Playing For Forever

by J. C. Grant

  Keeping my head high, my shoulders square, I stilled myself, forcing myself to push past it, ignore it and addressed the topic head-on.

  “So... Obviously, David told you about my little... freak out.”

  “He did. He wanted me to fully understand the situation. And he let me know that the only reason he was offering me this is because I'm the closest in Hollywood to his build.” Alec leaned in across the table toward me. His next words were barely above a whisper. “And because he knows I'm gay.”

  And just like that, all the tension left my body. Everything that David had done made absolutely perfect sense.

  Alec was gay.

  “And... I mentioned this to David—actually this was more kind of David's idea, but it actually works out perfectly for me.”

  I felt like he was dragging it out, trying to soften the blow, or butter me up for something I was going to absolutely hate. I watched him apprehensively as he continued.

  “We were thinking about trying to control the media gossip... by kind of, making it seem like, maybe... you and I are having an affair,” he added tentatively. “In like, a few months down the road. It would keep the gossip about you in check and focused on one thing—us—hopefully.”

  Alec needed to keep up appearances, either he wasn’t quite ready to come out, or the image his team had created made it nearly impossible. Either way, after how Zach and Dawn had controlled the media...

  “Actually, I love that idea—controlling the gossip and cheating rumors.”

  “With the rate David's going again, and with the show, there's going to be a lot of digging and speculating and bullshit. Figured it's better if we serve it to them, rather than let them dig.”

  I nodded. “I think it's perfect.”

  “Good.” His tone was soft, relieved. “I was worried I was going to offend you.” Then he added with a conspiratorial smirk, “Basically, it would be like you're my beard.”

  I couldn't stop the smile that broke out on my face. “Do people still use that term?”

  “Some people,” he responded with mock offense.

  I instantly felt at ease with him. There was something about him I really liked, and I couldn't help but wonder…

  “I have a question.” I smirked, part mischievous, part embarrassed, because I should’ve asked David.

  “Shoot.” He was completely unfazed by my cryptic request.

  “How do you know David?”

  “That's a long story.” He blew out a breath as scooted around the booth, sitting next to me. “Well.” He spoke softly, so no one else could hear. “Eight years ago, I think, we were at a party at a producers house in Hollywood, and David had just kind of become the new hot thing in town. And there was a woman at the party really aggressively hitting on me, groping me, trying to get me to go upstairs with her.”

  The more he talked, the more animated he became. I wasn't sure what it was about him, but I knew I wouldn't feel any panic with him touching me, kissing me. I couldn't explain it, but I knew two things: one, it wouldn't feel like I was cheating on David, and two, it would be as benign as kissing a girlfriend.

  “I kept trying to politely decline,” he continued, “but she was drunk. She just started in on a tangent, how she'd heard I was gay and how I needed to fuck her to prove that wasn’t true.”

  The way he talked reminded me of Tara. And I realized then, that’s why I liked him. He was a little bit David and a little bit Tara in one person.

  “Anyway, long story short, David cut in and told her off. After that, I got him alone and thanked him. He said it was obvious I was gay—to him—but if I wanted to try to hide it, that was my business. Then he told me, If you really wanna keep it a secret, get your shit together, have an arrangement or something. I was kind of shocked by his bluntness, but it was so refreshing.”

  That was totally David's style, straight to the point.

  “David rarely wastes words.” Me either, for that matter.

  “And that's got to be what I love about him most—no bullshit.”

  “Me too.” Well, it was one of the things anyway. But I didn’t think mentioning David’s cock was appropriate.

  We had a long lunch, getting to know each other. I even knew his favorite brand of jeans by the time we left.

  David knew exactly what he was doing. Alec was awesome. He was going to be perfect, not to mention his fan base was huge and women loved him. With him on board, the show would definitely going to be a success.

  It was surreal. I didn't even know how to wrap my head around it. I wrote a show. And it was going to be a success.

  Holy fucking shit.

  As soon as I was in my car on the way back to Silver Lake, I called David, intending to leave a voicemail.

  “Sweet girl,” he growled.

  Dear God, that voice, my insides warmed and my pussy pulsed its response, as if he was talking directly to it.

  Fuck, maybe he was.

  “You have your phone? I thought you had a game?” I asked breathlessly.

  He laughed smugly, obviously aware of his effect on me. “I do. I brought it to the dugout. How was lunch?”

  “Alec is perfect, babe, thank you,” I gushed.

  “Told you,” he murmured in a singsong voice. Then added soberly, “Make sure you call Jeff today, okay?”

  “I will. How long will you be?”

  “Couple hours... I gotta go. See you soon.”

  “Bye, babe.”

  “Love your ass,” he growled, before the call disconnected.

  Obviously, from David’s good mood, Fergus hadn’t told him about the snake being delivered.

  Maybe it was a mistake?

  I dialed Jeff.

  “Hello, Austin.” Jeff’s always upbeat voice filled the car.

  “I have news… Alec James is on board for the show.”

  “Are you serious?” he asked, doubtfully.

  “Hundred percent. Just finished having a four-hour lunch with him.”

  “That’s amazing. We might have a tight squeeze meeting his pay, but it will be worth it.”

