by Monroe, Max
I mean, who just up and leaves their baby sister behind?
Me. I do. Well, I did.
But at that point in my life, it felt like the only way to survive.
“I think about calling Rocky nearly every day,” I confess. “But for some reason, I can never find the courage to do it. I just…feel bad for leaving her like that. No matter what bullshit I was into, I always looked out for Rocky. I was protective of her. And then I just left her to fend for herself. I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive myself for doing that.”
“I can imagine it was really hard for her,” Billie comments, her voice gentle like a breeze. “But I’m sure there’s a part of her that understands why you had to leave.”
“Fuck, I hope so.”
“And, not sure if you know this, but Raquel Weaver is a staple in Hollywood these days. Everyone knows her. Everyone loves her.”
“She’s always been lovable,” I say, and memories of my childhood fill my mind. My sister was always something special. An unavoidable force of sweetness and charm. The recollections spur a wistful smile to my lips. “Even when she was being an annoying little sister, she was still lovable.”
“So, you have no idea what’s going on with her these days?”
I shake my head. “Sadly, no. Not in the slightest.”
Billie searches my eyes and frets her lips.
“What?” I ask. “What’s that look for?”
“Well…because your sister is still in the public eye, I do know something pretty big that’s going on with her…” She pauses and then adds, “You’ve really never seen an article or just…Google searched her to see if you could find anything out?”
“The last thing I want to do is read about my baby’s sister’s life through a fucking gossip magazine’s eyes.”
When she doesn’t say anything, I start to fear the worst, that my sister is in some kind of trouble or going down a similar path as I did. I squeeze Billie’s hand. “What’s going on with Rocky?”
“Actually…” She frets her lip again.
“What?”
“I kind of feel bad telling you like this, but…she’s pregnant. Due pretty soon, I think.”
Holy fucking shit.
Ever since I left Hollywood, I’ve ignored anything related to it. Newspapers, the internet, award shows—all of it. But I’m not surprised my sister’s acting career is still going strong. I am, however, surprised as fuck to find out she’s expecting a baby I don’t even know about.
I’m going to be an uncle. Or, well, if I were still a part of her life, I would be an uncle.
My chest squeezes tightly.
“Pregnant?” I whisper.
Billie nods. “I’m sure I haven’t followed it as closely as the rest of the world, but it was front-page news pretty much everywhere when it was first announced.”
Christ. This is something I should’ve known about.
Something a big brother should be a part of and supporting his baby sister in…
“Who’s the father? Is she married?” I ask, a guilty knot in my throat about being so out of touch that I have to ask these questions, and I find it difficult to breathe.
“I can’t really remember his name,” she says with an apologetic shrug. “Somebody from outside of Hollywood. New York, maybe?” She bites her lip with a sad smile. “I’m sorry. I wish I could give you more.”
I shake my head rapidly. It’s not Billie’s fault I don’t know what the fuck is going on with my sister.
But the news of her finding someone outside of all the bullshit…someone to ground her, maybe… Well, it makes the edge of my mouth curl up into a small smile.
God. I hope to fuck she’s actually happy.
Billie squeezes my hand. “You know, if I were her, I would want to hear from my big brother.”
“I wish it were that easy.”
“But it is that easy, Luca. It’s just a phone call.”
I wish I were better with this than I am. But it’s something I’ve been struggling with for a very long time now. It’s not something I can just change overnight.
When Billie yawns three times in a row, I welcome the distraction and press a soft kiss to her hair. “You should sleep.”
“So should you,” she teases. “Or, you know, if you don’t quite feel like sleeping, maybe you could do a little reading by flashlight to help you relax.”
I smirk. “I don’t have anything left to read.”
“Uh, yes, you do.”
“No,” I answer. “I don’t. I read both of those stupid magazines you brought with you, and I finished the screenplay at Lou’s.”
“You, what?” she asks and starts to turn on her side, but I keep her firmly in place.
“I did read it, all of it, and I agree with you. It’s going to be an amazing movie,” I whisper into her ear. “Now, go to sleep because that’s all I’m willing to say about it for tonight.”
“Thank you for reading it,” she says, and her voice is already fading.
“You’re welcome,” I whisper. “Good night, princess.”
“Good night, Lucky.”
A soft, amused giggle leaves her lips, and I roll my eyes. Lucky.
It’s a ridiculous nickname, but for the first time since Lou started calling me that, with Billie in my arms, I actually feel like luck might be on my side.
Billie
There’s a reason toilets are nicknamed thrones; they should be treated like freaking royalty. From now on, I will speak only good things in their presence.
At a little after noon, we arrived at Luca’s house, and the first thing I did was plop my ass down onto his leather sofa in the living room. The first thing Luca did was take all of his shit upstairs and start unpacking. And, Bailey… Well, he was one-hundred-percent focused on re-marking his territory on every damn tree surrounding the cabin’s perimeter.
I’ve never had a dog, not even as a kid, but this dog’s funny personality and sweet demeanor make me wish I did.
