Take Two (31 page)

“I’m…” She considered all the answers she could give including the stock ‘I’m not avoiding you’. She settled on the truth. Why not? She’d told Bree she would be honest with him if she had the chance. “Because I’m afraid if I see you again, I’ll never want to not see you again.”

He sighed, as though relieved by her response. “Then don’t not see me again.” He reached over and stroked her cheek. “I miss you.”

She leaned into his caress, her skin vibrating under his touch. “I miss you too.”

“I tried to tell you, we can still see each other.”

She took his hand from her face and held it in her lap. There. She could concentrate better. “But you’ve already decided we won’t work out, Micah. So I didn’t see the point.”

“Forget what I’ve said.” He put his other hand around hers. “No decisions. No preconceived notions. One day at a time. I want to keep seeing you.”

Her heart sped up at his admission. “Then you believe a celebrity relationship might work out?”

“I still don’t know that yet, Maddie.”

She pulled away before he finished talking, wrapping her arms around herself. “I can’t do this, Micah. I can’t be a test subject for your theory.”

“That’s not at all what you are.” He brushed his hand through his hair. “This is hard for me, Maddie. Why can’t you give me time to figure all of this out?”

“How do you plan to do that? The shoot’s over. We can’t sneak around so easily. People will see us together and you’ll have to admit that we’re something. What will you say to the press?”

He answered her with a guilty stare.

“Oh, I get it.” Realization dawned on her. “You aren’t planning on telling anyone anything.”

“It’s nobody’s business but ours.”

“How do you imagine that will work? Do we get hotel rooms? Or do I just act like I’m all into Fudge when we’re in public and hope the media just assumes I’m with him? Or do you just not say anything and let everyone think I’m just another one of Micah’s many girls?”

“Don’t make it sound so disgusting. It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?”

Micah stood and paced the room. “You don’t get it, Maddie. The press makes everything a whole other ballgame.” He stopped and faced her. “The minute they’re involved, they’ll descend on us.”

“You mean, the minute they’re involved, it’s real.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” He put one hand on his waist, his fingers resting at the band of his slacks. “I’m trying to protect you, Maddie. You can’t imagine the things they’ll say. They’ll dig up your Beaumont past. They’ll dismiss your movie because you’re Micah Preston’s girlfriend.”

“Or you’re afraid that I’ll take advantage of you because I’m your girlfriend.”

“That’s Lulu talking. You aren’t like that and I know it. And I couldn’t care less what the media thinks about my involvement with your movie. What I do care about is what they say about you.”

She stood, gathering her argument around her before delivering it full force. “But that’s what it means to be part of your life, Micah. And I want to be part of it. All of your life, not just the parts you think I’m ready for. How else will I ever know what it really means to love you?”

There. She’d said it. And not during sex. No going back now.

He took a step toward her. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it. Then opened it again. “Why does it matter what I say to journalists when I’m sharing my bed with you?”

Her eyes felt moist. She’d said “I love you” and he ignored her. Again. “It makes me your shameful little secret.”

“No.” He placed his arms on her shoulders. “It doesn’t.”

She shrugged out from his grip. “It does. And it’s not just journalists. It’s charity events where I watch with your fans while you hang on the arm of women you’ve slept with. It’s you lying to important people about who I am in your life. Would you even tell your mother?”

His pause told her no.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“You promised me, Maddie, that you wouldn’t care what other people thought or knew. That you’d come to me. That you’d talk to me.”

“I am talking to you. And I don’t care about what they think of me. I care about what you think about me. What it means that you don’t want to tell people about me. If you cared about me at all, you wouldn’t ask me to be a secret. It’s not fair. It’s selfish.”

The lines of his jaw hardened. “And you weren’t being selfish when you decided when and how we were going to end without giving me a chance to respond?”

She hung her head as if she’d been slapped. “You’re right. I ran away—I run away, Micah. That’s my M.O.” She took a deep breath. “But I’m not running now. I’m telling you how I feel and that’s not easy for me. Did you hear me? I love you. I want to be in your life. For real.” A tear escaped down her cheek.

