First Priority

by Este Holland

  The sarcasm was thick enough to slice. “They don’t get along?”

  “Famously.”

  I stuck my feet on his lap, and he rested a hand on my ankle. I could see this. Us. Picture us doing this exact same thing five years down the road, ten years. My heart thudded, and I sat up fast.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I think I’d like to explore. Can we?”

  “It’s dark.”

  “So?”

  “And foggy.”

  “You know the way.”

  He stared at me for a beat. “Yeah, sure. Let me get the lantern.”

  I needed to expend this nervous energy. I couldn’t fall for Truman. No way, no how. He’d never said anything about forever. He wanted sex. I wasn’t stupid.

  But then why hadn’t he pressured me about it? He certainly wasn’t acting like the stuck-up actor I’d met at that hotel party anymore.

  Time would tell. And we had a lot of it together in the immediate future.

  Interlude

  Riley

  Truman was acting so different, and it was all thanks to Adam. Shock choked me when he called him sweetheart. And where he was planning on taking him was also a pleasant surprise. He never took anyone there, except—

  “Honey, I’m home!”

  I scowled in the general direction of the front door.

  Daniel Winters.

  He was even more arrogant than Truman, in my opinion. Some might disagree, but they weren’t around the two of them all the time. Not that Daniel was there all that often since he traveled so much, but still…

  “Didn’t you hear me calling?” Daniel asked in his faded Australian accent. It was as if he’d been away from home for so long, he’d forgotten what he was supposed to sound like. He stood in the kitchen doorway, looking like the sophisticated world traveler he was. His dark-blond hair was pulled back in a short ponytail at the nape of his neck, and a few strands had broken free to frame his face.

  I sighed internally. If there was one thing I didn’t fault him for, it was his face. He should be in front of the camera, not behind it. He had the arresting look of someone who had weathered the odds: tanned skin with a few freckles, a sculpted jaw, and intense blue-green eyes. He wore faded jeans over soft leather, buckle strap boots, and a gray T-shirt. Leather bracelets and silver rings adorned his wrists and hands.

  “It would be impossible not to. You’re sooo important.”

  Daniel gave a devastating grin that shook me to my oxfords, but I refused to let him see it. This stupid crush could go to hell. So, he was smart and sexy and worldly? This was Hollywood; there were tons of guys who fit that description.

  In fact, I had a date that night. “I’m leaving. I just had to collect a few work things. The place is yours.” I shuffled papers into my messenger bag and closed my laptop.

  Daniel came closer and stood in my way. We were almost the same height, and I looked directly into his eyes.

  “Why are you in such a hurry? I just got here.”

  “Exactly. The house is yours for a month. Enjoy.”

  He frowned. “You won’t be back?”

  “Not unless I’ve forgotten something.” I clenched my hand into a fist out of his eyesight. Dammit, why did I give myself that opening? Now I’ll be looking for an excuse.

  Daniel smirked. “Right, I’ll see you later, then.” His eyes flicked over my face, down to my lips, and back up to my eyes.

  I stepped around him and got a few feet away.

  “Riley.”

  I turned to see him leaning against the counter.

  “How’s Truman and…”

  “Adam.”

  “Yes, Adam.”

  “They’re fine. They’re at the cottage.”

  He nodded, having no doubt already heard from Truman. “And Adam?”

  I shrugged. “He’s okay. Better away from all this bullshit.”

  Daniel’s eyebrows flew up. “I thought you liked it here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This crap. The Hollywood lifestyle. The media attention.” Daniel came a few steps closer, and I slid my free hand into my suit pocket to stop from reaching for him. “Isn’t that why you wanted to be a PA for the stars?”

  I scoffed and gave him a cold once-over. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

  He waited a beat without blinking. “I suppose you’re right. We should change that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re a part of my best mate’s life. We should get along.”

  I looked away. It was stupid to be disappointed by his answer. “What do you want?”

  “Come here tonight for dinner.”

  “I can’t. I have a date.”

  “Oh? Where?” Daniel feigned casual interest.

  “Santorini’s.”

  “Then, tomorrow?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Daniel.”

  He smiled that shit-eating, charming grin. “Of course, it is. All my ideas are good ideas.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, right. What about the time you got arrested in Marrakesh and Truman had to fly over and bail you out?”

  “That wasn’t my idea. That was my contact’s fault.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Then the time you decided to get so drunk in London, Truman had to take you to the hospital and get your stomach pumped?”

  “Ah.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Point to you. But I’m better now. I don’t drink much anymore.”

  I stared at him for too long. “Good. But it’s got nothing to do with me.”

  “What if I said I’d like it to?”

  I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. He encompassed everything I needed to stay away from. I’d done the bad boys, the charming guys who wouldn’t let anyone in. And Daniel was the epitome of closed-off. I should know. I couldn’t risk my heart like that. Not again.

  Daniel stepped closer and I inhaled his spicy cologne. “What if I said I don’t want you going on that date?”

  “I’d say, after what happened last time, you’re out of your mind if you think you have any say in what I do.”

  Daniel’s face fell, and he stepped away. “If you change your mind, I’ll be here.”