Sadly, though, with my small-ass LA apartment and busy work schedule, a dog isn’t in the cards. But one day, I hope to find a sweet boy just as good and ornery as Bailey.
Once he’s at the deck doors whining like a big baby, I force myself off the couch and let him inside. He makes a show of lapping up water from his bowl before sprawling out on a rug that has just the right amount of warm sunlight for his liking.
I grin down at him, pat his head a few times, and proceed to head upstairs to see if Luca has finished unpacking.
“Luca?” I call out as I step over the master bedroom threshold, but he is nowhere to be found. And from what I can tell, he’s a stickler for keeping his shit organized. His big hiking backpack is now deflated and folded up perfectly in the corner of the room, and everything that was inside of it has magically disappeared. “Where are you?”
“In the shower!” he calls back.
Right on cue, my ears pick up the sounds of the shower filtering in from the master bathroom, and my eyes spot his discarded clothes sitting haphazardly on the hardwood floor, right in front of the walk-in closet.
Luca naked and in the shower? Yes, please.
The visuals that fill my brain make me smile.
Once I make my way into the bathroom, I don’t hesitate to remove my clothes and step inside.
Instantly, my eyes find a naked Luca with water dripping down his firm body in the most delicious way. My oh my, what a glorious sight this is.
“What are you doing in here?” he asks with one eye open; the other is firmly shut while his hands are busy lathering shampoo into his hair.
Steam billows up from the spray of hot water, and I willingly put myself under the warm stream coming from the large shower head placed at the center of the ceiling.
“I thought I’d enjoy a nice hot shower too.” I grin up at him. “After going without the option of a shower, you start to enjoy the little things in life.”
If there is one thing this crazy adventure has taught me
, it’s that toilets and hot showers are gifts from God. I will, for the rest of my life, be grateful for those two things.
Mark my words, I will never take the ability to pee in an actual toilet or take a hot shower for granted.
He snorts and puts his head under the water to wash out the shampoo. “You act like we were in the woods for months. It was a few days.”
“Six days, actually.”
“Spending the night at Lou’s doesn’t count.”
“Fine. Five days.” I squirt some body wash into my hands and start scrubbing it into my skin.
“And the last night, you chose to sleep under the stars.”
“You’re annoying,” I mutter, and he just chuckles.
Once I’m finished with the body wash, I grab the shampoo bottle from the ledge and pour some into my hand. When I start to lather it into my hair, Luca shoos my hands out of the way and takes over. “Are you going to wash my hair?” I peek up at him with one eye, and he smirks down at me.
“I am.”
“Are you okay?” I ask, still looking at him with one eye. “I’m starting to worry that maybe an alien took over your body or something when we were out in those damn woods.”
He laughs. “What are you talking about?”
“The first Luca I met was all broody and grumpy and, well, kind of an asshole. He certainly wasn’t a Luca I could picture doing something sweet like this.”
But damn, it feels good.
His fingers are heaven, massaging my scalp and hitting all the right spots.
“Maybe you’re the one whose body’s been abducted by an alien,” he says, and amusement tickles his voice. “The Billie who invited herself on my hiking trip was pushy and loud and abrupt and, truthfully, threw a lot of temper tantrums along the way. She certainly wasn’t a Billie I could picture letting me wash her hair without telling me how to wash her hair.”
“I wasn’t that pushy.”
He snorts. “If you were any pushier, we both would’ve fallen off that fucking mountain we climbed to get to Lou’s.”
“All right, so I was a little pushy. But you were grumpy as hell.”
“A lot pushy. And I was grumpy. I didn’t want you to come on the trip. Actually, I didn’t want you at my cabin at all.”
“But do you still feel that way?”
He grins down at me. “Pretty sure I already told you the answer to that last night before you seduced me into sex.”
A smile starts at the corner of my mouth and shoots straight across to the other side. “Good.”
“Be careful, princess. If you smile any bigger, it might consume your whole face.”
“Shut up and wash my hair, Lucky.”
He laughs. “Now there’s the Billie I first met. I knew she was in there somewhere.”
I nudge his bare stomach with my elbow, and he feigns discomfort.
But then he chuckles and tells me to shut my eyes so he can finish.
I follow his instructions, because why wouldn’t I?
This handsome, naked man is washing my hair.
If he told me to bark like a dog while he did it, I wouldn’t falter—Woof! Woof!
“I hope you know you’re staying here tonight,” Luca says and then finishes lathering the shampoo into my hair.
Even though I probably should try to get home, or at least someplace with actual fucking cell service and internet so I can get in touch with my sister and my boss, I’d already decided I was going to stay at his cabin for one more night.
I mean, the whole point of this trip was to talk him into doing Espionage, which I haven’t actually achieved. I obviously need to be here still.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that’s the reason why you’re staying one more night…
I ignore my stupid brain and flash a grin Luca’s direction instead.
“That’s good news because I wasn’t planning on leaving until tomorrow morning.”
“Perfect.” He chuckles. “Now, lean your head back so I can wash out the soap.”