He caught her tear on the tip of his finger. “Maddie…” His voice was low and pained.

But he didn’t say it back. He didn’t love her.

Her heart broke. The dam of tears burst and she swiped as they fell. “I know. You have to choose and all that. You’ve told me. Well, I choose too. And I’m choosing this. I…can’t see you.”

He closed his eyes, pain etched across his features. When he opened them again, he’d turned hard. He nodded once.

Maddie choked back a sob. He was letting her do this. Letting her walk away. She had hoped he would fight harder for her. But he didn’t.

“Goodbye, Micah.”

As she passed by him, he grabbed her and pushed her against the wall. “Just one more kiss,” he said, his eyes pleading.

It would be hard to stop once she started, but she wanted his mouth on her. Even if it was only one more time. “A kiss goodbye, then.”

He pressed his body to hers, his stiff member throbbing through his pants against her pelvis. He put his hands on the sides of her face and held her still, capturing her lips in his.

He kissed her roughly, desperately and within moments she surrendered to his demanding mouth. Warm liquid pooled between her legs as she melted into him. She loved this like she loved him. She wanted him like this always. He moved a hand down to her breast. His fingers kneaded her frantically, drawing her nipple out easily.

She moaned, and he moved his lips to her ear. “Doesn’t this mean anything to you?” His voice was thick with need. “What you do to me? How you respond to my touch?” He pinched her nipple and her breath drew in sharply. “Can you really walk away from this?”

Maddie moved her hands to his chest and, fighting against every aroused nerve ending in her body with more strength than she knew she had, she pushed him away. He dropped his hands and stepped back.

She wiped her mouth, trying to erase the taste of him. “It’s sex, Micah,” she said when she could speak. “As long as you’re officially free and single, that’s all we have.”

She turned again to leave, but paused in the doorway. “Silent partner, I think.”

“I’ll tell Richard.” His voice was cold and empty, breaking her heart further—she hadn’t known it was possible.

Without another word, she walked out on Micah Preston, her chest aching, and her pride hurt. It killed her to admit, but she had learned something important: Fairytale endings only ever happened in the movies.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Micah woke up with a hangover from hell. He peered over at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Ten forty-seven a.m. How come it felt so much earlier?

He lay in bed, massaging his temples for several minutes to no avail. Finally, he staggered to the bathroom for Advil only to find an empty bottle in his medicine cabinet. Dammit.

He relieved himself and splashed water on his face, then ventured downstairs in search of pain reliever. Dressed only in his boxers and squinting to shield his eyes from the bright light of day, he stumbled to the kitchen of his Brentwood mansion. Fudge sat on a stool at the island, eating a bowl of cold cereal, reading the latest
Walking Dead
comic book.

“Morning,” Fudge greeted around a mouthful of Cinnamon Life.

Micah groaned, heading straight for the stainless steel refrigerator. “Could you crunch a little less loudly, please?” He opened the freezer cabinet, pulled out a package of frozen peas—when on earth had he purchased frozen peas?—and placed the vegetables over his throbbing forehead.

Fudge tsked. “Feeling the effects of last night? I’m not surprised. I think you drank all the tequila.”

“Tequila?” Micah leaned back against the cool stainless steel door. “I thought I was drinking vodka.”

“That was the night before.”

The night before, that’s right.
How many nights had he spent in a drunken haze now? Let’s see, since Tuesday after he’d last seen Maddie. What was that…five nights ago, now? Christ, if he kept this up he was going to be an alcoholic in no time.

Micah threw down the peas and rubbed his hands over his face. “Do you know where I can find some Tylenol or something?”

Fudge waited until he swallowed to speak. “There should be some in the cabinet under the minibar.”

“Good place for them.”

He made his way to the minibar in the dining room off the kitchen. There he found a bottle of aspirin, emptied two small pills into his hand and downed them with the rest of the almost empty bottle of Cuervo Gold. Hair of the dog that bit him, he reasoned.

