Troublemaker

by Kayley Loring

  ALEX: You’re always sexy to me, Emilia. You have no idea how hot you are. You don’t have to be embarrassed.

  EMILIA: I’m horrified.

  ALEX: Baby, I want to see you. I’m going to FaceTime you. We need to do this right.

  EMILIA: What? Now?!

  ALEX: Facetiming you now.

  30

  Emilia

  Oh God oh God oh God oh God.

  I make a mad dash to the adjoining bathroom to check myself in the mirror. I can barely focus my eyes, but I can see that I look insane. My glasses are on crooked. I didn’t wash my hair today, and I’m wearing a wrinkled blouse over an old camisole. I didn’t bring any of my cute things because I’ve been wearing them for Alex and they’re in my laundry basket back in LA. I could just not answer the call. Tell him the Wi-Fi isn’t working. No cell phone reception all of a sudden.

  But I want to see him. I want to hear his voice. I want him I want him I want him.

  I can do this.

  I hear the FaceTime ringtone and run back to my bed, kicking my Christmas sweater under the bed so he doesn’t see it and instantly lose his boner.

  I tilt my laptop screen back, comb my fingers through my hair, and make my lips all pouty. And then I accept the video call, catching my breath as soon as I see Alex’s face on my screen. He’s so handsome. He looks so concerned.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Hi.”

  “Hi. You look sad.”

  “Oh. I was making a pouty face. Trying to look all sexy-like.”

  He’s grinning. “Emilia. You don’t have to try. Look at yourself. Look at yourself on the screen. Do you see what I see?”

  “I’d rather look at you.”

  “Why are you so nervous tonight?”

  I shake my head. “It’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Tell me. Get it off your chest.”

  “My ex came by the house tonight. Uninvited. By me, anyway. I told him to leave after a couple of minutes.”

  His jaw has tightened, and I think he’s feeling possessive, and I know I like it.

  “It wasn’t a big deal, really. It’s just…being home. You know. I felt like I’d changed so much when I moved to LA, but as soon as I got to my parents’ house, I just felt like the old me again.”

  “Was old you really so bad?”

  I shrug. “No. I just didn’t feel as good as I usually do now. To be honest, seeing Brent just made me realize how much I like you.”

  And there it is. Saying it somehow makes me feel less nervous.

  He puts his beautiful hand over his beautiful heart, but not in a cheesy or ironic way. In an Alex Vega way. “I like you so much too.” His face gets up closer to the camera and he whispers, “Are your parents anywhere nearby?”

  “No. I’m upstairs. They moved their stuff downstairs because my dad has a bad knee… Hang on, let me see if I can think of an even less sexy sentence to say to you.” I shake my head, rolling my eyes.

  “Take that top off,” he says, not even acknowledging what I just said. “Not the camisole, just the shirt.”

  “Do you want me to take off my glasses?”

  “Only if you don’t want to see me take off my shirt.”

  I leave my glasses on as I unbutton my blouse. “And when will I have the pleasure of seeing you take off your shirt?”

  “You first, Miss Stiles.”

  I shrug and reveal one bare shoulder and then tug on the sleeves and hold the blouse up in front of the camera, tossing it aside. I’m just in an old white cotton camisole and panties now, but if Alex is disappointed, his bedroom eyes aren’t showing it.

  He reaches up to grab the back of his dark T-shirt and pulls it over his head. Why is it so hot when guys remove their shirts that way? He looks down at the camera, lips parted, eyes hooded. That square chin. He drags his hand across his chest. His nostrils flare. My entire body is aching to touch him and kiss him all over.

  I caress my breast with one hand and run my fingers through my hair with the other. “God, I wish you were here with me.”

  I can’t see his hands anymore, but I know exactly where they are.

  I touch my fingers to my lips and drag them down my neck. I know how much he loves to kiss my neck. I sweep my hand across my collarbone. I know how much he loves to touch my skin.