  “I won’t.” I turned and left the house with a bang of the front door.

  Chapter 14

  You’re Just Too Good to Be True

  Truman

  I’d never walked around the island at night, but I’d been to the dock, so that was where we started. Adam stared out at the bay in the moonlight; then he took my hand and we walked along the shoreline. It wasn’t easy in certain spots, but we laughed and helped each other up when we stumbled.

  “Tell me about your best friend,” I said when we came to a stop at the north dock. There were some chairs there, so we sat.

  “Jeff. We’ve never actually met in person.”

  “Online friend?”

  “Yeah, we started playing World of Warcraft years ago and hit it off. He’s agoraphobic, and I’ve never gone up to Portland to see him. I’ve meant to…” he trailed off. “I’m a bad friend.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I should’ve gone to see him by now.”

  “What stopped you?”

  “I don’t know. My stupid anxiety. I keep thinking, what if we meet and it’s a disaster? I won’t have a best friend anymore.”

  “Has he ever said that?”

  “Said what?”

  “That you’re a bad friend.”

  Adam shook his head. “No.”

  “Does he know about your anxiety?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then he understands. He probably feels bad for not being able to come see you.”

  “He’s agoraphobic. He can’t leave his house.”

  “That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel bad about it.”

  Adam pondered that while I picked up the lantern and walked out on the dock. I was at peace here. No phones, no internet. Just me
, Adam, and the water. With all my boredom at the museum, that didn’t mean I didn’t like to read. I had a few new mysteries in my luggage, plus a script from my agent. I had to decide if I wanted to sign a three-movie deal for an action series about a rogue CIA agent.

  Adam came up and linked arms with me. I kissed his head, and he lifted his chin. I moved to his lips, and he opened for me. I swept my tongue inside, savoring the flavor and memorizing the texture of his tongue. He pushed against my mouth, wanting more. I gave it to him. I wrapped my arm around his back, lifting him up into me for a better angle.

  He moaned, and I grew hard. He felt it, pushing his hip into my groin, making me grunt and pull away.

  “Don’t tempt me, Adam.”

  “Why not?”

  The light was too dim to see his expression. “Do you want to fuck?”

  “Not here.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “But in the house…”

  I froze and had to stop myself from squeezing my cock. Fuck, he was going to be the death of me. “Really?”

  “I know you want me. Those loose jeans you had on earlier didn’t hide much.”

  I pretended outrage, but he laughed and started walking.

  Was he serious?

  I’d have to make sure before we did anything he’d regret.

  The hike back was rushed, so we were sweaty under our clothes. I pushed him gently toward the bathroom and heard the shower come on. Maybe he’d change his mind after thinking about it. Not that I wanted him to, but I hadn’t brought him here for sex. Honestly. I wanted to give him time to cool off and think.

  I took off my sweater, shirt, shoes, and socks. The head of the king-sized bed was against the only wall in the bedroom. The rest was glass overlooking the bay. I’d tested the view from every conceivable vantage point personally. I’d even tried a telephoto lens. No one could see inside my bedroom.

  Adam came out dried and dressed in his sweats. His chest was hairless and pale with some dark moles scattered around. I wanted to kiss each one. Instead, I smiled and passed him to enter the bathroom.

  Adam

  Fuck, what was I thinking? I was never that bold. My stomach jittered, and my palms dampened. I wiped them on my pants that I’d put back on, like a dork. Truman was shirtless when I came out, and I stared at his olive-skinned chest with the dark smatter of what had to be groomed hair. He had a moderate six-pack and a treasure trail from his bellybutton. His jeans hung low on his hip bones, and more of those delicious popped veins ran over his lower stomach.

  He passed me with a smile and closed the door.

  “I can do this,” I whispered to myself.

  No, you can’t! my brain screamed at me.

  Shut up, shut up, shut up!

  “Adam?”

  I startled and almost yelped. I swallowed hard as Truman’s arms encircled my waist. His chin came to rest on my shoulder, and I inhaled his shower gel and savored the feel of his warm, damp skin against mine.

  “That was fast.”

  “It’s been at least ten minutes.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything.”

  “I want to.”

  His chest expanded, and he puffed out a laugh, breath hitting me in the neck, making me shiver.

  “That why you look like you want to throw up?”

  Truman maneuvered me over to the bed, and we fell to our sides. All he had on was a pair of black silk boxers. He tucked me close and stared into my eyes.

  “Relax. I’m not going to jump you.”

  “But I initiated it.”

  “So?”

  “But…”

  “Adam, if you’re not on board, I’m not either. Get under the covers, and let’s get some sleep.”

  I shucked my pants in a hurry and did what he said and tried to settle in. Now I was nervous about sleeping in the same bed as someone else.

  Fuck’s sake. You can shut up anytime now, brain.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  Truman paused in fluffing his pillow and turned to me. The lamp was on, and a contemplative gleam shone in his eyes.

  “What makes you think I’m upset?”

  “I-I don’t know. I mean, usually guys would be.”

  Truman reclined beside me, and I saw a muscle in his jaw tick. I reached out a tentative hand under the covers and placed it on his ribs. His skin was so warm and inviting.

