by Eva Haining
This is what home feels like.
Showing Maisie the sights has been more difficult than I anticipated. A few months away from constant cameras had me dreaming of getting lost in the crowd, weaving our way through the big tourist spots unnoticed. The reality has been something else entirely.
Wherever we go, a crowd of eager reporters follows. It’s the payment you make when you choose success as an actor. I ponied up years ago, but I can see it’s getting to her. I’ve tried to pull as many strings as I can to make sure we have adequate bodyguards and that locations are cordoned off where possible to allow her some breathing space.
The familiar hum of the city courses through my veins as we walk hand in hand through some of my favorite places. I’ve missed the vibrant air of possibility that thrums through the streets like a tangible heartbeat.
I took her to Madame Tussaud’s, and we had a few laughs convincing people I was a waxwork. Maisie was amused by it, especially when she started encouraging people to take pictures next to me. Waiting until the last second, she’d snap their reaction when I slung my arm over the unsuspecting victim’s shoulder. Squeals and screams as recognition dawned. I wouldn’t normally do stuff like this, but it’s fun to show her a softer side of fame.
“Oh my God. I thought that last girl was going to straight-up pee her pants.” Maisie laughs so hard she lets out a little snort. She’s so cute.
“See, it’s not all bad. It’s great when you get to make someone’s day.”
“Do you do that kind of thing a lot?” Her body falls in close to my side as we head back to the car.”
“Actually, this was a first.”
“Are you kidding? This was awesome. You should do it more often.” Her smile is so broad it outshines the sun.
“Tell you what… we can go hang out on Hollywood Boulevard one day once the trailers are released. You can get a taste of it yourself. People will be tripping over themselves to get a selfie with the great Maisie Bryant.” Shoving me with all her might, I barely budge.
“Why would anyone want a picture with me? I’m nobody.” An indescribable pang of something stirs deep in my gut.
Stepping in front of her, I cup her face in my hands, holding her gaze. “You’re everything.” Lowering my lips to hers, my chest aches. No matter how much I want to, I can’t shield her from what’s coming over the next few months. I’ll do my best to get alongside her, but it’s a baptism of fire, and no matter what happens, she needs to make peace with the notoriety that comes with being a movie star. I have no doubt Hollywood is going to fall just as hopelessly in love with Maisie as I have. The real question is, will she fall in love with Hollywood? Will she fall in love with me?
Since the night I told Maisie I was falling for her, she’s been careful not to spill her guts. I know she has feelings for me, and I’d like to think the more time we spend together, the deeper those emotions become. As bare and raw as she was on set, she’s decidedly guarded with me of late. I know she’s missing Kingsbury Falls, so I’m trying to give her time to process and adjust, even though everything inside of me is screaming to claim her as mine. What a Neanderthal.
We have our first interview tomorrow. Although the movie is in editing, Ethan thought it would be good to build momentum. I haven’t done any formal press since the split with Cece, and with pictures of Maisie and me sightseeing circulating the internet, speculation is rampant.
I’m torn tonight as I lay replete with Maisie nestled at my side, her soft, even breaths like a soothing metronome. I love what we have right now. As many times as we’ve been spotted out together, there’s still an air of privacy that surrounds us—a mere whiff of what we had back in Kingsbury Falls. My brain tells me the sooner we introduce her to the media, the easier it will be for her by the time the hype surrounding the movie takes off, but my heart says something else. I want to keep her to myself, to protect what we have for as long as possible.
I’ve seen what press exposure can do to a relationship. I know what rising fame can do to an actress. I can’t imagine notoriety going to Maisie’s head, it’s just not in her nature, but I’ve been wrong before. So wrong.
As if sensing my unease, Maisie stirs in my arms.
“Hey.”
“Hey, sleepyhead. You hungry?”
Stretching out at my side with feline grace, she nuzzles at my chest. “Famished.” As I move to untangle myself from her delicious limbs, she grabs hold, pulling me back. “I can wait. I don’t want you going anywhere.”
