by Logan Chance
She selects a smock and shrugs it on. “Nice seeing you,” she says, brushing past me.
I rush into the back room, handing off my key to Evie with a hug, and then I send a text to Charla.
Me: Help!!!!!
My phone rings.
“Talk,” she says as soon as I answer.
“Emergency girl session at your house.”
“What’s wrong? Do you need alcohol?”
Charla and I have a ranking system regarding the severity of our issues: sweets, pizza, or alcohol. Alcohol is the top tier, for the life changing problems.
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Yeah, vodka.”
“Oh damn,” she murmurs. “I’ll be ready.”
When I get to her townhome, she’s prepared. Madeline’s, a microwaved pizza for one, and a bottle of vodka are on her oak coffee table.
“You sounded like you might need all three.”
She pats the couch, and I slump down into the soft cushions. Poor Charla, in leggings and a psychedelic octopus t-shirt, listens as I spill everything.
When I’m done, she leans back and just says, “Wow.” She pours us both a shot and we knock it back. Then another. “Let me get my laptop,” she says, hopping up and hustling to the kitchen. “We need to investigate.” She hustles back and plops down beside me, propping her feet on the table.
Her fingers fly across the keyboard and she pulls up all the things I’ve avoided since reading Louanne’s post. She goes through article after article about ‘Harthan.’ Pictures of them together. Harley and Ethan having coffee. Standing close together at a party. Smiling at each other.
There’s nothing definitive about their relationship, but one thing is obvious, I’m still being portrayed as the third angle in a triangle. There are pictures of us at the premiere, pictures I didn’t realize were being taken. There’s a god awful ‘This or That’ post of us in our dresses. I’m pleased to say, I’m winning.
It’s silly, really. That’s not even the issue, for me. It’s the vile things they say. Like... basic. They don’t even know me.
Oh well, it’s nothing a little vodka won’t cure.
Chapter 27
Ethan
“Last chance. I can have you on a flight back to LA before anyone knows you’re missing,” I say to my father outside of the Pity Bar where we decided to meet for a drink.
He laughs. “No cold feet here.”
“Ok, just checking.”
“I’m happy, Ethan,” he assures me, clasping a hand on my shoulder, “which is what I hope for you someday.”
“Working on it.”
The crow’s feet around his eyes deepen when he smiles. “Are you really?”
“Sure, but I’m not desperate about it. I just live each day one at a time.”
“That’s all anyone can do.”
We secure a seat at the bar, and the bartender slides a bourbon neat for Dad and a Stella for me. I love that everyone knows what I like to drink already.
The bar turns into a frenzy of hushed whispers, with all heads turning toward the door.
A glance over my shoulder has me nearly choking on my beer. Harley Morgan. She steps closer, zeroing her eyes right on me.
I shift in my seat. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Her eyebrows raise. “Didn’t Vickie tell you we were coming into town?”
I take a pull from my beer, eyeing my dad before returning my attention on her. “No, no one’s called.”
She leans against the bar. “Well, surprise. I’m your date for the wedding.”
“I’m Patrick Hale,” my dad cuts in when he undoubtedly sees the look of rage creeping up my face. “I’m Ethan’s dad. I’ve heard about you.”
“Hope it’s all good things.” She gives my father her Hollywood smile and a wink. She’s so plastic it makes me ill.
“Who invited you?” I ask with zero tact.
She blinks a few times. “Vickie, silly.”
“I need to make a call.” I step away from the two of them, all the way outside, into the alley. “I think you have some explains to do,” I bark into the phone as soon as Vickie answers.
“Calm down. I felt…”
I cut in, “I don’t care what you feel.” I take a few deep breaths.
“I know it’s not ideal, but the studio thinks this Nova business needs to be squashed.”
“I’m not going to pretend.”
“America loves Harthan,” she pauses, “and I think it would be a huge favor to the studio if they saw Harley on your arm.”
I disconnect the call. Same argument, different day.
I’m not sure what America’s fascination is with Harley and I. It all started with that first photo. A small shot of Harley and I taken a million months ago when we were filming End Of Us. It was intimate...but it really wasn’t. It only appeared intimate from someone who wasn’t there to see what was going on.
Late after filming one day, she asked me to walk her to her car, and I leaned in to open her door, but from the angle of the shot, it looked like I was leaning in for something else.
That picture went viral and sparked the interest of a few entertainment bloggers who wanted Harley and Ethan to become a thing. Harthan.
Come on, even if I was in a relationship with someone, I still want my own identity. I don’t want to be fused with my partner into a one named power couple. It’s all part of tinsel town, and I have no desire of that happening by playing along.
But, the gossip kept coming. Inside sources saying we were dating, pictures of us on set together. I’ve been fighting with Vickie about the stories since they first started, but the studio is convinced it’s good for ticket sales. And as much as I fight and say no, it just all seems to keep crashing back into this mega couple that I don’t want any part of.
That’s why I came to Montana, to get away from the stress of it all. And now they’re here.
And, fuck, Nova. I send her a text. She doesn’t answer.