  “I think so. Just wanted to let you know it worked out. You can stop the search,” I teased. But not really. I wanted the search to be over. I wanted the threat of having to touch someone else gone.

  His jubilant laugh filled my car. “Well, this is much better than I’d ever hoped for. Let me make some calls. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  When the call disconnected, I felt lighter than I had in weeks.

  Moments later, Fergus called, offering to pick up dinner, which I readily accepted, especially since there wasn't anything edible at my house, aside from some canned items, old coffee and water.

  As soon as I arrived home, I fed Chance, then let him outside while I quickly showered and dressed in oversized sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie.

  Since talking to David, I couldn’t help but naïvely hope Fergus had decided not to tell him what had really happened this morning.

  Just as I was heading for the kitchen, the doorbell rang. Without a second thought, I unlocked the door, swinging it open.

  Zach stood there before me, face pink with anger, blue eyes glassy and wide. He was furious. He didn't wait for an invitation as he forced his way inside, pushing me out of the way.

  “Hey, wait!” I stumbled into the wall.

  “How could you do this? Was this your plan all along? You made sure I didn't get that job, and now you're cheating on David with that fucking guy?” he yelled.

  Chance started barking outside, jumping on the glass back door, ratcheting up my panic.

  Remembering what happened last time I was alone with Zach, I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm.

  Fergus will be here any minute.

  Fergus was nowhere near as big as David, but I figured being ex-MI6 gave him a significant advantage.

  “What was I?” Zach stepped toward me, trying to pin me in. “A fucking steppingstone to your success?
” He moved closer, nearly looming over me. I could smell the peppermint on his breath. “You just used me to get ahead? I'm just a rung on the ladder for you?”

  Casually, I sidestepped him as I calmly tried to reason. “What are you talking about?”

  “You got what you wanted, and now you're going to make sure I don't get anything!” he screamed, then started pacing, running his fingers through his hair.

  Chance’s barks were getting more aggressive, louder, his big paws hitting the glass harder.

  Part of me hoped my nosy-ass neighbor would call the police, but the rational part of me knew she was too enamored with Zach Stone to do any such thing.

  “You need to leave.” My tone was firm, but gentle as I slowly moved, repositioning until he was between me and the open doorway.

  “You need to fucking talk to me!” He continued pacing back and forth, arms swinging animatedly, alternating between talking to me and talking to himself. “Why would you do this? I know you did this. You stopped them from giving me the job on your show. You vindictive bitch! I gave up my security for you and this is how you repay me?”

  He was out of control and ramping himself up, getting angrier by the minute. I couldn’t help but wonder if he knew about the charges filed against him yet.

  “Zach,” I started softly, talking to him like I would a scared child. “You can't be here. If David finds out you're here... what he did last time will look like a joke.”

  He stopped, staring at me in disbelief.

  “I don't give a shit about David, and neither do you. I saw you today. I saw you at the Polo Lounge with him, cuddled up, talking, telling secrets, giggling. He's the one you want on the show. He’s your next step on the ladder!” he yelled at me. “How could you stab me in the back like this, Austin?”

  Zach was stalking me.

  That knowledge sent a chill up my spine.

  With my building panic, I didn’t know how much longer I could keep this from turning physical. And I was terrified Chance was going to smash through the glass and hurt himself trying to save me.

  How do you reason with an insane person?

  A person I was pretty sure was coked out of his head.

  “I'm not doing anything to you, Zach. It's my show—” I thought better of my approach and redirected. “And I don’t want to work with an ex. Especially not you. It would hurt too much.”

  Then it occurred to me…

  “Zach,” I asked cautiously, “how did you know I was here?”

  “Terrified of snakes.” His voice was far too calm and his eyes were disturbingly cold.

  I swallowed thickly before I asked, “You left that snake?”

  “Yeah. I know you. I knew it would get you out of that house, over here, where I can actually get to you. Can't get anywhere near you when you're at his fucking house.”

  “How did you—”

  “The gate. Locks can be picked.”

  “Why would you do that to me?” I asked stupidly; he’d made it clear why.

  “I knew he wasn't there, and I know you'd never stay in the house if you found a snake there. And if you got bit...”

  “You're so much fucking sicker than I thought,” I muttered.

  “I'm sick? I'm sick?” he yelled, his voice getting louder. “You fucked me over, you bitch! You know how fucking perfect this all would've been! We would both get what we wanted. And we would be together!”

  “I don't want to be with you!” I screamed, unable to hold my tongue anymore. “I never did!”

  “Mr. Stone.” Fergus’ voice was calm but clear as he stepped up onto the porch. “I didn't think you were stupid enough to try this, even with David out of town.”

  Zach started to turn, but Fergus was on him, twisting his arm up behind his back, forcing Zach out the front door, Zach screaming at me the entire time.

  I let out a heavy breath as I watched Fergus shove Zach to the ground, planting a knee in the middle of his back, twisting his arm up higher. To my surprise, the police showed up minutes later, no flashing lights, no sirens. I let out a harsh breath, both from relief and the new weight added. Because while the police were not causing a scene, there was no way around filing more charges, and with David’s encounter with Dawn… We’d look like trouble. To the network, Jeff, everyone.

