He smiled smugly at the exhausted, panting John, his own hair barely tousled by the encounter.
And Lindsay shook her head. God, he was charming.
***
Jessica first appeared as Eve in episode four. Her presence almost unsettled her, Lindsay, as a viewer. She was already starting to enjoy John and Charlie’s easy rapport. John and Charlie were partners in a private detective agency, at least that was what it looked like to everyone else. The show was leisurely in pace, and spent a lot of time on John and Charlie banter. Lindsay remembered the question from the film school panel (“Are they lovers?”) and understood why fans would consider it. Definitely these two went way back. They solved a bunch of cases, took on mundane ones, but it looked like this agency was a front for an ongoing investigation that was supernatural in nature. To the rest of upstate New York, on this show, there was a serial killer hiding bodies along the lonely stretches of beach near the coast. To John and Charlie, it was an old enemy that had resurfaced.
They’d had Jake shirtless in a bunch of episodes (in the shower, out for a run) but episode five was his love scene. Also episodes six and seven. And they were hot ones. Lindsay didn’t realize that she’d know that much about Jessica Fontana’s body, what her skin looked like when she was cold. She didn’t like seeing Jake’s tongue, his actual tongue, flick over Jessica’s skin, and while she was sure they weren’t actually doing it on screen, well, now she had an idea what it actually must have been like.
But it wasn’t what she and Jake were like together.
She preferred their sex, oddly, to the Hollywood version.
That she was able to sit through all of this was a wonder to her. But she was enjoying the show, by now, and whatever. The love scenes were part of it.
By episode eight, Eve was revealed to have betrayed them. Episode nine was when John actually killed her. The scene was satisfying and brutal, and this show wasn’t shy about brutal killing or nudity, no wonder the kids weren’t allowed to watch it. The season finale, episode ten, rolled around, and the serial killer mystery was solved, and by then Charlie knew that Eve his love had turned traitor, but didn’t know John had killed her.
Zane and Brian, hilariously, brought her food and drinks so she wouldn’t have to leave the couch. They also happily reported to Cordelia her progress.
It was almost five in the afternoon when she started season two.
“Can I take a break?” she cheekily asked Zane.
Her niece was all too eager to be considered an authority figure. “For a few minutes. And then I’ll bring you dinner while you watch.”
She was enjoying the show anyway, she had to admit, and it wasn’t a chore to start “play all” on the new disc.
Season two’s premiere started with a title card informing her that it was the year 1899. She knew about this, kind of, but was still a pleasant surprise after a binge watch. Season one had hinted that John and Charlie had been around for a while (there were running jokes about “the grandma incident,” “the harbor splash,” “that time on the Brooklyn Bridge” that were always referenced but never explained), and only now was the show beginning to reveal what that meant. And then it was season two, set entirely in 1899, with “John” and “Charles,” still themselves, but officers in the New York City Police Department. The season-long case, it established early on, was John and Charles searching for the man/monster they believed to have killed the people attributed to “Jack the Ripper” over a decade earlier.
Jessica’s appearance was limited to two episodes, significant because the first season established that John had some sort of power related to seeing the past, and Charles’s was seeing a limited future. Jessica as Eve could see simultaneous presents, and when they “met” in episode seven, Lindsay hated her less. The three tried for an episode to work together, somehow making their abilities form a complete set, but Eve and John didn’t get along. She also didn’t want to do what they were doing, apparently responding to a call to rid the world of some nasty elements.
In episode nine, Charles was abducted by “The Ripper”, and god, it was almost midnight, and her eyes were hurting from all the television, but she couldn’t help but watch more. She was hooked. She wanted to know how they’d save him. (Because season one happened, and it was a hundred years in the future of season two, so obviously he was saved right?)
Episode ten, season two, was the last episode. God, the tension. John didn’t know that Charles was being held in an attic down the block from where they lived (a time with no phones – how easy it was to lose people!), and any special abilities he had sadly did not prove useful. (Maybe if he hadn’t shooed Eve away, and it wasn’t like he could call her back...) This all led to a tense moment where the cops were chasing The Ripper, whose final plan for Charles involved hanging him from a noose in that horrible attic, and have him die there while leading the cops miles in another direction.
But John tracked back, at the last minute. Tracked back to The Ripper’s last location, and let the others have the potential glory of catching him.
It was difficult for Lindsay to watch. Jake didn’t look much like Jake, when he was playing Charles in 1899—the hair was different, he was always grimy for some reason—but seeing him tied up, helpless, it was still him, and it was still hard.
The episode cut from him in that attic, to John frantically looking for him, one building down the block at a time, one room after another.
He didn’t have his hands tied but he couldn’t struggle for very long. Charles held on to the noose as long as he could, but, in a moment that made even Lindsay’s heart stop, he let go.
He let go, and as the show often did, the camera lingered, on the morbid swing of his body.
His fist hung limply to his side. Thumb tucked in.