Dad and I leave the bar and spend the rest of the night on his back deck before I venture to the hotel where the reception will be held after the wedding. Nova doesn’t answer any of my texts. And I don’t know how I feel about that. She doesn’t know yet, does she? Who am I kidding? Girls always find things out before you can explain.
The next morning, before the wedding, my mood is as dark as my Brioni black tux. My sole mission is to get to the church to explain to Nova why Harley is here before she sees her.
Chapter 28
Nova
I have such a hangover. Me and vodka do not mix. At some point last night, I passed out cold at Charla’s and then woke up at dawn to rush home to get dressed, and then rush over to the hotel for Mom to make sure the reception room was ready. It’s ready all right. The reception room is a jungle of dahlias of every kind. Dahlia Tubers, Prince Charming’s, and Border Choice’s adorn each table. It looks like a fairytale.
I’m sure Ethan is going to look like a prince in his tuxedo. With Harley as his princess. I leave the hotel and make it to the church with ten minutes to spare.
“Mom,” I say, when I enter the bridal suite in a backroom of the chapel, “you look gorgeous.”
She smiles and wraps her arms around me, before I take a seat for Charla to pin a passion dahlia in my updo.
“Five minutes,” the wedding planner says, peeking her head into the back room. “Oh, and Nova there’s someone out here who wants to see you. Ethan Hale.” She smiles wide, like starstruck wide, and I’m already up and heading to the door.
When I step into the hallway and see him, my breath gets sucked from my lungs at the sight of him in a tuxedo. His eyes are so blue. The black tux clings to his broad shoulders and I’m almost envious that it gets to feel what’s underneath. I put up a wall to protect me from his voodoo.
“I need to talk to you.” He takes my arm to lead me a
way from the planner’s prying ears.
“To tell me about you and Harley? About Harthan?”
He takes a deep breath, and I can’t stop how I watch the muscles of his chest rise and fall underneath his stark white shirt. “It’s all a lie.”
My wall cracks. “What is?”
“It’s all publicity the studio wants.” His pleading stare bangs on the wall I have erected around my heart. He begs for me to lower it, he bangs harder when he reaches for my cheek.
The walls crumble. I’m clearly a horrible builder. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know they were sending her here.”
“Ah,” I say.
“Nova, I don’t say this many times in my life, but I’m sorry.” He steps closer. “I’m sorry for coming here and being mean to you at first. I’m sorry for kissing you when you kept telling me not to. I’m sorry that I have all these feelings in my chest that I don’t know what to do about. And I’m sorry about all the press. We’ll figure it out.”
My heart squeezes in my chest. He wraps an arm around my waist, brushing his lips against mine.
“The wedding’s about to start,” I say, breaking the kiss.
He backs away, and I rush into the room with my mother and the other bridesmaids.
My heart rages with all the madness going on. Ethan’s confession. The job.
I take a deep breath and put on a happy face. Let’s just get through today and tomorrow I can deal with everything else.
The music starts Canon in D Minor, and my eyes meet Ethan’s as we enter the waiting area to enter the chapel.
When it’s time for Ethan and I, I place my hand in the crook of his arm.
“You look beautiful,” he whispers.
“So do you,” I whisper back.
“I don’t think men are supposed to look beautiful,” he says.
“Well, you said you’re no ordinary man,” I whisper, looking up at him.
His hooded eyes hold mine, and then we walk down the aisle to become related.
The wedding goes off without a hitch, except the hitching of my mother and Patrick Hale, of course.
And as soon as they are announced husband and wife, a sense of dread creeps up my spine.
The photographer snaps photo after photo of the new ‘family.’
Let the party begin.
After the toasts and formalities of the party are underway, there is a cake catastrophe. As in— it’s not on the table.
“It’s fine,” I reassure Mom. “I’ll go check.”
I find Mary in the hotel kitchen on her way out.
“Sorry,” she apologizes, “there was a slight accident that had to be fixed.”
“No worries,” I tell her, smiling.
I step out of her way, next to the entry, and spy Ethan walking toward someone. A woman, wearing a gold pantsuit that looks like an extension of the carpet under her heels, stops him. It takes me a minute to recognize her flaming hair from television—his agent, Vickie something or other.
“You clean up nice,” she says.
“I’m not really sure why you came all the way here, Vickie.”
“Listen, I didn’t make America’s rules, I just abide by them. This girl is bringing a lot of negative press. The studio is not happy about this.”
I step back in the kitchen and to the side of the entry.
“I’ll send them flowers,” he answers.
“There’s hundreds of other guys out there the studio can make people fall in love with. You’re going to piss them off and lose a chance at a franchise?”
“I didn’t sign up for this.” His voice is ice. “I signed up to act on set, not act in my personal life. I think America would understand.”
“It’s more than that, Ethan,” she continues. “Samuel Davis is very conservative, and he will not take on someone who is plastered on every gossip magazine with his stepsister. Are you willing to give up your chance for that role over someone you just met?”
Say no, I silently plead.
“Yes.”