After tossing the finished Cuervo into the trash, he opened the minibar’s fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. “Do I have anything going on today?” he asked as he returned to the kitchen.

Fudge flipped a page in his comic book. “Hmm? I don’t think so.”

Even the sound of pages flipping irritated Micah. He took a swig of water, wishing it was something stronger. “What time do I have to be at the award show tomorrow?” He paused. “That is tomorrow, isn’t it?”

Fudge dropped his spoon in his bowl, causing an annoying clank. “Am I your secretary now?”

His friend had been teasing, but Micah wasn’t in the mood. “You’re my half-assed bodyguard who lives free of charge in my pool house. Excuse me for thinking you could maybe pull a little weight around here.”

“Grumpy.” Fudge rolled his eyes then crossed to the kitchen laptop. He clicked on a desktop icon and turned the screen to Micah. “Here. I pulled up your calendar.”

Micah massaged his scalp, trying to rub away his irritation. “Ooo, thanks. What effort that must have taken.”

“What the fuck is your problem? You’ve been in a foul mood all week.”

Micah ignored Fudge and glanced at the laptop. Yep. America’s Choice Awards were scheduled for the next day. At least he wasn’t up for an award. He was just a presenter—a much easier job with very little focus on him from the press.

“In fact,” Fudge was still talking. “You’ve been in a foul mood since that investment meeting you went to about Maddie’s movie.”

Micah scowled at her name. He didn’t want to think about her, hence the recent large consumptions of alcohol. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pulled the laptop closer, not really looking at it, but trying to discourage Fudge from conversation.

Fudge wasn’t deterred at all. “Come to think of it, you’ve been a bitch since the last week of filming. Since right around when Maddie left production.”

Ow,
her name again.

Fudge patted Micah on the back. “Did the standard Preston brush-off not go well?”

Micah let out a groan. Even though the two of them were good friends, he didn’t share much emotional crap with Fudge. What he knew about Micah’s personal life was from observation and interrogation. Interrogating was today’s tactic.

“I didn’t give her the standard Preston brush-off. We ended things mutually.” Only a partial lie. She wanted one thing, he wanted another. They’d both had a chance to let it not end, and neither of them took it.

“Then why are you moping over her, dude?”

Micah shut the laptop lid. It wasn’t like he was really looking at the computer screen anyway. “I’m not.”

Fudge pulled a near-empty bag of Cheetos from the pantry. “You’re certainly moping over something and every time I say the name Maddie Bauers—”

Micah winced.

“You wince. What’s that about?”

Damn Fudge and his inquisition. He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “She wants me to be a silent partner.”

“So?” He popped a Cheeto in his mouth and grimaced. “These are stale as crap.” He put another three in his mouth, crunching noisily.

“They’re from before Colorado. I’ll put them on the list for the housekeeper. She won’t be here until Monday, though.”

“That’s cool.” Fudge ate another Cheeto. “Anyway, I thought you were just helping Maddie out financially. Are you interested in contributing creatively?”

Micah watched Fudge as he put yet another Cheeto in his mouth. “Why do you keep eating them if they’re bad?”

Fudge shrugged. “Why aren’t you answering my question?”

Micah took another swig of his water, noticing that his head felt the slightest bit better. Talking no longer seemed quite so unbearable. “I’m not interested in contributing creatively.” How could he explain how he felt about being sidelined on Maddie’s movie? “I just…I don’t know…I really enjoyed talking through the process with her. It made me remember why I loved this whole business in the first place because she’s still so fresh about it. She has a good eye, very creative. Super intelligent. And when she gets a new idea or hits a roadblock, she likes to bounce it off someone.” He paused, remembering. “She’ll get all fidgety and she starts pacing and talking with her hands. And her beautiful brown eyes get all big and bright.” He smiled. “By the time she’s finished telling it, she’s always worked it out herself, but it’s stimulating to be near her when…what?”