by Daria M Paus
He inched closer, carefully leaning back against me.
I swallowed down a huge lump of nervousness, forcing myself to speak. "Maybe . . . maybe you could scoot down a bit."
He chuckled at my nervousness. Then doing as I requested, he slid down so his head was in height with mine and his shoulder no longer pressing against my chest. In this position it was natural for me to sling an arm around his shoulders.
Johnny sighed, relaxing against me, and I wished I could do the same.
My heart pounded in my chest, and I was sure he could feel it, maybe even hear it. His bare skin burned against my body and for what felt like the hundredth time, I questioned reality. Things like this didn't happen to people like me. Only in my dreams had I imagined it, more times than I felt comfortable admitting. But this was, as far as I could tell not a dream. It was real. I was really here. Johnny Grey was really here, in my arms.
“It feels good." His voice brought me back to reality and I couldn’t help but smile in amazement.
"Yeah." I could only agree. It was more than good. It was enough to make me consider religion. If there was a God, maybe this was his way of showing off his skills? No other explanation presented itself to me, and I wasn't sure I liked the idea of being a pawn in the big guy's games any more than I liked muddy pastures on a rainy day. But no matter the reasons, I couldn’t have asked for more.
Allowing the soft crackling of the fire to calm me, I combed my fingers through his hair, once in a while letting them continue down to his neck and shoulder and back up again.
Johnny let out a soft moan, sending shivers through me.
I continued the caressing. This time adding a bit of strength and rhythm into the motion, making it more of a massage than a light brush.
"That feels so good," he murmured. "Better than aspirin,” he added in a sleepy voice.
“They were like ten years old,” I said, and his low chuckle made me smile.
“How long will you stay here?” I asked.
It took a while until he replied, and the answer was unexpected.
“Forever.”
The sadness in his voice caught me off guard and I wasn’t sure how to reply.
“You don’t wanna go back.” I stated the obvious.
“I don’t,” he sighed.
“Why?” The little part of me which was still curious about the notes I had seen, couldn’t help but fish for answers.
“Just . . .” He didn't finish the sentence, and I knew I wasn’t going to get more information than that.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I said. “But I’m a good listener.”
“I’ll remember that.”
I must’ve dozed off because Johnny's head suddenly rested on my shoulder, his messy hair tickling my face. Nuzzling my face closer to his, I couldn't resist placing a kiss on the top of his head.
"You're not like the other girls, are you?" He murmured so low that at first, I wasn't sure he’d spoken at all.
"What do you mean?"
There was a long silence before he finally he spoke. "You're real."
"Not like the Hollywood girls?” I asked, and he chuckled.
"Kinda like that."
“Is that a good or bad thing?”
“A fucking good thing.”
The words slipped past my lips before I could stop them. “I doubt your girlfriend would be happy to hear that.”
Johnny tensed, and I held my breath, praying I hadn’t ruined the moment by making stupid comments.
“Pretty sure you know I don't have one.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. He was right. Before I had time to speak and embarrass myself further, he threw the question right back at me.
“What about you? Any boyfriend waiting at home?”
My breath hitched in my throat. It was an innocent question, so why did it feel like he’d just asked me out on a date? Don’t be ridiculous, my inner voice snapped. “No,” I managed to whisper. “I’m not really known to have that kinda luck with the boys.” I added. “They’re all dicks.”
Johnny chuckled. “I feel ya.” He shifted, letting an arm fall onto my lap, then he yawned.
“You’re special, Bree.”
I was at a loss for words. If Johnny thought I was special, I sure as hell wasn't going to correct him. But really, what was I? A poor country girl who didn’t know much about the world. That wasn't special, was it?
"Try to sleep," I said instead. "You'll feel better in the mornin’.”
"I already do."
I could barely hear him above the sounds of the storm, but his words made me smile a small tired smile. I let out a soft sigh, deciding to head back to the beach first thing in the morning. Resting my head against his, I imagined finding the silver watch in the sand, then I closed my eyes to finally sleep.
7
Fangirl Glasses
I woke up before Johnny and snuck off to the kitchen for a glass of water. As I was about to leave, my eyes drifted to the little notebook, lit up by the first rays of daylight. Guilt made my heart heavy as I tiptoed over to it, but it wasn’t enough to keep my fingers from reaching out to pick the little book up.
It was still open to the same page. My fingers trembled when I turned the page to the previous one.
It’s happening again, but worse. Don’t know how to get out of this and what will happen. How is it fair? How is it okay to ruin someone's life, and for what? Money? Fame? Fuck it all. Fuck her.
How can I focus? How can I do it for the people when they think the worst of me? When they think I’m like him? I have to get away. If I see another girl like her . . . They are all the same.
There's nothing for me here. I'm alone, and I can't take it anymore.
My vision blurred and a few salty drops landed on the page, making the ink dissolve and smear. Shit. I wiped my eyes, putting the book back on its spot where I'd found it. I couldn’t bring myself to read more. It was too raw, too uncensored. I didn't understand, but somehow it didn’t matter. All I could think of was the feeling behind those words, and the power they had over me.