  He groans quietly. “Baby.”

  And without him asking, I pull my camisole off, covering my breasts with both hands and squeezing. My nipples are pointing directly at him, as always. I let him have a peek at one of them before covering it up again.

  The guttural sound he makes is excruciatingly sexy. He’s stroking himself slowly. Like a man. Like a man who has all night for this. “Little tease.”

  “Yep. That’s me.”

  “I want to see you drag your fingers down the center of you. Slowly. Don’t put your hand inside your panties. You’re gonna trace light circles around the inside of your thigh. That’s good, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now touch yourself between your legs. Through the fabric.”

  “The fabric is completely soaked through. I wasn’t lying about that.”

  “Good.”

  “It’s not good, Alex. It hurts. I want you inside me.”

  “You’re gonna touch yourself for me. Make a V with your fingers and slide them down and up along the sides of your clit.”

  That’s a great idea, so I do it.

  “You’re so wet, aren’t you?”

  “So slippery.”

  “Feel better?”

  “A little.”

  I’m on my knees, and I start rocking back and forth. My other hand is cradling my breast.

  “Move your fingers faster. Harder.”

  I do just that, but I can’t help saying, “I thought you said it’s not your job to tell people what to do.”

  “It’s my job to make you come, Emilia. And it’s your job to do as I say right now.”

  “Roger that.”

  Easiest job in the world, even when I’m at my parents’ house.

  “Did I tell you to use your whole hand?”

  I look down at the screen. He can’t even see my hand down there. “How could you tell?”

  “I can tell.”

  “I need to use my whole hand. I need the pressure.”

  “And I think your clit needs to be teased a little more. Smooth the palm of your hand over your nipple. Very lightly. You like how that feels?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I like watching you do that. God, I want to kiss you there. I want you to think about the tip of my tongue gliding over your nipple. Can you feel that?”

  It feels so good. My body jerks and I moan. “Alex…”

  I can hear him trying to control his breathing. He wants to come, and I want to come, and this is absolute torture.

  “You can rub your clit with your hand now. Slow circles. Lots of pressure.”

  I shudder. I want to open my eyes and watch him, but I can’t. All I can do is make slow circles with my hand. Lots of pressure. I whisper his name again, trembling. My body begins to undulate.

  “That’s my girl,” he says. His voice is so deep. I can hear him fisting himself now, harder and faster. “Now slide your fingers inside. Two of them. In and out. Use your other hand to massage your clit.”

  I’m breathing so hard and fast. Everything is rising and falling and swaying to the sound of his voice and the picture of him in my mind.

  “Stick your fingers all the way in and then curl them toward me.”

  “Huh?”

  I do what he says and clench up around my fingers and Oh. God. Oh God oh God oh God.

  A slow-motion explosion of tingles and warmth and deep, electrifying pleasure.

  I’m vaguely aware of Alex making that sound, that gorgeous sound, but oh so quietly.

  Is he really not here?

  I feel so close to him, surrounded by him. I just wish I could feel the weight of his body on mine. T
he slick warmth of his skin, the hairs on his chest. His tensed-up legs against mine, toes curling. Exhaling into my ear.

  How can I still miss him so much when we just came together online?

  I slowly remove my wet, wet hands from my panties and open my eyes, returning to the room.

  Alex’s eyes are still closed, his head tilted forward.

  I want to kiss those eyelids.

  I want to kiss that mouth.

  He raises his head and looks at the camera, one corner of his mouth curling upwards.

  I look up at myself, in the little square above him. My blonde hair is tousled, my eyes barely open. I have a dumb, lazy smile on my face. And I look beautiful.

  I see what he means. For this moment, anyway, I can see how he sees me. And I like it.

  He’s wiping himself up. “I brought a towel,” he says.

  “You came prepared.”

  He laughs at me. “You came pretty hard.”

  “I did. I think I’m still coming a little bit.”

  “Overachiever. When are you back in LA?”

