by Serena Grey
There are multiple questions raging in my head, but I say nothing as she kisses me, steps outside the door, then turns around to kiss me again.
“See you later, Aidan.”
I watch her walk to the elevator and wait until the doors slide shut before going back to my bedroom. There, the rumpled sheets on the bed, the mild scent of sex in the air mixed with her perfume…it all reminds me of her.
Before, she was like a wound in my soul that could never heal, now, she’s fused to me, body and soul, and I know I have no hope of ever separating myself from her.
“She’s really something, isn’t she?”
Reed is standing beside me at the edge of the stage, watching Liz. She’s exceptional, bringing such a radiant, shimmering quality to her performance that I’m finding it hard to choose the right words to describe it.
“Yes, she is.”
Between scenes, she smiles graciously as people offer their condolences, but she doesn’t dwell on her grief.
“Dennis McKay was a great guy,” Reed continues. “He’d be proud of how strong she is.”
I nod my agreement. She is strong. Stronger than I could have been in the circumstances.
She leaves the stage after rehearsals and it takes me a while to extricate myself from a tense discussion with the lighting technicians, but when I do, I go to find her, drawn by a longing I can’t control.
The excited conversation from the few people I pass on the way to Liz’s dressing room should have given me a clue, but I’m not paying enough attention. I enter her dressing room before I realize she’s not alone.
She’s standing beside the chair in front of her mirror, wearing only a silk robe. Beside her, with one arm around her shoulders, is a man whose famous face I’d come to hate almost as much as I told myself I hated Liz all those years.
Devlin Coates.
Her first big co-star.
Her tabloid love interest.
Her ex-fiancé.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t come earlier,” he whispers to her. “I came as soon as I could get away.”
Jealousy sears me like a hot knife. I should walk away, but I can’t. Devlin notices me first and with excruciating slowness, he releases Liz and turns his megawatt smile and capped dentition in my direction.
Liz turns at the same time. “Aidan…” Something like guilt crosses her face. “Devlin, this is Aidan Court, my… director. Aidan, Devlin Coates.”
Devlin stretches out his hand to me with a good-natured smile. “A pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard of you and seen your work.”
I bare my teeth in a semblance of a smile. I’d much rather throw his plastic ken-doll face and body out of the room, the theater, the city. “Same.”
“I came to offer Liz my condolences.” He smiles fondly in her direction. “I’ll leave you two…” He stops and touches her cheek and I want to punch him. “I’ll call you later.”
She nods. He gives me another pearly smile as he walks past me. The door closes behind him and I find Liz watching me, her face uncertain.
“I didn’t know you had a guest.” My voice is tight.
“He just stopped by. I had no idea he was coming.”
I take in her state of almost casual undress. In her robe, she looks young and delicate and excruciatingly beautiful.
A view I hate to share with anyone, especially her ex.
“You seem very comfortable around him.”
She takes a step toward me. “Aidan, he’s just a friend.”
Is my jealousy so obvious? She’s grieving. I should be more considerate, but I just want to remind her, again and again, that she only belongs to me.
Except she doesn’t.
Not really.
“You don’t have to explain.” I force a smile. “It doesn’t matter what I think about your relationship with Mr. Synthetic-smile Hollywood heartthrob.”
She sighs. “It matters to me.”
Why? I want to ask. Why do you need me to believe we have a chance? How soon until you crush my heart again?
“I just came to check how you were doing.” I continue. “Obviously, you’re fine.”
I turn to the door, but her voice stops me.
“Aidan, don’t be like this. Don’t leave.”
I take a deep breath, waiting as she takes the few steps to where I’m standing.
“Don’t leave like you don’t know how much I need you.”
I breathe in her scent, intoxicated by her.
For how long, Liz? How long will you need me?
“Don’t leave,” she says again, then holding my gaze, she shrugs off her robe. Underneath, her skin is smooth, and I recall how it feels to my touch, like the softest silk. Wordlessly, I let my fingers trail over her shoulders, feeling her tremble at my touch.
My Liz.
I cover her lips with mine and her breath escapes in a low moan.
I will never get enough of her. I know that now, more than I know my own name.
“I need you,” she whispers.
“And I need you.” I let her see the truth in my eyes. “I need you more than I need to breathe.”
She wraps her arms around my neck and lifts her face up to mine.
And I’m lost.
Chapter Thirty
Liz
Aidan carries me over to the small couch that sits along a wall in my dressing room and lowers me onto the soft cushions. When I reach for him, he pats my hands away and covers my body with his, his weight supported by his strong arms.
I look up at him in wonder, almost unable to believe that he’s here with me. He looks down at me, incredible in his beauty. Arousal surges through me. He’s like an aphrodisiac, and he owns my body, every inch of it.
He slides his lips over mine, probing gently with his tongue and then surging inside my mouth. I give myself to him, hungry for the taste of his lips, the feel of his tongue against mine.
He trails a kiss down from my lips and along my body until his head is between my legs. Hungrily, as if he can’t wait to taste me, he spreads my thighs and covers me with his lips and tongue.
