All We Were

by Grace, Elisabeth

  My forehead creases and I close my eyes so I don’t have to see him watch me. I move over him at a steady pace as the tension in my body coils tighter and tighter. I’m already on edge when Jimmy’s hand travels from my breast to between my legs. His thumb rubs my clit, and I’m unable to stop the tidal wave that crashes into me.

  “Oh God, Jimmy.” I gasp as I contract around him and struggle to breathe. I jerk against him a few times, my fingernails digging into his chest, and I ride out my orgasm until I’m wrung out with nothing left to give, collapsing on top of him.

  He doesn’t let me stay that way long before he lifts me off of him and positions me so that I’m on my knees. Threading a hand through my hair, he says, “You have no idea what it does to me when you scream my name when you come.”

  He thrusts into me from behind. There’s nothing sweet or tender about this, and the tension builds again.

  “You’re going to come again and milk my cock when I finish inside you.”

  I shake my head, my sweat-soaked hair sticking to my face. “No, I can’t,” I pant even though my body is already preparing the anticipation of another orgasm.

  He drags himself in and out of me, hitting just the right spot that makes my body buzz and tingle, giving me the sensation of floating away. “Yes, you can, and I want my name on your lips when you do.”

  His chest is pressed to my back now, and he curls himself over me to reach around. Sweat slicks us as he covers my body, his hot breath on my ear. His fingers coast down my side before landing on my clit again. Sometimes I forget he knows my body and what I need.

  Seconds later, I combust, and his name leaves my mouth on a hoarse cry that sounds like something between adulation and a curse.

  He stills before he thrusts a couple of uncoordinated pumps, emptying himself inside me.

  I drop down to the mattress, sweating and panting, trying to catch my breath. Jimmy rolls off to the side and onto his back, his arms raised over his head, his chest rising and falling as he draws in air. I admire him for a moment—the extraordinary man who gives me so much of himself and looks at me as though I’m the love of his life. My body is physically sated, but my mind is full of turmoil. Guilt fills me, and I roll over to face away from Jimmy. The bed shifts, and his finger glides up and down my spine as my thoughts drift to our first time together.

  “Please, Jimmy?”

  “I already told you to forget it.”

  We were in my bedroom. I was fifteen and young, but my dad had already made sure I knew all about sex.

  The reason I was asking my best friend was because I wanted to know what it felt like to actually welcome someone of my own choosing into my body.

  “Why not?” I crossed my arms, and his eyes dipped to my chest.

  “Because you’re just a kid.” He lifted himself off the mattress to leave, but I pushed him back down and stood my ground.

  “You’re only two years older than me,” I argued.

  Jimmy wasn’t a virgin. He didn’t talk with me much about that stuff, but when I started at the high school this year, I could tell that a few girls looked at him as though they knew him.

  “Don’t you want to?” I asked, and even I could hear the hurt in my voice.

  His face fell, and he took my hand and pulled me down to sit in front of him on the mattress. “Believe me, that’s not the problem.” He let my hand go and pushed his own through his dark hair while he blew out a breath.

  We’d made out and done some heavy petting, but always with our clothes on.

  “Then why won’t you?” Much to my humiliation, I felt tears gathering in my eyes. I prided myself on being tough and able to handle anything. My vulnerability made me feel weak, and I hated myself for it.

  “I don’t know how to explain it… I would feel like I was taking advantage of you. You’re only fifteen.” His dark eyes begged me to understand.

  I shook my head. He didn’t understand. I pulled up the tattered ends of my tank top, leaving me wearing only my bra as I sat in front of him.

  His jaw slackened, and he swallowed audibly. Both his nose and his eyes flared as his eyes soaked me in.

  That was the first time I realized that I could use my sexuality against people to get what I wanted. It was a lesson I never forgot.

  It was summer, and the long days were thick with humidity. Crickets chirped in the background, mixed with Jimmy’s labored breathing.

  I leaned into him, threading one hand through his hair and pressing my chest to his bare one. “Please, Jimmy. I want to know what it feels like to be with you.”

  Jimmy’s face softened because he understood what I meant was, “not him.” Slowly, he wrapped his arm around me. “Are you sure? Really sure?” His finger tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.

  I nodded, excitement threading through my belly.

  “Once we do this, things will be different with us.”

  The way he said it made it sound like a promise, and at the time, all I wanted was for things in my life to be different, so I nodded again and bit my bottom lip.

  He groaned deep in his throat.

  “Please do this for me,” I whispered. “Please let me know what it feels like to be with someone I want to be with.”

  “I’d do anything for you. You know that.” He leaned in and kissed me. It was hard and fast and fierce, and I never wanted it to end.

  From that day on, we were even more inseparable than we had been. Lost in a bubble of lust and love. For the first time, I thought of my future, a future only with Jimmy.

  “What are you thinking about?” Jimmy’s voice draws me from my memories. He places a chaste kiss on my bare shoulder.

  “Just remembering,” I murmur, leaving my back to him.

  “Good or bad?” His fingertips strum along my spine.

  “Hard to say.”

  He doesn’t respond for a long time, leaving us in silence. My self-hatred grows thicker as his yearning for more information grows impatient.