Just like any other fan, I’d been convinced I knew everything about him. I’d read the papers, seen the movies, stalked him on the internet and drooled over his pictures. But standing in his darkened kitchen with his private words freshly imprinted in my mind's eye, I realized I knew nothing.
And how I wanted to change that. I’d never felt the need to get close to any other man. I’d always withdrawn when things turned serious. To protect myself from useless drama and heartache. Right now, all I wanted was to dive straight into the depth of his soul and be his anchor in the storm.
∞∞∞
The wind still had the power to make me stagger when I stepped through the front door. But even though it almost knocked me off my feet, it no longer had that chilling grip on my heart as I walked straight into it. And when I came down to that same beach I’d arrived at, it looked completely different. It was beautiful, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore calmed me more than it scared me. I’d always loved the sea and the sounds and smells that belonged to it. Watching it reminded me of how much I did love it despite what had happened.
I couldn't complain now when all was said and done. I was alive, and I got to meet the guy I'd been secretly dreaming of for as long as I could remember. What girl could ask for more than that?
Right then and there, I decided to make the best out of my stay here. This would be over all too soon, and I knew I’d never see Johnny again. I had a feeling he needed someone to care for him, maybe now more than ever. As crazy as it seemed; that one was me.
The thought of having to leave him saddened me, but I shook it off just as fast. Being here on this island, waking up with him still wrapped in my arms was more than I’d ever dreamt of.
An uneasy feeling started to take form in the back of my mind, and the feeling of being watched made me shiver. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected to see, but I scanned the beach. Seeing
only sand and palm trees, and a pair of lost birds trying to maneuver the winds, I started to relax. Between the trees I could see the house up on the hill, much clearer now than I had the other night in the dark.
My thoughts drifted to the notebook and to Johnny. I didn't know whether I should smile or cry.
Absentmindedly I stroked my arm, and a pang of sadness came over me as I remembered the reason I’d come down to the beach in the first place. The watch which had adorned my wrist for almost ten years had been a gift from my dad on my eighteenth birthday. The odds of finding it on the beach hadn't been high, but considering my previous luck, I had taken the chance. If I’d managed to end up on Johnny Grey's island, of all the islands available in the ocean, finding a lost watch seemed small in comparison.
I kicked a little stone into motion as I walked, smiling despite the loss. But the feeling came sneaking back into my mind, and the smile turned into a frown. I looked around, feeling stupid when I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Still, I couldn't let the feeling go.
"Johnny?" There was no answer, not that I’d expected one. When I’d left the house, he’d been asleep. Shaking the uneasy feeling off, I decided to head back.
When I came back to the house, I ran straight into him as soon as I stepped through the front door, and the uneasy feeling vanished in a flash. The questioning look he gave me made me feel like I needed to explain. He looked genuinely sorry to hear that my watch was missing. Truth be told, so was I, but I also realized there was nothing I could do to change the fact that it was, so I let it go.
Instead, I turned my attention to the man before me, and I suddenly saw him in a different light. It was as if the fangirl glasses finally had been removed. I could see the layers that he had kept secret from the rest of the world. He was no longer just a hot guy to drool over, he was so much more than that. And it made me feel even deeper for him.
I smiled up at him as his secrets burned deeply in my heart and mind.
"How are you doin’?” I asked.
He’d put on a shirt and buttoned it. I did prefer him without one, but it made me happy to see him feeling better.
“Headache's gone," he replied. "Back's still sore, but better."
"I'm glad."
"What about breakfast?" he asked.
My smile widened. “Sounds grand.”
“Great. You’re gonna make it.”
I stared at him, and the embarrassed look on his face made me laugh.
“I thought you said you know how to cook?” I said. “Prove it.”
He chuckled, but shook his head. “I can cook, just . . . not now.”
I couldn’t help but snort.
∞∞∞
When we were done eating, Johnny decided to show me around. Somehow the storm made the exploration of the island a little more adventurous. As we headed across the lawn, down to the largest stretch of the beach, I couldn't help but steal a glance at him. With the wind whipping his hair back, and the thin white shirt in which the top buttons had come loose, he looked sexier than ever. Not even the shadow of sadness that lingered on his face could diminish his beauty. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Not even when he looked back could I bring myself to look away. But to my surprise, he averted his eyes.
We walked in silence. When we reached the beach we stopped, watching the waves as they came in endless motion, devouring the sand with white foam and deafening roars. There was something special about a storm. The power it had over the sea was breathtaking. The taste of salt in the air and the typical seaside smell made me think back to my younger years when I'd been with my dad on his fishing boat back in Ireland. The memory made me smile, and for a few moments, I lost myself in the thought.
I felt Johnny’s gaze on me but didn't move. In my peripheral view I saw him standing there, eyeing me. I gulped, letting out a breath in slow motion just to suck a new one in just as slow. It didn't help my quickly racing heart. Shit. He was checking me out.
I cleared my throat, keeping my eyes locked on the horizon. "It's beautiful," I said, hoping my voice didn't sound as breathless as I felt.