I moan, helpless with pleasure. His tongue flicks around my clit, then starts to explore, soon he’s teasing my trembling slit, pushing his tongue inside me, while using one masterful finger to play with my clit.
I’m weak, unable to do anything except surrender my body to him. He’s skillful and attentive, and he knows exactly how to reduce me to a screaming, shivering mass of pleasure.
I come with a soft cry, my core throbbing as pleasure explodes behind my eyes, and then he’s ripping off his shirt and undoing his pants, teasing me with the hard, rounded head of his cock and the promise of more pleasure.
I thrust my hips forward as he slides inside, taking him so deep inside me, my eyes roll back with the unbelievable sensations.
He starts to move, and I hold on to him, clutching at his shoulders and meeting every thrust as I urge him on. I want all of him, everything he has to offer.
“Don’t stop,” I moan in his ear. “Don’t ever stop.”
“Never.” His chest heaves and my breath hitches. I’m panting, breathless, but I want more, more of him.
He rises to his knees and lifts my legs around his waist. My eyes fix on the bunched muscles of his chest and belly as he makes love to me.
So perfect.
He rolls his hips and plunges deep into me, again and again, until I’m incoherent with pleasure, repeating a garbled version of his name.
In response he thrusts faster, deeper. My body twists as I let go. My vision explodes and I hear his cry as he loses control, spilling himself inside me. He’s still for a moment, holding my legs, breathing hard, then he lets out a deep shudder and lays over me, careful to put his weight on his elbow.
Cupping his face in my hands, I kiss him full on the lips. The last thing I want to think about is Devlin’s brief appearance and the other aspect of my life calling for my attention. “I’ve wished for this moment for so long.”
“Good thing you have me to make your wishes come true.” His lips quirk in a small smile, but it soon disappears, replaced by a worried frown.
“Tell me,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “It’s you who has something to tell me, but I’m guessing you will when you’re ready.”
To leave or to stay.
He has guessed that I’m thinking about leaving, and with Devlin’s appearance, how can he not be concerned?
“Devlin was here as a friend,” I tell him. “Not as an emissary to lure me to back to L.A.”
Aidan shrugs. “Something will lure you back though, won’t it?” His tone is bitter. “Sooner rather than later.”
I don’t reply. Pain is churning in my chest. I turn my face away from his, finding something on the wall to capture my attention.
A week ago, I’d have said no, without hesitation.
But now?
He’s waiting for me to say something. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, then turn back to face him. “Why are you here with me, Aidan? Why are you supporting me?” I hate the words even though I have to say them. “Is it because my father died?”
He pushes off the couch and takes a step away from me, then turns back to glare in my direction. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I rise from the couch and pick my robe up from where it’s lying on the floor, putting it back on before facing Aidan again.
“I can’t forget the things you said to me just days ago. What changed your mind about me?” I jerk the sides of my robe together and secure the tie. “My loss? I want your love, Aidan, not your compassion or pity.”
He makes a sound that’s not quite a laugh. “I can’t believe you’re making this about me. If you don’t plan to stay, Liz. Own it. Don’t try to tell me you’re leaving the play because I didn’t let you seduce me as soon as you arrived.”
I pull in a breath. “A week ago, you couldn’t stand to be in the same room with me.”
“Right now, I’m returning to that particular state of mind.” He laughs bitterly. “So, you’re leaving?”
I exhale. “I am.”
I watch him freeze. I watch the air around him still and turn icy. He doesn’t say a word, but the coldness in his eyes makes me flinch.
“You never intended to stay.” His voice is hard and condemnatory, like frostbite on my skin. “You want me to believe you came back for your dad and also because of me, but you’re lying, aren’t you?” His eyes rake me. “I was a coincidence, an attractive little entertainment to amuse you while you spent time with your father. All this…” He makes a wide gesture. “It’s all been another one of your selfish games.”
My eyes are tearing. “You know that’s not true.”
He takes a step toward me. “No, Liz. What I know is that you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
“Don’t act like I didn’t try everything. You kept pushing me away. I gave up. You made me give up on you.”
“So, it’s my fault?” His voice is laced with anger. “You can tell me you never meant to stay. You can tell me I never meant as much to you as you tried to make me believe.” His voice cracks. “Tell me that truth at least.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” His chest rises. “Damn you, Liz. Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?”
My eyes fill with tears, and soon they’re running down my cheeks. “Because I love you.”
“Fuck love. It can burn in hell.” He laughs. “Nothing is enough for you. Not me, not the play. The only thing that matters is you and your ego, and now, after playing the hero daughter to your dad, you can go back to feeding on the adulation that’s everything to you.” He glares at me, his eyes dark and stormy.
Tell me you love me.
Ask me to stay.
His eyes burn into mine, and when my eyes fill with tears, he makes a move toward me, his expression almost tender, then changing his mind, he turns on his heel and heads for the door, and out of the room.
Chapter Thirty One
Aidan
I had to resist the urge to take her in my arms and comfort her.
