CHAPTER THIRTEEN
One Hell of a Commute
I arrived at Nick’s the next night, unsure of what to expect. I’d texted him earlier to see if he still wanted me to come over and he replied with a succinct “ok.” That was the only contact we’d had the entire day. We’d been so intimate, so connected, the day before, now we weren’t even talking. Since our first kiss we’d scarcely gone a couple of hours without one of us reaching out to the other, setting off a string of flirty texts or a long phone call. This was the closest we’d come to a fight, and for all of it to be unfolding the day after our first night together, well, the timing sucked.
He answered the door after the first knock. His face was drawn and grey, nearly the same color as his button-down shirt. My mood matched his clothes far better than the yellow sundress I was wearing. He gave me a quick smile but no greeting kiss. “Come in,” he said.
“You’re upset,” I said, stepping through the door. He closed it after me as I took off my sandals.
“I’m not upset,” he insisted. For such a good actor he was a terrible liar. “You had an assignment and you did what you had to do.”
“I can explain,” I said.
“You don’t have to. I know what happened. You had to make up for missing the deadline—”
“Which I only missed because I was waiting for you.”
“I get it. As my girlfriend, you had some information no one else had. I never said it was off the record, so that’s on me. It’s my fault for mixing work with my personal life.”
It was the first time he’d ever called me his girlfriend and I couldn’t even revel in the moment. Not when we were on the verge of a fight. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble with the studio. Or Tyler.”
“It’ll blow over. You know Hollywood. Some other big scandal will come along and everyone will lose interest. It’ll all be forgotten by the time Tyler gets out of treatment.”
He sounded sure, and why wouldn’t he be? He was a handsome white male in show business. As long as he kept making other people money, he could do whatever he wanted.
“So what did he say to you at lunch?” I asked.
He gave me a disapproving look. “You never stop working, do you?”
“That’s not what—“ I paused to collect myself and took a breath. “To be fair, you put me in an awkward position first.”
“It’s not a contest.”
I took his hand, my tone contrite. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t cool of me to write those things. I got swept up in trying to prove myself to Jackie and I was frustrated with you for not calling me back. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I said I’m not upset. It’s done. I don’t want to fight.” He pulled me into a hug.
“Me either.” I kissed him. It was a nice kiss, but there was no heat to it.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “Do you want to order some food?”
“Ooh, can we eat in the screening room?” I bounced on my toes, excited by the idea. Maybe this time we’d get to eat before getting sidetracked.
“Sorry, no food allowed in the screening room,” he said. I was about to laugh, but it caught in my throat when I saw his stern expression. He was serious.
“What kind of movie theater doesn’t let you bring in food?”
“The one in my house.” I knew he loved it, but this seemed a little excessive. Especially considering what we’d been up to in there the night before last. I pouted, but he was unmoved. “It’s my one and only rule.”
He didn’t know it, but if I followed rules I wouldn’t have been with him at all.
“Dining room table it is,” I said. I pulled out of his arms and headed into the living room.
He took out his phone. “Do you like poké?” he asked. “I know a place that delivers.”
“Okay poké,” I answered, my fingers forming a pair of guns. He gave me a halfhearted grin, then dialed the number. I cringed at my stupid, nervous joke.
We settled on the couch to wait for the food. He sat at one end and I laid down against the other, my feet on his lap. He rubbed them absently. “Hey, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” I asked.
“Oh, um. You know I’m going to be starting this film soon, right?”
I sighed as his fingers worked my soles. His touch was magic, even when he was distracted. “Right. Guess you’re going to be pretty busy for a while. I’m going to have to get used to the hours.” I spent a lot of late nights and early mornings waiting up for Adam to come home after long days on set. Or that’s where he’d said he was. I had no idea of knowing whether anything he ever told me was the truth.
Nick squeezed my toes. His usually expressive eyes were unreadable. “No, I mean . . . the set is in Vancouver.”
“Canada?” I sat up, resting my feet on the floor. “So you’re leaving town? When?”
He rested his elbows on his knees, his hands fidgeting. “I fly up a week from Sunday.”
Ten days. I bobbed my head, halfway between a nod and a shake. I couldn’t look at him. “How long will you be gone?”
“Two months,” he said, an apologetic note in his voice.
If we were in a good place I might feel differently about the separation, but this sort-of fight had put me on edge and a lot could happen in two months. “That’s . . . a while,” I said.
“It’s pretty standard for a film shoot.”