  “Day after tomorrow. I’ll leave after breakfast.”

  “Come over to my house. I’ll bring Ryder here to my parents’ house.”

  “I have to take Atticus to the library in the afternoon. Maybe after that?”

  He drops his head back and groans. “Your passion for teaching kids to read is very inconvenient.”

  “It’s not me, it’s my dog. Trust me, I’d definitely prioritize having sex with you over encouraging literacy any day.”

  “That’s comforting.”

  “Alex…”

  “Yes?”

  “The next time I see you, I want you to come inside me.”

  “Yes.”

  “I mean without a condom. We can do that, right? I mean, I can.”

  “Yes, ma’am. We can do that.”

  “Because I don’t want anything between me and your hot, pulsing cock.”

  His eyes widen, and I realize what I just said.

  I cover my mouth. “Oh God.”

  “Oh, baby. Did Franklin tell you to say that?”

  “No. That was all me. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, baby. I can’t wait to see you again.”

  We’re silent for many seconds, just smiling at each other. I want to fill the silence with I love you, and it seems like he does too. But it’s there. The feeling’s there, even if the words aren’t yet.

  “Good night, Emilia.”

  “Good night, Alex. I’ll see you in my dreams.”

  31

  Alex

  Forty-five minutes and two hundred are we there yets after leaving my house, Ryder and I pull into Shane’s driveway in the Pacific Palisades.

  Willa had the baby a couple of weeks ago, and Shane’s texts have been brief hilarious shit shows of typos and random emojis. He’s battling insomnia again. I got an email from Grammie, of all people, inviting us over to meet baby Oliver and check in on Shane and Willa. Nico’s car is in the driveway too.

  “Is that Tate’s car?!”

  “Yup. Nico and Kat are here too.”

  “Yessss! Can I stay and hang out with Tate and Lucky even if you leave?”

  “Maybe.”

  Truth is, I was planning on letting him stay here for the afternoon so my pulsing hot cock and I can spend some time with Emilia when she’s done at the library.

  But first—good friends and babies and Grammie Todd.

  “Help me carry this bag with the pies in it, okay?”

  I give Ryder the shopping bag with my mom’s homemade pies in it and then grab the container of barbecue chicken I grilled this morning. The Millers have a nanny, of course, but it’s her day off, and my mom insisted that people always bring food when they visit new parents. Almost a full minute after buzzing at the front gate, we hear Grammie’s voice on the intercom.

  “Hello, Vega men. You may enter.”

  The gate clicks open, and Ryder looks up at me, frowning. “You didn’t tell me she’d be here,” he whispers.

  I give him a wink, and so does Grammie when we walk up to the front door.

  “Nice to see you again, Mr. Ryder. What did you bring me?” She holds her hands out to take the bag from him.

  “Pies. From my grandma.”

  “Pumpkin and apple, homemade,” I tell her, leaning in to give her an awkward kiss on the cheek as we enter the house and remove our shoes.

  “I thought I told you to stop hitting on me, Tongue.”

  “Old habits die hard, ma’am.”

  And that’s when Grammie Todd gives me a little spank on the ass, and now I’m scared again. Even though this whole house smells like lavender, which is supposed to relax me.

  “Kids are in the family room,” she tells Ryder. “Baby and grown-ups are in the kitchen,” she says to me. “Bring that meat and follow me.”

  “Hey, I thought we weren’t going to hit on each other.” Ryder runs ahead of us. “No running in the house!”

  “You look a little happier than you did when I last saw you at the happiest place on earth, Tongue.”

  “I am. I really am.”

  “I’m glad. I really am.”

  Entering into the kitchen, I’m greeted with a vast picture window view of the ocean, Nico, Kat, Willa, and Shane—who’s holding the baby and looks like the Big Lebowski, if the Big Lebowski was in really great shape, wore an expensive robe, and had a better haircut.

  “Vega, baby!” Nico says, relatively quietly, while stuffing a bagel in his mouth.