  “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.” He nudges my shoulder, urging me to roll over onto my back.

  “Don’t start with that again,” I say.

  “It’s true.”

  My head shakes before he finishes saying the words. “Stop.”

  “You know how I feel about you.”

  I sit up and turn away from him, my legs dangling over the side of the bed.

  “Why won’t you give us a chance? A real chance?” There’s irritation in his tone. Jimmy’s not going to let me leave until we tread down this familiar path.

  “We’ve talked about this.” I stand up and head toward the bathroom.

  He catches my hand as I pass him. “You care about me. I know you do.”

  “I love you, you know that. But I wouldn’t make a good girlfriend, and you know that too.”

  I can’t tell him what I know as truth. I’d ruin any love between us. Jimmy is the most important person in my life. I risk a lot of things with my body and life, but Jimmy isn’t one of them. I’d rather live with a taste of him every now and then than not have him in my life at all.

  “You have some issues you need to work on—”

  “Like the bathroom right now,” I say.

  He sighs and drops my hand. I race to the bathroom and shut the door, squeezing my eyes closed and wishing I could be someone else. Someone good enough for him. Someone he’d be proud to have on his arm. Someone who wouldn’t ruin his future and shatter his dreams.

  After convincing myself not to cave to the temptation of classifying what Jimmy and I are to one another, I finish up and open the door. Jimmy’s sitting up in bed, the sheets open for me to slide back in so we can pick up the conversation where we left off. Before I get the chance to join him, a voice rings out down the hall.

  “James, where you at?”

  I’ve never been happier to hear Tripp’s voice in my life. He’s a welcome distraction.

  “Give me a minute!” Jimmy yells. He sighs as he drag
s himself out of bed and pulls on his boxers.

  He stops before leaving the room, pausing at the door. His gentle smile and tilt of his head say the topic isn’t closed. Silently asking me to think about it. Jimmy has never accepted the word no. If he did, we wouldn’t be standing in his Malibu beach house right now.

  Chapter Seven

  Jimmy

  “Hey, man, what are you up to?” Tripp looks back from rifling through my fridge, already making himself at home. Normally my house is his house, but today, I’m irritated by his impromptu visit.

  “Nothing. What are you doing here?”

  He closes the fridge and pops the top off a beer before tossing the lid on the counter. “Can’t a guy stop in to see his best friend?”

  I raise my brows.

  “Okay, okay. I wanted to see how you made out last night after we went our separate ways.” His words are a reminder of the favor he did me.

  “Thanks again for helping me out.”

  He shrugs, sipping his beer. “What are friends for? You missed out though, let me tell you.”

  I chuckle and walk over to the cabinet that holds my glassware. “Oh, yeah?”

  “I took them both home, and let’s just say they work well as a team.” He waggles his eyebrows.

  I laugh. “Maybe I was the one doing you a favor then?”

  Tripp’s attention darts behind me, then his eyes narrow at me. Lilah must have made her entrance.

  “Didn’t realize you had company,” he says dryly, setting his beer on the counter.

  “Nice to see you too.”

  I circle around to Lilah. She’s fully clothed with her bag in her hand. She’s taking advantage of Tripp’s interruption to make her getaway, as I knew she would. Anything to avoid a real discussion.

  “I’ve gotta go,” she says, directing her words to me.

  “By all means, don’t let me chase you out,” Tripp says with a sneer.

  She glances at him. “Like I give two shits about anything having to do with you.” Lilah looks back at me. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  I step forward with my hand outstretched, wanting to lead her to the door—to be able to touch her again.

  But she busies her hands with her bag. “Stay out of trouble.” She turns and practically bolts out of the room.

  A few seconds later, I hear the front door open and close.

  “Nothing’s changed there, I see,” Tripp says before taking another swig of his beer.

  Shaking my head, I walk over to the fridge and grab myself a beer. “I wish you two could get along.” I twist off the cap and toss it on the counter near Tripp’s.

  Tripp narrows his eyes at me. “Are you serious? Out of the two of us, I’m not the one who needs to get my shit together. The only reason I have a problem with her is because she drags you down.”

  Needing fresh air, I make my way over to the sliding doors that lead out back.

  When Tripp stands beside me at the edge of my patio, overlooking the water, I say, “You have no idea what her childhood was like.”

  “Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for her to pull you down with her.”

  There’s no easy way to make him understand. Not without betraying Lilah’s confidence. And not without exposing myself.

  I swallow a swig of my beer. “She’s a part of my life, so either you accept her or not.”

  “Whatever, man.” Tripp shakes his head, and we’re both silent for a minute. “So, you all set for filming to start in a couple of weeks?”

  “Should be. We have a table read this week, and I have my final fitting for the costume.” I lean my back to the glass rail, staring at my house. Even now, I can’t believe it’s mine.

  “You don’t sound like a guy on the verge of having his career blow up.”

  He’s right, of course. My lingering worry about Lilah dulls even the shiniest moments in my life these days.

  The one thing nice about hanging out with Tripp is, I can be excited about this film and the fact I landed this role. It’s not that Lilah isn’t happy for me, she is, but lately when we’re together, all we do is talk about her latest antic.