  “Have guys been pissed off in the past?”

  Our eyes met, and I nodded.

  “Have you pushed yourself to have sex when you really didn’t want to because they wanted it?”

  I swallowed hard and nodded again.

  “Oh, Adam.” Truman pulled me to him, and I tucked my head under his chin. “You don’t have to ever do anything until you’re ready.”

  “I know that now. I didn’t always when I was younger. But I want to have sex. I like it, but it’s difficult. I haven’t been with that many guys. Sometimes it was easier to just do it than to ask them to wait until I was comfortable.” I shrugged. “Maybe that doesn’t make sense.”

  Truman squeezed me. “I can understand your thought process, but I don’t like it. It’s the worst kind of peer pressure. It’s basically—never mind. Now, tell me their names and addresses, because I know some guys who can take care of them for you.”

  I stilled, then burst out laughing until I had to wipe my eyes on the sheet. “Thank you.”

  Truman smiled and kissed my forehead. “You don’t have to thank me. It’d be my pleasure.”

  I was pretty sure he was kidding.

  Truman

  Motherfuckers. I seethed in silence while Adam fell asleep with one arm over my chest. If I ever found those men, as God as my witness, they’d wish they’d never been born. I take that back; they’d wish they’d been born without dicks, because I’d rip them off.

  Date rape. That was essentially what Adam had described.

  I hadn’t said the words because I didn’t want to start a chain reaction ending with Adam curled into the fetal position and me on the phone with his therapist trying to help him. If his therapist knew, she would’ve had to come to the same conclusion. Wouldn’t she?

  Maybe I was wrong. I didn’t know for sure—but his words had unleashed a rage inside of me. Even if he’d given consent, he hadn’t been comfortable. He’d said that.

  I forced myself to relax and closed my eyes. I held Adam tight. Funny, I wasn’t used to sleeping with anyone in my bed, but he fit right alongside me, like our skin had once been separated and it was finally reunited. I fell asleep with that thought on my mind.

  The next morning, I woke alone. I wasn’t worried, though, since Adam didn’t know how to drive the boat. I was on my stomach and stretched my leg out to feel his side. Cold. I frowned and rolled over to stand.

  After bathroom duties, I wandered to the kitchen. The French press was half full of coffee, still mostly warm, so I poured some in a bottom-heavy ceramic cup made in the village and went in search of Adam. I wandered outside. The day was overcast but still beautiful. Clare Island and Croagh Patrick were visible in the distance. The hill stood tall and proud, watching over the villages below like an ancient sentinel.

  Adam sat cross-legged on the grass with his eyes closed. An empty coffee cup sat beside him. He was meditating.

  I stepped away, so I didn’t interrupt, and went inside to start breakfast. This was the only place I cooked. The kitchen in Malibu was too complicated. There were too many buttons to push. This was easy. Turn the knob and the gas lit. Cook, then turn it off. Done.

  Adam came in, smiled serenely, and kissed my cheek. I liked seeing him happy, especially after our conversation last night.

  “Good morning.”

  “Morning. Are you hungry?”

  “Mm.”

  I plated the eggs and ham, and Adam grabbed the toast and jam.

  He eyed me as we ate.

  “What?”

&nbs
p; “It’s hard to reconcile the you here with the you who drives a million-dollar car.”

  I shrugged. “This is a million-dollar island.”

  “You know what I mean.” He fiddled with his cup. “I like it. The you here.”

  My brows twitched. “But not the me there?”

  “Most of you. But the other pieces of you…it was like you were playing a part.”

  I stared at Adam. “You’re the first that ever called me out on that, you know. My ‘actor voice’ as you called it.”

  “Yes. It was false.”

  I looked away from his penetrating gaze. “I’ve always had different 'me’s' I show to different people. It’s why I’m a good actor.” I huffed an unamused laugh.

  Adam stayed quiet.

  I forced my eyes to meet his. “I’ve been the real me with you since the beach. I swear.”

  He came around the table and sat on my right knee with his legs between mine. He took my mouth in a sweet kiss that went on forever until we couldn’t breathe.

  “I believe you,” he said against my cheek once we came up for air. “I’ve been comfortable with you since then. But also…”

  “Also what?”

  “I don’t know the right word. Wanting, I guess. I want you.”

  “Adam, I told you last night—”

  “I know,” he said in an almost panic. “I know you did. But I’m telling you now, I want you, I just have to get over the hurdle. I can do it.”

  “Tell me about the hurdle. Maybe if we talk about it, its power will go away.”

  “Can we go sit on the couch?”

  “Of course.”

  He stood to let me stand, and we left the breakfast dishes where they were for now. He sat with one leg under him, and I gave him some space.

  “Deborah says my brain tricks me into thinking I’m not good enough. When I’m with a guy, I start to overanalyze and come up with a million ‘what-if’ scenarios, and pretty soon that’s all I can see. And then the fun and excitement are gone, and all that’s left is this worry that I’ll never be happy. It’s like my bones hollow out and get filled up with a cold liquid and I can’t breathe.”