“Round four? I appreciate the vote of confidence, baby, but I need sustenance if I’m going to lose myself in you again.” Crawling over me, she straddles my thighs, her hair falling over her delectable breasts in a waterfall of curls.
“Challenge accepted.”
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” And just like that, the sight of her has my cock twitching to life. I’m overcome with a rush of love for the woman on top of me. She’s perfect. Resplendent in her beauty. Before I realize what I’m saying, the words trip from my lips. “Move in with me.”
Her body stiffens. “What?” Running my hands over the soft skin of her thighs, it only strengthens my resolve.
“I know we said you’d only stay here until you found a place of your own, but I don’t want you to leave. Stay with me, move in.” The shock on her face is a dagger to my soul. Surely, this isn’t that big a leap?
“I don’t know what to say.” Without another word, I pull her lips to mine before flipping her over, tucking her small frame beneath me, caging her in.
“Say yes.” I drop my gaze to her mouth, watching as she bites down on her bottom lip.
“I…”
“I love you, Mais. You know I do. Is it so wrong to think maybe you feel the same way? Or that maybe someday you could?” I can’t bear to meet her eyes, instead dropping my head to her neck, brushing my lips over her soft skin.
“I don’t want to live in the house you shared with her.” She may as well have thrown an ice bucket on my cock. With a quick roll, I’m off the bed and dragging on a pair of boxers before heading for the kitchen.
Fucking Cece. I just can’t leave that shit behind, can I?
Grabbing whatever’s in the fridge, I fire up the stove, practically throwing a frying pan on the burner, omelets with anything and everything thrown in. If she won’t accept my love or a roof over her head, the least I can do is make her a meal.
My muscles tense when I hear her padding down the hallway, my heart stammering in my chest at the sight of her in one of my shirts.
“Can we talk? I want to explain.”
“It’s not really fair to come out here wearing that and looking the way you do. At least give a guy a fighting chance.” I turn my attention back to the eggs with laser focus, but as her hands snake around my waist, her scent softens the serrated edges of my ego.
“I don’t want to fight.”
“It seems to be what we’re good at.”
“We’re good at other things, too.” I stop her hand as she reaches down over my boxer shorts.
“Don’t.”
“Jasp…”
“Do you love me, Maisie?” Her eyes are wild as I turn to face her. “I’ll take your abject horror as my answer.” Threading her fingers up into my hair, she pulls me down, her lips finding mine in a tender offering—a truce.
“I feel it all, but I can’t seem to find the words.”
“Why?” I hate that I ache for her to speak those three little words.
“Because this is all so fast.”
“We’ve been sleeping together for months. We practically lived together at your place. How is this any different?” Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but she won’t let herself cry.
“Since I met you, my life has been like a tilt-a-whirl, and I don’t know which way is up. I was a waitress and a bartender and a librarian. I did amateur theater in a one-horse town. Then you came along, and suddenly, I’m starring in a movie, and I’m here in LA.” Leaning forw
ard, she plants a kiss on the scruff of my jaw. “And then there’s you. We fight all the time, and yet you make me yearn for you in ways I’ve never felt before. I don’t trust myself. What if this is all about the characters? What we’re feeling right now.”
“It’s not.”
“How do you know? You’ve dated co-stars before. What’s so different?”
“This is about Cece? That fucking bitch just keeps on tearing shit apart in my life.” I move out of Maisie’s grasp, unable to stand the burn of her skin on mine.
“Christ, Jasper! You lived here with her. In this house. You obviously thought it was going to last.”
“So I should be punished for believing she loved me? Haven’t I suffered enough?” As she reaches for me, I recoil. “I don’t want your pity.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“No. You meant that you think I say ‘I love you’ to every woman I have to screen fuck. That I can’t tell the difference. Poor, sad Jasper can’t tell fact from fiction.”
“I’m not saying that at all. This is all new to me. Before you, I’d never had to kiss someone or make love to them on screen. I know what I feel, but I’m terrified to trust it. Surely, you can understand that?”
