Chapter 15
Valentine
Past
“Hey,” I said sheepishly. I wasn't prepared for this, it was totally spur of the moment. I never thought he'd actually stay!
“Hey.” Arsen answered, leaning up against his father's truck, in the faculty parking lot.
After a minute of super painful awkwardness I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “What'd you think of the show?”
“It's official, you have terrible taste in men.” He cracked a slight smile.
Even that small gesture made my heart feel lighter. Ok, everything might be ok. I hadn't realized until now just how much I missed him and his stupid jokes. “That's Shakespeare, you jerk! Don't make fun of the classics.”
Arsen shrugged “Then Shakespeare has terrible taste in men.”
I laughed like I did when we used to hang out all the time. Just like that, the emptiness inside of me was filled up. I was surprised at how little it took from him to make me happy.
My laughter died down and there was a little bit of a pause, the elephant-in-the-room loomed above us. I sighed and decided to just get it over with. I needed to apologize for how mean I was to him outside of that abandoned building. “So, about what I said the last time I saw you, I didn't mean to come off so— I'm sorry.”
“Don't be.” Arsen grabbed my hand and goose bumps shot up my arm, even through the heavy winter clothes I wore. “The world doesn’t give a shit about me or my dad, but my mom does. And I needed to be there for her. It was what I needed to hear.”
Looking into his eyes, I felt like I could cry. I was also really upset with myself for not trying to reach out to him sooner. I wasted so much time without him... I wanted nothing more at that moment than to hug Arsen, to feel his great arms squeeze around me.
“Yo! Arsenal!” Marcus yelled out of the open window of his Porsche. He and his friends parked next to Arsen's truck, empty beer cans clattered out onto the pavement as they all got out of the car. They were all drunk and high.
Arsen let go of my hand. I shrunk back a few steps, it felt like I was a deflating balloon. This was such an important moment for me and they had to come and ruin it.
“Hop in, dude. We gotta go.” Marcus was drowsy-eyed, but still beaming proudly, he threw an arm around Arsen. “Stacy's parent's are away again, so she's throwing another pool party. This time it's invite-only and no one's allowed to bring a fuckin' swimsuit!”
Bastards... They'd come take Arsen away. After all of those wasted weeks I'd miss my window for reconnecting with him. This was a mistake. I wish I'd never texted Arsen.
Arsen flashed me a look, then addressed Marcus and the other three guys. “I'm busy. Maybe next time.”
They were stunned silent, then one of the other guys finally noticed me. “Are you crazy? Stacy mentioned you by name and you're gonna blow her off for Valentine? Just bend her over the bed of your truck and let's go—”
Arsen was too quick. I didn't even have time to be insulted, before the kid caught Arsen's fist in his mouth and was knocked onto his ass. Sometimes I forgot that Arsen was on the football team for a while. The boy wasn't unconscious, but his lip and nose were bleeding.
“Whoa! Take it easy, dude!” Marcus jumped back and shouted. “He was just fucking around. What's your fucking problem?”
“My problem?” Arsen asked, with white-hot gravel in his throat. He stepped between me and them. “You guys were supposed to be my friends. Where the fuck were you when my dad died, huh?” No one replied. “Valentine was the only one who gave a shit, she is my only real friend.”
“What about the party?” Marcus asked, in complete disbelief. “It's Stacy Miller, man!”
“Stacy can go fuck herself.” Arsen turned back to me and held out a hand. I was the one beaming now. I couldn't contain my smile if my life depended on it. No one had ever stuck up for me before, I worried that I might float off the ground. I took his hand, and he smiled at me. “C'mon, Val. I'll drive you home.”
Present
I woke up to my phone vibrating like crazy. I thought it was a dream at first, not just the cell phone, but everything. Getting shot at, having sex with Arsen, none of it made any sense. It had to be a dream.
“I'm going to destroy your fucking cell phone.” Arsen grumbled softly, in my ear. It was then I noticed that his arms were still wrapped around me.
It wasn't a dream!
I ran through the events of last night and made sure that no one saw us come into this motel or knew what happened. It would be devastating to my career. I felt guilty, ashamed and incredibly happy, all at once. I had just fucked my stepbrother!
No, it was more than that.
I had just fucked Arsen!
My phone went off again. What the hell was going on? My mind hadn't stopped racing since I woke up. I went to get up and check, but Arsen's strong arms tightened around me. I struggled, but he was in complete control.
“You're not going anywhere, it's not safe outside this bed,” he said sternly. “We're going to spend a few more days like this, then I'll think about letting you go.”
That sounded amazing. I wanted to do nothing more than to forget the world and lay low in this crappy motel room with him. But fairy tales were for children.