  “Hey everybody,” I whisper, placing the food on the counter and going over to look at the baby in my friend’s arms.

  “You don’t have to whisper,” Shane says. “He’s awake. He’s always awake. And so am I.”

  I give Willa a kiss as I go over to wash my hands in the sink. “Can I hold him?” I find myself asking. The little peanut is so cute. I haven’t held a baby since I held my own, I don’t think.

  “Fuck yeah, you can take him,” Shane says, smiling. “Work your magic on the little turd.”

  “Is that Tom Ford Oud Wood?” Willa asks, inhaling my neck.

  “It is.” I take the little nugget from Shane. I can’t believe how little this guy is.

  “Mmm, that’s my favorite men’s woody scent,” she says.

  Nico almost spits out his bagel. “You said men’s woody.”

  She ignores her brother and continues sniffing me. “The amber note is strong on you. You going out later?” She grins. “This can’t possibly be your everyday cologne.”

  “I have vague plans with a specific someone,” I say, staring down at the baby. He’s wide-eyed and gurgling. I didn’t realize it until now, but I want another one of these. It hits me hard.

  After giving Willa and Kat a few details about my lady friend, minus the very important detail about her being my son’s teacher, I mention that Ryder doesn’t know about it yet.

  “You haven’t introduced her to him yet?” Kat asks.

  “Um. Actually, he has met her. He just doesn’t know we’re seeing each other yet.”

  “Intriguing,” Willa says, eyeing me. “What does she smell like?”

  “Cake and sex and books and sharpened pencils.”

  She lowers her voice and smacks my arm with the back of her hand. “Is she a teacher? Is she Ryder’s teacher?!”

  I give Shane a look.

  “I didn’t tell her anything.” He shrugs. “She’s a scent detective.”

  “That’s kind of hot.” Willa gives me a nudge. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  “Me too,” Kat says. “But tell me everything.”

  I don’t. But I do talk shop with her for a while. She’s a photographer who also directs documentaries and music videos, and we have a similar aesthetic. When Tate calls her and Nico into the family room so they can watch his magic trick, Shane takes the baby from me and I grab a bite to eat.

  There’s a slight chill in the air, and I realize G
rammie is standing right behind me, watching me watch Shane and Willa with the baby.

  “It’s nice, isn’t it?” she says without looking at me. “Seeing him with his second wife. And a new baby.”

  “I remember when he was just a shell of a man.” My voice cracks a little.

  “Everyone deserves a second chance.”

  “What about you?” I fix her with a friendly stare.

  She continues to watch Shane and Willa, but she gives me a little shove. “Some of us got it right the first time.”

  “You don’t need a second chance?”

  “I’m good, kid. You get your own life in order, why don’t you?”

  “Workin’ on it.”

  I pull my phone out and find a text from Emilia, telling me that she’s home and about to get ready to go to the library with her dog for a couple of hours.

  Half an hour later, I’m saying goodbye to everyone and dragging my reluctant son out the door. Because I want to get our lives in order. As soon as possible.

  Shane lets Willa take the baby and walks us to the driveway. We talk about the script I sent him—the love story. Our old Wizard producer Barry is now attached to produce it, along with a more prestigious film producer. But Barry is hungry and motivated, and he’s going to get independent funding for this project if Shane is attached to star in it.

  “I love the script,” Shane says. “But I’m going to take the next half a year off to do baby duty. So Willa can work on her stuff. If that’s okay with you, timewise, I’ll call my agent and tell him to make it work with my schedule.”

  “Absolutely. You know I’ve been dying to work with you on something. We’ll keep developing the script until then.”

  “Great. I’m in. I’m glad you finally found a good love story,” he says, in that annoying knowing way that he has. Fucking intuitive actors.

  I pull him into a hug. “You let me know if you need anything, okay? Anything at all.”

  “I’d love to sleep eight hours a night for the rest of my life—that’d be great, thanks.”