“Not really. You’re a smart woman, and it’s not as if you melted into my arms like some fangirl. You bust my balls at every turn, and you fought us being public. Maybe I’ve just been missing all the warning signs telling me you’re not in this.” Fuck. I think I just poked the bear—the southern girl scary-ass bear.
“Jasper Savage, you don’t get to turn this on me. I’m not ready to live in the place you shared with your ex. SO SUE ME! I don’t want her sloppy seconds.” The moment she says it, I can see the regret in her eyes.
“I’m sloppy seconds? Wow. Just rip my heart out of my chest and stomp on it, Mais. It would be a hell of a lot less painful.”
“Not you. I just… we sleep in the bed you shared with her. We eat breakfast at the same island you sat across from her. We bathe in the same tub. Would you be okay with that if it was all those things, but the ex was mine?”
“Take a good, hard look around you. Go on. I’ll wait.” She sheepishly scans the room before landing back on me. “There isn’t a single surface in this house that she touched. When we walked in here together, it wasn’t just you who was seeing it all for the first time. I had every trace of her removed… the bed, the bathrooms, the floors, the wall colors. There isn’t an item of furniture in this place that was here with her.
“That’s how much she messed with my head. I thought she gutted me like a fish, but standing here in front of you, knowing you’re questioning your feelings for me… makes what she did feel like child’s play. The fact that you think I’d ask you to move in with even a remnant of that bitch tells me you have no idea how deeply I feel for you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for assuming or sorry because you’re not sure you love me?”
“Both.” Her words are like a kick to the groin. I want to drop to the floor and wail, but thankfully, my male pride saves me any further humiliation.
“I can’t be here right now. If you need to wait until your next leading man pulls you in and puts his mouth on you to know if I’m the guy for you, then I’m not the guy for you.”
The frantic rise and fall of her chest and the tears rolling down her cheeks make me want to ease her pain, but if I don’t walk away right now, I’m going to beg her to stay, fall to my hands and knees and tell her I can love enough for both of us, and that what we have is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced with a co-star.
Forcing one foot in front of the other, I propel myself forward, heading for my closet. I just need a few things, a couple of days’ worth. Stuffing random clothes in a bag, I pull on jeans and a t-shirt before grabbing my keys, wallet, and phone.
“Where are you going?” Her voice is small, echoing in the cavern that’s opened up between us.
“I’m going to crash at Hazel’s. I’m not going to make even more of a fool of myself over you. When you figure out what you want, let me know.”
“Don’t go.”
“I guess you called it. Coming to LA changes things between us. I thought you were worried it was going to change me. I never expected it to change you.”
I’m not strong enough to leave without feeling her skin. Pressing my lips to hers, I drink in the smell of her perfume mixed with the heady scent of sex, pouring the heartbreak threatening to consume me into this one agonizing kiss. When I can’t stand it any longer—the gnawing ache of her indecision—I head for the door, willing myself not to look back.
Chapter Eighteen
MAISIE
I’m on the verge of hyperventilating as I wait for Jasper to arrive. Today is our first interview, and I haven’t heard from him since he left yesterday. My eyes are puffy having cried myself to sleep in his bed, hugging the pillow that holds his scent close to my chest.
It’s nice to see some friendly faces as my stylists primp and preen me until I look almost the right side of normal.
“Is Jasper here yet?”
“Yeah, he’s getting ready in the other room. He’ll meet you in there.” My heart skips a beat just knowing he’s close by. My palms are sweating, worried about how he’ll react when our eyes meet. Was he as miserable as I was last night?
Cold dread runs through me as I realize I have an interview to do. I’ve never done one before, and I thought Jasper was going to be holding my hand through this. My breath quickens as my vision starts to swim.
“Are you okay? You look like you’re about to pass out.” The makeup artist’s voice sounds distant as I drop my head between my legs, struggling to catch my breath.
