Laurelin Paige - Take Two

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.

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.