Ridiculous.
Comfort her for breaking my heart, again.
I’m angry. Angry, sad, humiliated and fucking desperate. I slam out of her dressing room, eager to get as far away from her as possible.
After a quick train ride home, I get my car keys and head out of the city, wishing I still had my bike. To Landon’s relief, I gave that machine up after Liz crushed my heart the first time.
I can measure my adult life by the heartbreaks by Liz. The realization is darkly funny, but I’m in no mood to laugh.
A few hours later, I pull into the driveway at Windbreakers. The beautiful mansion stands on a bluff, overlooking the ocean on one side. It’s the house where I mostly grew up. It’s the place where my father died when I took his already broken heart and shattered it even more.
Maybe Liz is my punishment.
The house looks empty from the outside. Wilson and Betty, the Hayes, have a built-in apartment and rarely use the multitude of rooms in the main house. I let myself in, and as I close the door behind me, the light comes on and I see a bleary-eyed Wilson in a dressing gown.
“Aidan.” He looks surprised to see me.
“We didn’t know you were coming.” Betsy follows close behind him, concern etched on her face. She hurries up to the door as fast as her cane will let her, and studies my face, looking for signs of stress, or residue from Liz’s destruction.
I offer a smile to put her at ease, feeling bad for giving them reasons to be concerned. “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
“Is everything all right? With work? With the play? Have you spoken to Landon?”
I shake my head. “I’m just tired,” I tell her. “Go back to bed. I’m going straight to sleep.”
“After I make you something to eat,” she insists. “A sandwich?”
I accept and we all go to the kitchen. Wilson makes conversation about the play while Betsy watches as I dutifully consume the sandwich.
They linger for a while before going back to bed. I head to my old bedroom and stay only a moment before heading out to the back porch.
It’s dark, but the moon is full, and I can see the waves as they crash on the beach. I try not to think of my dad, and that last night.
I killed him.
Now, it’s my turn, to lose what I love. To watch my life return to the emptiness of lacking Liz.
Is this what I deserve, dad?
There’s no answer.
I walk along the beach until the cold drives me back inside. Then I go up to my room and fall asleep.
“Uncle Aidan!”
“Is he awake?”
“No, he’s asleep.”
“How do you know?”
A small hand pulls my eyelid open. I groan and turn over.
“He’s awake!” a childish voice announces jubilantly.
“No, I’m not,” I grumble.
“How can you talk if you’re sleeping?”
I crack open my eyes and see Preston looking at me, waiting for an answer. Damien sidles up to the bed. “You have hair on your face,” he lisps.
“That’s because…” I grab them both and pull them onto the bed. “I’m a monster... grr grr grr.”
They’re laughing hysterically when I notice their mother at the door.
“Breakfast,” Rachel announces. The boys whoop and run out of the room, abandoning me. “You too.” She peers at me. “You look like hell.”
“That’s how I feel.” I shrug, then frown. “You weren’t here last night.”
“Nope. We decided on an impromptu visit this morning.”
“Or last night when Wilson called and told you I was here, in a state.”
“Actually, it was Betsy.” Rachel shrugs. “She said you looked like you were going through a lot.”
I groan and roll off the bed.
“Why don’t you take a shower and
join us for breakfast?” she suggests. “We’ll talk later, okay?”
She leaves me alone to do as she asked. Downstairs, the kids are joyous at the unplanned family reunion and they laugh and scream and race around the house despite all attempts to calm them.
Landon hovers between amusement and disapproval at their antics. He’s feeding Penelope, and the little angel is kicking in her highchair like she’d love to be running around with her brothers.
“Where’s the nanny,” I ask, settling at the kitchen table.
“Day off,” Rachel says. “It’s just us.”
After breakfast, the children go to play on the beach, and we watch them from the back porch while Penelope snoozes in her rocker.
“So, you want to tell me what happened?” Landon asks.
“Nothing that required you to bring the whole family down here,” I reply with a shrug.
He laughs. “We needed a vacation, anyway.”
I snort to let him know what I think about that lie.
Rachel calls out to the children then turns to look at me. “If it’s Liz, you shouldn’t be giving her a hard time. Not now, after she lost her father.”
Oh, I’m the villain giving saint Liz a hard time? “She’s leaving the play,” I mumble.
“Oh!” Rachel looks from me to Landon. “Oh Aidan, I’m so sorry.”
I’m quiet. She knows what that means to me. I’m probably the only one who has spent all this time denying what Liz leaving again would do to me.
Rachel exchanges a look with Landon, and he rises to his feet. “I’m going to watch the kids and make sure they don’t get too close to the water.”
We both watch him walk toward the children and they race to him, screaming with joy as they launch their small bodies at him.
I’m silent for a while, just watching my brother and his kids. “It’s not just what she’s doing to me,” I say, my voice sober. “Look at what she’s doing to the play. People want to see her, not an unknown stand-in.” I sigh. “She’s selfish, just like she’s always been.”
Selfish.
Self-centered.