“Jasper. Get Jasper. I need him.” Barely able to choke out the words, I close my eyes in an attempt to stop the room from spinning.
Moments later, the door is thrown open as Jasper skids to his knees in front of me.
“Get her some water and a cold washcloth. We need to put it on the back of her neck.” The rasp in his voice soothes me as be barks commands.
“I can’t do this. I’m going to throw up.” His warm hands clasp tight over mine, his voice low at my ear.
“I’ve got you, Mais. You can do this. You were born for this.”
“Oh God.” Freeing his hands, he moves to my side, rubbing gentle circles on my back.
“Deep breaths. In… out… in time with mine.” I focus on his breathing, the smell of his cologne invading my senses with every inhale.
“Why are you being so nice to me? I don’t deserve it after…”
“Because I love you.” A wave of nausea washes over me as our fight floods my mind. “I shouldn’t have pushed you. I’m sorry.”
“I hated being at your house without you.”
“We don’t need to talk about this now. Just focus on your breathing. I’ll go and field some questions. Take all the time you need. I’ll be in there when you’re ready.” Pressing his lips to my forehead, he leaves me bereft, his cool demeanor firmly back in place.
My head is swimming. All I want to do is crawl into Jasper’s lap and lose myself in the warmth of his chest. Then it dawns on me. He put everything on the line for this movie. If I blow this interview, or any interview, I could ruin this for him. I’ve already hurt him with my inexperience and unwillingness to trust how I feel. The least I can do for him is make sure this movie is a success.
I steel my nerves, taking a few moments to compose myself and let the stylists rework me before getting to my feet. With my hand on the door handle, I take a deep breath, relishing the remnants of Jasper’s cologne on my dress.
Laughter fills the air as I step into the room. Jasper is definitely in his comfort zone, his charm doing a number on the stout journalist sitting across from him. I see it works with men as well as women.
“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Bryant,” he says, standing to greet me, offering his hand in a firm shake. “My name is Richard Wil
liams, I work with the Los Angeles Times. Please, have a seat.”
“Why the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Williams.” I sound like a southern hick as I perch myself on the couch next to Jasper. Wanting to grab his hand for comfort, I clasp my hands in my lap, so tight my knuckles are turning white. So close, and yet the distance between us is palpable.
“So, Maisie, J.J. has been telling me you were originally going to be an extra on this movie. What went through your mind when they approached you to take the lead role?” With a quick glance in Jasper’s direction, his smile settles my mind whether it’s genuine or not.
“Well, if I’m honest, I said no,” gesturing to Jasper. “This guy really knows how to grind my gears, and I knew he wasn’t my biggest fan.”
“That true, J.J.?” I can see the journalist is lapping it up. I guess my southern bluntness is refreshing. Jasper rakes his hand over the stubble on his jawline.
“Can I plead the fifth?”
“No word of a lie, I thought he could start a fight in an empty house. I’m now realizing that maybe my momma was right… I’m the only hell she ever raised.”
“So do you guys get along now? Do you have a good working relationship?” I stumble over my words, looking to Jasper to interject.
“We still fight like cats and dogs, don’t we, Maisie?”
“We do.” I turn my attention back to the man across from me. “But I couldn’t have asked for a better leading man. I’ve learned so much, and I’m hoping y’all are going to love this movie. It’s near and dear to my heart, and I just want to do Jasper… I mean J.J. proud. This is all a fairy tale to me. I still can’t believe I was lucky enough to be picked to play across from Hollywood royalty. I feel like I’m riding a gravy train with biscuit wheels.”
Mr. Williams seems tickled pink by my accent, or maybe he thinks I’m just talking crazy, but as I chance a glance in Jasper’s direction, I’m rewarded with his heartfelt grin. Shaking his head at my vernacular, I know he enjoys the way I express myself. If I need to sell the hometown southern girl plucked from obscurity, then I’m going to give LA the best performance of my life. I have to make sure this movie proves that Jasper’s faith in me wasn’t misplaced.