“If you don't let me go I think the phone might start foaming at the mouth.” I was the target of an assassination attempt. I didn't need to turn the TV on to know that I was the breaking news story. The calls weren’t going to stop.
“I'll buy you another one.”
“I have to at least let people know that I'm still alive.” I wasn't ever the reclusive celebrity type. If I disappeared for too long, sooner or later someone was going to track me down. And if they found me here, I'd have a lot more to answer for.
“Be quick,” he growled, loosening his grip on me. When I started moving he clamped his arms tightly again. “Because I'm not nearly done with you yet.”
I was glad he couldn't see the smile that gave me, although there was no hiding the shiver of taboo excitement that ran up my spine. He let me go for real and I grabbed my vibrating phone.
“A hundred and sixty messages! And nearly half as many voice mails, not to mention how many emails and social media notifications...” I slumped against the wall and reluctantly began to scroll through them. I did not want to deal with whatever this was.
“I'll put coffee on,” Arsen sighed, knowing as well as I did that the dream was over, at least for the moment. It was time to wake up and deal with whatever real life was going to throw at us.
“Careful!” I blurted, seeing Arsen casually step over the broken lamp pieces. I laughed nervously at the I-got-this look he shot back at me. “I, uh, forgot that we broke the lamp.
Arsen trashed all the pieces and stood up. “Yeah,” he said, mischievousness creeping across his face. “Let's break the bed next.”
He lingered long enough to see my face flush with heat, then he ducked out of the room to start the coffee. He could make me quake so casually now. Every bruise and soreness felt like a badge of perverse honor. I could still feel the lingering touch of his hands on my thighs and his cock inside of me. And I loved it.
I needed a deep breath -and probably a cold shower- before I could focus on my damn phone. The majority of the messages came from people I barely remembered, that saw me on the news and wanted to know more about what happened. I didn't bother with them, they were just looking to sell info to the tabloids. Out of all of the messages only one of them was worth listening to.
I called my agent back right away. “Michelle, it's Val. I got your cryptic message about an 'opportunity of a lifetime'.”
“Val? That nickname won't work.” Michelle was quick to interject.
Arsen must've been rubbing off on me. I never used that nickname anymore, although I loved hearing it on his lips. The more he said 'Val', the more I disliked hearing 'Valentine' from everyone else.
“It's too gender neutral. I guarantee it won't test well.” Michelle rambled on like only people who worked in entertainment could. “Here's what I'll do, I'll run it through the branding department—”
“Michelle.” I interrupted her. My agent was brutally efficient and one of the most expensive in the industry, and probably because of that, she was extremely tactless. “You know I was nearly shot last night.”
“Yes, yes,” she said. And I could picture her impatiently rolling her wrist in forward circles, as if to hurry that fact along. “I've been running spin control all morning. This is fantastic for PR for you! I've already had all the NDA's signed and obtained the film rights to the shooting. The script is being drafted as we speak. Your biography is easily a go-picture- 'Valentine's day' No. Just- 'Valentine.' Eh, it's a working title.”
“Michelle.”
“Oh, before I forget! Your stepbrother, does he have an agent yet? I can squeeze him in at just under half your percentage point. Find out if he's willing to go on the talk show circuit.”
“Michelle! Stop!” I hated talking to her first thing in the morning, she always gave me a headache. She was one of those people who talked at you until they ran out of words, then hung up if you let them. “Tell me about the opportunity.”
“Yes, that! I got you an audition for the upcoming period drama film, Mercy Lane with Phillip Seymour. How much do you love me?”
“What! How?” I was on the verge of hyperventilating. This was huge! It could be my 'Emma', the breakout role I needed to start doing more meaningful projects. I'd always dreamt about winning an Oscar, and with this role I might actually have a chance!
“Don't worry about all that, that's why you have me!” Michelle told me the rest of the details and when the call ended, I found myself sitting on the bed in a daze.
Then hysterical happiness crashed down on me, and adrenaline jolted through me like heroin. This was really happening! Between Arsen and this opportunity, I couldn't control myself, I started jumping up and down on the bed.
Arsen came back and I jumped at him. I didn't see that he had the coffees in his hands, but fortunately he was able to throw them aside and catch me before either of us got burned. He held me a few feet off the ground with ease, I loved that he was so strong!
“Aren’t you a little old to be jumping on the bed? Besides, I thought it was the rock stars that trashed hotel rooms”
“I'm only twenty-three, Arsen. It's not weird yet!”
He just looked at me for a few moments, taking in my giddy energy with a smile. “Good news?”
“Oh, you have no idea! Ever wanted to go to L.A.?”
“No,” Arsen didn't sound thrilled, but ultimately just shrugged it off. “Romeo might be interested, though.”