“Come on, Ethan. I know how bad you want this role.” I close my eyes, fighting back the tears. “You’re going to lose it because of her.”
“Yeah well, I’ll survive.”
“I think you really need to think about your future.”
“And I think it’s really time for new representation.”
From my vantage point, I see him stalk away, anger driving his strides. Right now, hidden in a corner of the kitchen, I realize I love him. Because, there's no way in hell I’ll let him throw away his career for me. I swipe away a tear and look over to see Vickie leaned against the entryway, arms crossed.
“I see the way you look at each other,” she says, “and it just can’t happen between you two.” I don’t need her telling me what I already know. I move around her to leave, and she puts a hand on my arm. “This won’t be good for his career. The media is already going on about it.”
“Yeah, I know.”
And I do.
I was kidding myself to ever believe Ethan and I could be anything more than just step siblings. A love like the one I’d envisioned just isn’t in the cards for us. All the sightings and phone calls, I don’t want to be the reason he gets bad press.
“Name your price to go away,” she says.
Ew. I brush her hand off as if she’ll contaminate me. “I’m not for sale,” I bite out. “Sometimes, we do things for the people we love because we love them.”
Tears cloud my vision as I walk away. I may not be vile like her, but I am selfish. I want one more night. One more amazing night with Ethan before I do the right thing. Before I give him up. Before I move to Seattle and begin my new life. Without him.
People dance, chatter, laugh, enjoying the happy couple’s event, not knowing my sadness when I re-enter the reception ballroom. I swipe a flute of champagne from a passing server and beeline for Charla at the cake table.
The rest of the night, Ethan watches me from his post against the far wall, his blue eyes blazing into mine. His teeth raking his lower lip. His brows knit together. His arms crossed as he avoids everyone at the party, including me.
I know he's just waiting the party out. And so am I. Because there’s no stopping me tonight from feeling him once more.
Chapter 29
Ethan
I bide my time, waiting for the reception to end.
I sent Harley back to her hotel. She didn’t want to be here anymore than I wanted her here.
My mind’s numb as I watch the festivities take place. Cake cutting, first dances, toasts. I made my toast and congratulated my father on finding Dahlia when he needed her most. All b.s. if you ask me.
But it’s their day; no sense ruining it with my own drama.
After we send my father and Nova’s mother off on their honeymoon, and the crowd starts to dwindle, I catch up with Nova clearing off a few of the centerpieces.
“Great party, huh?” she asks.
“The best.” I move closer as the cleanup crew clears the glassware away. “You ok?”
Her eyes stare straight through me. “The best.”
I grab a napkin off the table with the happy couple’s name written in purple. “Can you believe they’re married?”
I’m actually nervous being here with her. I want to swoop her away to somewhere private.
“I know.”
Her mood is somber, like she just attended a funeral and not a wedding, and I want more than anything to light the fire back in her eyes. “Let’s get out of here,” I urge, hoping she takes me up on my offer.
She answers, barely audible, with a single ‘ok.’
I do a quick check to make sure we’re alone, and we leave separately.
“We shouldn’t really be seen together,” she says, when we meet back up at her car.
She’s right. We shouldn’t. Life is all so complicated.
“Take me to my motorcycle. I’ll be sure to be seen by the paparazzi, and then in an
hour pick me up in the alleyway of the hotel, ok?”
She smiles. “Ok, I’ll be there.”
Our plan goes off smoothly, and an hour later, she’s there, waiting for me.
I slide into her car, not saying a word. She doesn’t talk either. I think the both of us know what the future of tonight holds for us.
But, as far as the future of us, I want to move to Seattle with her, see where these feelings take us. See if there’s a chance for us to make a real go of something. Fuck the press and what the media thinks. I want her.
She pulls into her drive and turns off the engine.
“You’re all hidden now. No one knows you’re here,” she says, and I move in, kissing her with all the emotions tamped down inside me.
In a tangle of flying clothes, we move to her bedroom.
And then we’re together, just her and me.
Nova waiting for me, sprawled on the bed, calling to me like a siren.
I kiss her, rough. She handles my kisses, and gives everything back in return, moaning with urgency. I want this to last all night. I want to feel her until the sun comes up. And in the morning, I want her to be mine.
I spread her legs, exploring the silk of her legs with my fingers, to the bend of her knee, and even higher still, and then lower my lips to suck her sweet wetness into my mouth. She tastes like a dream, and I push my tongue all the way inside her.
“Ethan...ahh.”
Desire, and something more, runs straight through me. I circle her clit with my tongue, nibbling along the contours of her skin. She’s so hot.
Her legs wrap around me, and my hands move to her ass, gripping her tight.
“I’m going to come,” she pants. “Don’t stop.”
There’s no way in hell I’m stopping. I keep going until the minute she lets loose and unravels all around me.
Her legs relax, and I place a kiss on her pussy, her hips, her stomach, up her body, circling my tongue around each nipple before making my way to her luscious mouth.
“Fuck, you make it all worth it.” I move in and take her tongue in my mouth, sucking it between my teeth.
