’s laughter, I can’t help but wonder if I missed out on something.
I watch out of the corner of my eye as Hope pulls a sponge out of the pool and then squeezes it over Jack’s head. Jack throws his head back, laughing in this adorable tone. He’s actually laughing so hard that his whole body tightens and shakes with it. The sound of his laugh does something to me. It gives me this strange feeling in my chest and I can’t hide my smile.
“Mommy,” he laughs again and this time he wraps both his little arms along the side of her neck and hugs her tight letting his head lay down on her chest. I watch as Hope’s face goes soft and she lowers her head against him. It’s a private moment and I feel like I’m intruding, but I can’t look away. I forget I’m supposed to be floating and minding my own business. My body scrapes against the far end of the pool where the net was leaning, at the edge of the concrete, against one of the loungers. My hand hits it and causes it to splash into the pool—on top of me.
“Shit!” I growl, embarrassed as the net and long blue aluminum pole it is attached to, crash on my face. My chin getting the most of the hit and the metal leaving it stinging.
“Shit!” Jack mimics and my face jerks around to see Hope frowning at me.