Lindsay sat up, scrambled for the remote, and skipped back a few frames.
Yeah, she saw it again.
“It looks so much worse on screen,” said Jake, for real, from behind her. He was there, in her sister’s living room, in her house, in Fremont.
“Oh my god,” she said, shocked in more ways than one. “This is your accident.”
Jake stepped closer, eyes fixed on the TV, the show paused at that moment. “I haven’t actually watched it. It’s the first time I’m seeing it. Been watching from here since you started it.”
“How did you even...?”
“Zane let me in when you were in the bathroom. I’ve been upstairs with them while you watched.”
“Are they still up?” It might seem like she was the worst babysitter aunt in history, but Zane and Brian were in grade school and did know how to handle themselves around their own house. For a few years now “babysitting” really only meant being the designated adult.
“They’re sleeping. Not too late past the bedtime,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”
Her brain was starting to overload, new thoughts in danger of spilling out. “Wait. Please. Help me understand. This was your accident. What happened?”
“They really did have a rope around my neck. I was on a harness, so I wasn’t in danger of actually breaking my neck, but they said the rope was too tight. They needed me to stay quiet and still for that swing, and we did it for a while, and I...I passed out.”
“You almost died.”
“I didn’t. This kind of thing happens sometimes. Someone got fired, and they kept it quiet for a lot of reasons.”
He almost died. Didn’t he? Wouldn’t prolonged lack of oxygen have led to that? And he called out for her when he did. In the way only she would know. He probably didn’t even think about it.
“I’ve been so stupid,” she said. “About you, and everything.”
“It’s late,” Jake said, smiling. “I’m here for a few more days. You’ve been watching too much TV. We can talk tomorrow.”
“Did you put them up to this?”
“No,” he said. “Cordelia knew I was in town and told me to come over. I didn’t know you’d be here
. I thought you were kidding when you said you never watched the show. You never watched it, really?”
“I’m sorry,” Lindsay said, but not about the show. And she wasn’t just sorry, she was repentant. She was an idiot. She was ready, so ready. “I’m sorry I doubted you. I know how much you love me. I didn’t want to believe that it was possible.”
He walked toward the couch, closer, and laid a hand under her chin as she looked up at him. “Don’t you want time to think about it?”
“No,” she said. “I don’t need it. Stay here with me, don’t leave. I have about four minutes of this TV show left to watch. Charles gets saved right?”
***
“Is John actually a werewolf?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Those days when he insists on not going out. Do the viewers think he’s a werewolf?”
Jake laughed, his chest rumbling pleasantly against hers. “I’ll remember that.”
“Do you know what you both really are?”
“I’m not going to tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because you care now. I don’t want to ruin it for you.”
“So next season is French revolution?”
“Yeah. Mostly.”
“But you don’t do accents. Will you do an accent?”
“I didn’t do an accent two seasons. It doesn’t mean I can’t.”
“Will you be speaking French?”
“I won’t tell you.”
“God. What’s the point of sleeping with you then?” Lindsay shifted her hip, turning more toward him, making sure he still had room on his half of the couch. He’d joined her there as she finished season two, and then answered random questions she threw at him, between makeout sessions so intense that she already came twice.
“I love you,” she said, and it made her feel good to say it that way. Like she was happy about it. Like it wasn’t a sad statement of fact. She kept saying it actually, liking how it sounded each time. It was beginning to sink in that she had almost lost him, and no matter how much he downplayed what happened to him, she still could have lost him any number of stupid ways, lost him without ever knowing how he felt.
That was worse than any fear she may have had when she first met him.
“I kind of don’t want to let you out of my sight now,” she admitted.
“You’ll get over it,” he said. “But you’re getting a key to my place in Vancouver and you’re welcome any time.”
“I’m going to figure out my work sked so I can join you in France for a bit.”
“I’ll stay with you in New York when I get back.”
“But my place is tiny. You have a house. It’s huge. Took me hours to clean it.”
“I noticed. Did you find anything incriminating?”
“No.”
“Lindsay, I don’t care how large or small the place is.”
“All right.” Her fingers toyed with the buttons on his shirt. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being brave enough to do this. I wouldn’t have been.”
“It’s not being brave. One of us just had to ask the obvious question.”
“Why are you even here by the way? Did Cordelia…?”
“Paperwork,” Jake said. “At Addison Hill. Arranging to get a transfer approved and my previous undergrad years credited.”
“You’re going back to school?”
“Part of the plan that I didn’t tell you,” he said. “I’m finishing my degree. Looking at schools in New York City. I could work it out, even with publicity and season four going on. Aren’t you looking for a place to get your master’s too? You should do it now, you know, before slots close for next semester.”
It was then that it became that much clearer to Lindsay what Jake had in mind. It was an entirely new life, composed of what he wanted, and planned carefully so she’d be part of it, for as long as she wanted to.
Maybe they could do this.
“I’m so proud of you,” she told him. “Not just the show...you did so well at the conference. You really are amazing.”