  Once the police left, Fergus let Chance in and slipped into sweatpants and a tee, while I heated up our dinner. The microwave wasn't nearly as good as David's warming drawer, but neither of us said anything.

  We sat in the living room, eating out of the containers, watching TV. Fergus sat on one end of the sofa, socked feet propped up on my coffee table, while I sat crossed legged on the other end, Chance curled up between us.

  When a commercial came on, I asked, “Does David know what happened?”

  “Of course. I called him while you were making the report. He'll be here soon.” He paused. “The snake Zach dropped off was extremely poisonous, and he broke the lock on the gate to get in.”

  And if you got bit…

  I swallowed thickly. “I just don't want this to reflect badly on David.”

  “David's fine. He's not even here. This is bad for Zach. This shows what he really is, which is out of his fucking mind. This one really crossed the line from publicity into stalker/attempted murder territory.”

  Attempted murder seemed like a big leap to me. When I didn't respond, he continued.

  “I know what David does is technically stalking, but he would never try to scare you or hurt you.”

  He didn't have to tell me that; it never even crossed my mind, not even in the beginning.

  “He does it because he loves you and he doesn't want any of these rich Hollywood guys getting in your ear, twisting your head up, playing on your insecurities, and convincing you to do what they want.”

  “I know that. He has nothing to worry about.”

  I had already seen that side of Hollywood—shortly after I arrived. Men promising me fame, lead roles, setting me up for life, you name it, I'd been offered it or promised it by someone who wanted something from me. My body.

  “David still worries.”

  “I know.”

  I did. That was why David’s behavior had never bothered me, I knew it wasn’t unfounded.

  We finished eating in silence; well, Fergus did. I picked at my food. The growing knot in my stomach protested every time I took a bite. Eventually, I gave up and curled up behind Chance. He was as stressed out as I was.

  I must've fallen asleep, because the next thing I remembered was the front door slamming shut.

  “Austin, get in the fucking bedroom,” David barked.

  Stunned by the anger in his voice, I slowly got to my feet, obeying.

  Once in my room, I stripped down and crawled into bed, unsure what was about to happen, but knowing naked was my best defense.

  David entered without a word, shutting the door behind him. “You made your fucking point.” His voice was low and dangerous. “Shit like this happens again, you tell me. Don’t go to Fergus and ask him not to tell me.”

  “David, I just didn’t want—” I tried.

  “You know the rule about deliveries at the house. No. Fucking. Deliveries!”

  “David—”

  “Austin, I know I’ve fucked up by trying to protect you from shit, but no more. Do you know how many of my fans have threatened you? Psychos who think you are the only thing standing between me being with them? That could have been a fucking bomb! And yeah, he picked the lock, but you were expecting something. He could have left it outside the gate, and you would have brought it in!”

  Fuck, I’d never considered all that. And I knew his fans didn’t like me... A bomb? Really?

  “David—” I tried again.

  “Don’t tell me you’re fucking sorry—don’t do it again. You wanna have some online shopping binge, fine. Have it sent to Aaron’s house. He’ll be more than happy to bring it over. It’s what I fucking pay him for!”

  “I�
��m—” His scathing look cut me off.

  “You did exactly what he wanted. He wanted to get to you, and he did. Did you even look before you opened the door?”

  My eyes closed in shame. I hadn’t. And I of all people knew better. And I understood where all his anger was coming from. He was scared, scared of losing me.

  “What if he had a knife, Austin? What if he had a gun? What if he raped you this time? What if it was worse?” His voice cracked, and he sat heavily on the bed. “I’m so fucking mad at you right now.”

  My eyes and nose stung. “I was stupid. I wasn’t even thinking about him.”

  “He’s not the only person who might want to hurt you,” he muttered, all his anger gone.

  I scooted behind him, hooking my arms around his shoulders. Pressing my lips to his neck, I whispered, “I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

  His breaths were deep, even, measured, as if he was trying to get his emotions under control. “I fucking pay people to take care of you, let them. Let me.”

  “I will. I’ll be more careful.”

  “If I lost you—” He paused. “You’re all I have. You’re the reason I breathe.”

  “I love you,” I murmured between placing kisses along his neck. Then I gripped his waist, tugging him back. “Come ‘ere.”

  David stood, pulling his shirt over his head, kicking his boots off. Then his jeans hit the floor.

  He was crawling over me, pressing heated kisses to my temple and up my hairline murmuring, “I fucking love you so much. It's fucking killing me not to be with you all the time.”

  His weight settle on top of me, my thighs hugging his waist. With a subtle shift of his hips, he was pushing inside my unprepared walls, forcing me to accept him. Something about it reminded me of the last time Zach had been here, when David needed reassurance, needed to know I accepted him and his darker side.

  He worked his way deeper; the sharp pain felt deserved for my thoughtlessness. I welcomed it.

  “Harder.”

  “Yeah?” His gaze held mine.

  I nodded.

  He thrust deep, forcing a cry from me.

  “Don’t stop.”

  “Oh, fuck, sweet girl,” he groaned.