My mind was so busy processing this new information I barely registered the sound of the doorbell ringing.
He held up his hand. “Hold that thought.”
While he was paying the delivery guy I had more time to think about the implications of Nick leaving and what the separation might mean for us. Even if we came through it all right, was it just the beginning? Nick worked a lot, not always in L.A. The reasons not to date him were growing, but they couldn’t outweigh one undeniable fact: I was in love with him.
He returned with a plastic bag and we moved to the big dining room table. “Maybe this is a good thing,” he said, setting out bowls of fresh ahi tuna, rice, and vegetables. “Maybe we could use some space.”
Apparently, we had very different perspectives on this news.
“Wait”—I stilled his hand with mine—“is this . . .? Are we . . .?” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.
“No. I mean, I don’t want to. Do you want to?” he asked me, suddenly tense.
“No,” I replied without hesitation, and we both relaxed a bit.
“Okay. So we’ll take some time and figure things out.” He returned his attention to the delivery bags, unwrapped a pair of chopsticks, and handed them to me.
“So that’s it? That’s what you wanted to tell me?”
“Uh. Yep. That was it.” He didn’t look at me when he said it. He just kept rearranging the food containers already out on the table. Another lie.
I opened my bowl and dove into my fish. Nick nudged some rice around with his chopsticks. I wanted him to ask me to come visit him, maybe stay up there for a while. Was it too soon? I’d been to Vancouver for set visits before. It was lovely this time of year. I could imagine sitting with Nick by the waterfront where the mountains met the sea, watching the seaplanes land, captivated by a dozen shades of green and blue. But it was only a fantasy.
We finished the rest of our dinner in silence. We’d had a quiet dinner the last time I was here too, the first time — had it only been two nights ago? — but this was different. That night felt like beginning. This felt like the beginning of an end. Only I wasn’t ready for it to end. The problem wasn’t us, it was everyone else. We’d let the world in too soon. We needed time together to figure it out. He was leaving in ten days. I could spend the time moping or I could fight for us and show Nick our relationship was worth the effort.
I put down my chopsticks and stood up. He watched me carefully as I slid around to his side of the table and dragged out the chair he was sitting on. I straddled him as I’d done in the screening room and kissed him. “If I only have you for ten more days” — I growled — “I’m going to make them count.” I nibbled on his earlobe, then his neck, and felt his pulse quicken beneath my lips.
He wrapped his arms around me and met my mouth with his. In his eyes I saw love and urgency and a longing to connect that mirrored my own. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said.
“I don’t want you to lose me either,” I agreed.
I started unbuttoning his shirt and kissed him again, sucking on his plump bottom lip. He slipped his fingers beneath the thin straps of my dress, easing them down off my shoulders. His lips followed their outline, along my collarbone and up to my neck. Meanwhile, my fingers finished their work and I opened his shirt wider so I could access the skin underneath. He helped me stand up, then drew my dress down past my hips until it dropped into a sunny heap on the floor. I took his hand and walked backwards toward the couch, but I got there sooner than either of us expected and my knees buckled under. Footing lost, we tripped onto the cushions and wound up in a tangle of limbs. It was a fumbling team effort to strip off what was left of our clothes.
We were still new at this, but he’d been paying attention. I was an open book to him, and he’d marked the best passages. He found the spot on my neck, right below my ear, that made my whole body quiver. Then he moved down to my breasts, gently caressing and nipping at them, applying more pressure as I responded to his touch. The sighs and keening sounds he drew out of me encouraged him to seek out more sensitive places. He seemed to be everywhere, all at once. And wherever he roamed, my skin hummed.
Then it was my turn to show him what I’d learned. I listened to his uneven breaths, sucking in gulps of air as I moved my hand down to stroke his rigid length. I cupped and teased him until he stilled my movements. “I want this to last,” he whispered. “You’re so fucking sexy, Kate. I can’t take it.”
Piece by piece we remade ourselves, remade us, into a bulwark against the outside world. Glistening with sweat and warmed by radiant heat, our bodies glided in opposing motion, chasing completion. We drove each other higher and higher until all I saw were stars, shining all at once, exploding with light and color and sensation.
The next morning I awoke in Nick’s bed for the second time, once again startled from sleep by the sound my phone. This time it was the alarm I’d set for myself the night before. I had an early meeting with Jackie and I didn’t want to be late. I was on thin ice with her as it was. Nick rolled over and opened his eyes as I tossed back the covers. I kissed him and told him to go back to sleep.