“What can I say.” Jake’s mouth rested under her chin this time, planting soft kisses there. “I didn’t want to wait for the apocalypse.”
“Screw the apocalypse.”
“I’m not kidding. That was it, really, what I was thinking about, when I woke up in the hospital. You know what a real apocalypse would be like? You and I wouldn’t be together in it. If we lived apart. If the world fell apart, and you and I were on separate coasts, and countries, that’s it. Good luck finding each other. We’d never get to do for each other what we said we would. That’s just how it is. I don’t want to wait for any of that.”
Lindsay nodded. “We do what we want for each other and now.”
“That’s it,” he said. “You get it now.”
He angled up to kiss her mouth, and the kiss was beautiful. Delicious. Everything she wanted at the end of a crazy day. Everything she’d already had, several times within the hour alone, but couldn’t get enough of.
Everything Lindsay needed.
The End
Author’s Note
Rage Eternal is not a real show. But my husband Mike and I outlined and plotted five seasons of it anyway. We get carried away sometimes. To help me out, he also contributed knowledge from his years in environment, international development, and fantasy geekdom. I made up the rest.
Thank you, also, to Xena San Miguel, Dr. Suzette Castaneda-Wenceslao, Carissa Villacorta Songalia, Jan Sarte, Margarita Arguelles, Miya David, Georgene Sales, Christine Ocampo, Dek Samson, and Haydee Enoveso, for providing crucial bits and pieces and answering my questions, no matter how random they probably sounded.
Mina V. Esguerra
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The Harder We Fall
A Spotlight New Adult romance from Mina V. Esguerra
She knows it won't last...
Nicholas is unlike anyone Daria has ever dated, and yet he hasn't left her mind since she got her hands on the 23-year-old rugby player when he took a tumble during a game.
But they aren't even really dating; a fast fling is all they have time for. He's heading to Japan to play pro and is only in town to tie loose ends. She's graduating in three weeks, and is only covering his struggling rugby club to win an internship spot in a documentary that'll start filming in Europe.
Getting what they want means they don't get to stay together. But that doesn't mean they can't have fun—as long as they don't fall hard.
About the Author
Mina V. Esguerra learned everything she needed to know about writing romances from Sweet Dreams novels and the Buffy the Vampire Slayer TV series. When not working as a communications consultant, she writes contemporary romance, young adult, and new adult novels. When not working and writing, she’s hanging out with her husband and daughter. Visit her site http://minavesguerra.com.
Chic Manila series
My Imaginary Ex | Fairy Tale Fail | No Strings Attached | Love Your Frenemies | That Kind of Guy | Welcome to Envy Park | Wedding Night Stand | Young and Scambitious | Properly Scandalous (Scambitious #2) | Shiny and Shameless (Scambitious #3) | Greedy and Gullible (Scambitious #4)
Interim Goddess of Love trilogy
Interim Goddess of Love | Queen of the Clueless | Icon of the Indecisive
Spotlight series
Playing Autumn | The Harder We Fall | Never Just Friends
Anthology contributions
Say That Things Change (New Adult Quick Reads 1) | Kids These Days: Stories from Luna East Arts Academy Volume 1 | Sola Musica: Love Notes from a Festival
Twitter, Instagram, Facebook: minavesguerra
Wattpad: MinaVE
EXCERPT FROM THE HARDER WE FALLA Spotlight New Adult romance from Mina V. Esguerra
I wasn’t sure if it was time to call security, the police, th
e hospital, somebody.
Sure I’d led a relatively sheltered life, and going to college at Addison Hill would only seem like an extension of that comfort instead of a crash course in the real world. But I had seen a riot before. An actual brawl. Inebriated guys at each other’s throats and limbs, before my eyes, and it wasn’t pretty.
It kind of looked like what was happening on the field right now.
I stepped onto the soccer field expecting it to be just grass and dirt at this hour; I was told it usually was, on Monday afternoons anyway. I went this way so I could get establishing shots in case I needed them, before the light went. But the field wasn’t empty. I found that out as soon as I made it to the grass, and someone sprinted ahead, past me, not so near but near enough. He turned my way, and I smiled at him, his shock of dark hair, his straining biceps, his powerful legs. I also waved.
That wave part I didn’t mean to do, but it was like my arm was pulled up by unseen forces, the same ones that made my insides churn at the idea that I had his attention somehow. My brain took over and I pulled my hand back before anyone else could see it. The hesitation was enough time for one of the four or six or eight other guys behind him to grab his upper legs and knock him off his sure footing. The four or six or eight other guys made sure he was flat on the ground in no time later.
“Oh God,” I said.
A split second later and I heard the loud boom of guy laughter,a sign that they weren’t really killing each other. I shook my head and reached for my camera. They picked themselves up from the ground, tracking mud up to the round collars of their shirts, and started it all over again.
Never Just Friends (Spotlight New Adult Book 2) Page 10