He didn’t look away. “Yeah."
I finally looked at him, and as my eyes flickered to meet his, the pull of his gaze caught me like a fly in a spider’s web. I couldn't look away. I couldn't even breathe.
He broke the magic by tearing his gaze away, and I managed to catch my breath. For a few moments, I stood there, dazed and lightheaded from the sudden intensity of the moment, then I moved to sit, hoping the distraction would be enough to gather my composure.
The white sand was as soft as it looked but colder than I’d hoped for.
As I sat, staring at the surf, Johnny moved to sit next to me. His hand reached out, landing in my hair. His fingers brushed stubborn locks of orange tangles out of my face, and I froze, breath once again catching in my throat.
I slowly turned my head, and the motion made his fingers brush across my cheek. A bolt of electricity shot through me at the mere contact of our skin, and a gasp flew off my lips. He snatched his hand back.
"Sorry," he said.
I was sure I was supposed to say something, but could only stare at him. And honestly, what was I supposed to say? Don’t apologize… It was a good option, but way too bold and way too obvious. Touch me, my mind suggested. You can tell him that. I blushed.
He’d looked at me with clear intentions, but it didn't make sense. This was not some average douchebag, giving me dirty looks in the streets. This was Johnny Grey. A guy who could get any girl he wanted. A guy who could make any girl swoon from a look way less intense than what he’d given me. Me. I didn't know what to do. I didn't understand, but did it matter? I had a hot Hollywood star right next to me. A Hollywood star who's hittin' on you. My mind added and my cheeks burned. Just thinking of the possibilities was enough to make my pulse go wild.
Eventually the wind started to grow cold, and before I knew it, I was shivering. Johnny got back up on his feet, reaching out a hand for me. My hand trembled when I took it and let him pull me to my feet.
He hesitated, then wrapped an arm around my shoulders, giving me the impression that he thought the gesture was justified if I was freezing. That somehow it made it all right to touch me. But no matter the reason, the small action kicked my mind into overdrive. If he for some strange reason wanted me, why didn't he just make a move? He must know I would never be able to say no. Wasn't it embarrassingly obvious that I was attracted to him?
The words he’d written about girls came to my mind. How they were all the same, how fed up he seemed to be with the female sex. And it made perfect sense. But I started to think there was more to it than that. Was it possible that someone as perfect and famous as Johnny could be that insecure, and have bad luck when it came to women? I couldn’t recall ever reading about him having a successful relationship. And it seemed that every time, he was the one with the broken heart, and the women spreading rumors.
‘He’s impossible to be with.’
‘He’s too much hard work.’
‘He’s not the person I thought he was.’
I hated to admit the possibility of them being right, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that Johnny wasn’t easy to deal with. I knew that after only a few days with him.
"Let's go back," he said, and I nodded.
I wrapped my arm around his waist as we walked. The warmth from his body stopped the shivering and I pulled him a little closer. Pressed up against him made it hard to focus on anything else than the looks he’d given me, and what it could lead to.
8
Intimacy
As we sat on the sofa, one and a half bottles of red wine into the night, he looked at me with such intensity it made me blush. I was no longer surprised that every time he looked at me, I found it hard to breathe. But there was something more to it this time.
Those deep, dark eyes burned with something I hadn’t seen before and couldn’t explain. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
We’d had a few glasses of wine, but we weren’t drunk. Far from it, so I couldn’t blame his actions on the alcohol, even though it would’ve made more sense. Squirming under his gaze, I averted my eyes and pretended to study the fireplace.
“Bree . . .”
I glanced back, finding him awkwardly looking down at his hands.
“Hmm?”
He looked up. “You saved my life—in the storm. But the thing is . . .” He once again trailed off, giving me a small smile. “You keep on doing it, just by being here.”
It wasn’t what I’d expected, but I had a vague idea of what he was talking about. A pang of regret shot through me as the notebook came into my mind. I shouldn’t have read it. If he wanted to tell me, he would. But once the words were seen, I could not unsee them.
I wish I could end it all . . .
The words stayed in my mind, and when he brought it up, something about those words bothered me.
End it . . .
I’d assumed he’d meant the drama, but what if it had been more than that? What if he’d meant it on a much deeper level?
You saved my life; you keep on doing it . . .
I wasn’t sure what to think, but no matter what, I didn’t want to face what my heart already knew. It was too horrible to imagine.
"The reason I came out here . . . knowing about the storm,” Johnny’s voice brought my attention back to him. “I just wanted to get away from it all.” He fell silent for a long time, and I started to doubt he was going to continue. He twisted his scarf between his fingers, once again chewing that sexy bottom lip. Talking about it wasn’t easy for him, but finally, he took a deep breath and went on.
“You read about it; Nancy Webber. It’s in every fucking media across the country.”
I nodded. Maybe I’d been naive, but I was convinced Johnny couldn’t have done the things he was accused of. Of course, I’d never known if the tabloids were telling the truth or not. I’d made myself believe what I wanted to believe.