  “I’ve just got a lot going on, that’s all.” I tip back my beer.

  “You mean Lilah has a lot going on.”

  “Christ, is it impossible for you to let her go?”

  Tripp is a good friend, but Lilah is a permanent fixture in my life. If he can’t accept that, he’ll be the one to go.

  He raises his hands in a placating gesture. “I’ll keep my mouth shut then.”

  “Good.”

  * * *

  A week later, I pull up to the gate that protects my new director’s mansion from the real world and press the button. This isn’t my first time in Calabasas—I’ve been to a few parties out this way over the past few years—but this is the first time I’ve been to Scott Franco’s house.

  From what my agent tells me, he likes to have the cast and some of the crew over before shooting begins to help establish comradery before filming. He has a reputation for being a fair director who doesn’t deal well with drama on his sets. As horrible as it is, I’m not sure I can invite Lilah to the set. I can’t blow this.

  “Can I help you?” a voice says.

  “Yes, I’m James Crawford. I’m here for the party.”

  “Yes, Mr. Crawford, we’re expecting you. Come on through.”

  A loud buzz sounds, and slowly, the metal gates open with a groan. I drive down the winding driveway to a two-story Mediterranean-style mansion that’s well over ten thousand square feet. I park behind a Rolls Royce and pull my keys from the ignition. Even after a decade, I’m still in awe of the wealth people have in this town. Never in my wildest dreams growing up did I think I’d see the inside of a place like this. For most of my life, all I thought about was survival. Both mine and Lilah’s.

  I step out of the car and pocket my keys to head up toward the house. Scott stands in the open doorway, a huge smile on his face.

  “You found me,” Scott says and pulls me in for a bro hug.

  “A satellite could find this place.” I gesture to the enormity of the property.

  He chuckles. “True enough. Honestly, I’d be happy with a small place down in Malibu, but the missus needs something to show off to her friends.” He smiles, and I don’t know him well enough to know if it’s a joke or not.

  He leads me inside, and after a twenty-minute tour of the main floor, he leaves me with his wife in a bustling kitchen. Scott’s wife, Melody, is about his age—in her mid-fifties—but is one of the most sincere, down-to-earth people I’ve met in this town.

  “Do you think you’re ready for what this film is going to do with your life?” Melody leads me onto a massive covered patio that stretches the length of the house.

  “Everyone keeps saying stuff like that, but I think I can handle it.”

  A bunch of A-listers and crew are already farther out, lingering around the pool, drinks in hand. I follow Melody to the far end of the patio, past a table that fits twelve people on each side, to the makeshift bar.

  “Success has a way of changing people.” She looks thoughtful for a moment. “But I hope, as you said, that you can handle it.” She smiles before she gestures to the bottles of booze. “Now, what will you have?”

  “Just a beer is fine. I have to drive home later.”

  The bartender reaches in the cooler and pulls me out a cold bottle of Stella.

  “Thank you,” I say, accepting the open bottle.

  Scott joins us again while I’m taking a swig of my beer. “Why don’t you go mingle while we check on a few things with the chef?”

  I nod. “Will do, and thanks again for having me over. And for the opportunity to play the part of The Regulator.”

  He clasps my shoulder. “You’re the right guy for the part. I have no doubt about that.”

  I smile before taking a short cut across the lawn to reach the people gathered near the pool. Recognizing a couple o
f producers I’ve worked with before, I join their small group and chat with them for a while. It didn’t take me long after arriving in Hollywood to figure out that relationships are what make you what you’ll be in this town. It truly is “who you know” in the entertainment industry.

  I mingle and make small talk until there’s a soft tap on my shoulder. I spin around to see a cute brunette who’s about a foot shorter than me. We met briefly during her casting tryout for my love interest, Destiny.

  “I wanted to introduce myself,” she says, her hand outstretched. “I’m Adelaide.”

  I place my hand in hers. “James.”

  “Nice to officially meet you.” She timidly smiles.

  “Same.”

  We stand in silence for a beat until she giggles, and I chuckle from the awkwardness, dissipating the tension.

  “So what do you think of all this?” She gestures around to the mass of people.

  I shrug. “Any excuse for a party, I guess, right?”

  She smiles and nods.

  “Seriously though, I think it’s a thousand times better than working on a set rife with tension.”

  She grins and her eyes sparkle. “Have you worked with Harris Boivin?”

  My eyes widen. “Ha! You too?”

  She nods. “That guy is such an asshole.”

  “Total creep. I was never so happy for a film to wrap than on his movie Dissonance.”

  “When he directed me in The Culling, he made one of the production assistants cry and break down on set. She never came back.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “He’s a total dick. I’ll be more than happy if I never have to work with him again,” she says, bringing her glass of white wine to her lips.

  “Unfortunately, this business is full of people just like him and we don’t always get to choose if we want the part.” I down another swig of my beer.

  “That’s the truth.”

  Scott approaches and wraps an arm around both of our necks. “Glad to see my two stars getting along so well.”

  “Yeah, we were just chatting about some mutual friends.” I wink at Adelaide, and her cheeks flush the lightest pink.