I do as he says, tilting my head back and letting the water flow over my hair while Luca gently helps the shampoo out of the wet locks.
“All right, princess,” he says and pats my bare ass. “You’re all set.”
I turn around to face him, smile, and reach out with my hand to gently place it around his penis. I shake it. “Lovely doing business with you, sir.”
Luca bursts into laughter, and I just wink.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get out of this shower, raid your closet, and put on some of your clothes.”
“I do mind, actually.” He smirks and glances down at his cock—his now-growing cock. “Because we have some unfinished business before you start stealing my clothes.”
“Is that right?” I ask and slowly start to back out of the shower.
“That’s right.”
“Well, sir, I wish you good luck.”
He quirks a brow.
“Because you’re going to have to catch me first.”
On a giggle and a squeal, I dart out of the shower. My wet feet slip and slide across the bathroom tile, but I quickly gain my balance and head straight for his walk-in closet.
But he’s too damn quick.
Just before I reach the entrance, his big hands wrap around my waist and pull me into his arms.
I squeal. Luca chuckles.
And then we’re on the bed, soaking wet and cracking up.
His big, strong body hovers over mine, and when I stare up into his eyes, the mood changes.
My giggles slow to a stop.
My mouth moves to his.
And boy oh boy, do we finish that unfinished business.
Several times, in fact.
Luca
Goodbye breakfasts taste like bacon, eggs, and bullshit. But going back to Hollywood isn’t an option.
Our wake-up patterns have become a constant, and this morning was no different.
A little after the sun peeked her eyes above the horizon, I was up and out of bed.
Billie, though, was so deep in sleep, she was practically snoring.
And it was pretty fucking adorable.
No doubt, in a crazy-short amount of time, she’s crawled under my skin.
If pressed, I might even call her one of my favorite people on the planet. I may not like very many, but I have a feeling, even in a bigger field of contestants, she’d still find a way to float to the top.
I’ve grown used to waking up to her snoring softly beside me, and I relish the first minutes when she finally does wake up, her lips all pouty as she whines about coffee.
God, I even find myself listening for the moments when she starts humming her favorite song.
Now she’s a fucking fixture inside my mind, and I’m finding it hard to remember a time when she wasn’t around.
But today, she’s leaving…
I sigh and force myself to focus on the task at hand—making breakfast.
Eggs and bacon in the skillet and coffee brewing in the pot on the counter, I try to think about everything else but today’s reality.
Feeding Bailey. The laundry that needs to be done. The fucking weather.
The topic doesn’t matter as long as it’s not a blond-haired, green-eyed girl and the thousands of miles she’s about to put between us.
But my mundane thoughts are pushed right out the window when soft footsteps pad toward the kitchen and a sweet, all-too-familiar voice fills my ears.
“Something smells ah-mazing,” Billie says as she walks into the kitchen. I turn away from the stove to watch her head straight for the coffeepot.
“Are you talking about the food, the coffee, or me?”
“All three.” She flashes me a cheeky little grin. “What are you making?”
“American breakfast staples…” I pause and gesture dramatically toward the skillet with the spatula in my right hand. “Eggs and bacon.”
“Sounds magical.”
Magical. The only magical t
hing in this kitchen is how goddamn beautiful she looks this morning. Sleepy eyes, fucking pigtails, and dressed in my boxer briefs and T-shirt… This has to be my favorite Billie look.
“Scrambled eggs okay with you?”
“Yep,” she says, eyes already moving toward Bailey. He sits at her feet, his tail wagging back and forth across the kitchen floor. “Good morning, bubby.”
The bastard loves any and all attention Billie gives him, and the mere idea of how he’ll act when she leaves today makes my chest ache.
She is supposed to head back home to LA, and we’ll be here. In Alaska. Without her.
Fucking hell, whose fault is that?
I turn back toward the skillet and force myself to focus on the food, rather than my mind’s fully justified scolding, but it’s hard. The fact is, Billie will be out of my life today if I can’t convince her to stay or convince myself to leave. None of it is simple or planned, and I don’t know what to do to make it right.
How in the hell did I let all of this happen? Why did I let myself open up to her and listen as she poured her heart out to me? Why didn’t I tell her to get the fuck off my property and leave it at that?
Irritated with the situation—irritated with myself for allowing it—I shut out my thoughts again. Just up and force them the fuck out of my head and finish making breakfast.
The food is ready in no time at all, and I serve a plate full of eggs and bacon to a smiling Billie.
“Thank you.”
God. That smile. It makes me feel lighter. Like my own personal salve, it loosens the anxiety tightening my chest.
“You’re welcome. Would you like to pay the bill for this delicious food now or after we eat?”
“The bill?” she asks, a snort escaping her nose. “What’s the damage?”
“Oh, it’s quite expensive.” I reach out and tug at the end of one of her pigtails. “Hopefully, you can afford it.”
She laughs. “How expensive?”
“One long, deep, sexy kiss.”
“A kiss?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, that, sir,” she says and stands up from her chair. “Is most definitely something I can afford.” On her tippy toes, she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls my lips to hers.
