The Feeling of Forever

by Jamie Howard

  “Well, it’s hard to argue with that kind of logic.”

  “I’m always right. You’ll learn.” He scooped up a slice. “Want one?”

  I hadn’t had a bite to eat since breakfast, but I didn’t think I could stomach a thing. Let alone one of Gavin’s I’ve covered the entire food pyramid slices. “No, thank you.”

  “Suit yourself.” He folded the pizza in half and took one mammoth-sized bite. After he’d swallowed, he gestured toward my bag. “You staying for a bit?”

  “Is he mad about this afternoon? Me running out like that?”

  “Curious. Confused. Mad? Not so much.”

  I sunk my teeth into my lower lip. “Do you think . . . no, forget it.”

  Gavin arched an eyebrow at me, the thin metal bar that bisected it winking in the light. “Don’t leave me hanging, sweetheart.”

  I grimaced. “Felix and I haven’t been seeing each other that long, and I’m just wondering if me showing up here unannounced with a bag is going to completely flip him out.” I flexed my fingers against my thighs. “I’m not asking to move in or anything, I only need a place to crash for a few days.” My voice caught, the beginning prickles of tears stinging my eyes. “I wouldn’t ask, but there’s this guy and . . .” The whole story poured out, start to finish—those first seemingly harmless letters, the escalating threats, that night when it all came crashing down and he cornered me in my dressing room, a knife in his hand and a fake ID hanging around his neck, all the way up until now and how everything was starting to fall apart again. I amazed myself by fighting back the tears, by managing to tell the whole thing without breaking down. Gavin just sat there and listened, his jaw tightening with every new twist I revealed in the story. When I finally got around to what happened today, he cursed under his breath.

  “Fuck, Jules.” He scraped a hand over his face. “Does Felix know all of this?”

  “A lot of it.” A ball of guilt lodged in my chest. “Not what happened today. I didn’t think it was something he should hear over the phone.”

  A warm weight landed on my knee—Gavin’s hand. “I don’t give a shit what Felix thinks, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want. But for the record, you showing up here like this? He’s not gonna be anything but happy that you came here.”

  The door slammed shut, and both our gazes snapped up to find a very still Felix sitting in the entryway. His eyes narrowed to slits, his nostrils flaring as his eyes dipped from our faces to where Gavin’s hand was still sitting on my leg.

  Okay, from his perspective this didn’t look great, but I didn’t even care. The rush of relief that washed through me at seeing him was so powerful, it drowned out absolutely everything else. I was on my feet in a second, across the room in three, and before he even knew what hit him, I was curled up in his lap, my arms wrapped around his neck, my face buried against him.

  My legs dangled off the edge and the armrest dug into my back. It was far from comfortable, but as Felix’s arms settled around me, one hand rubbing small circles against my hip, the other grazing my cheek, it was the only place in the entire world I wanted to be.

  Chapter 14: Felix

  It didn’t matter how deeply I breathed, I still couldn’t get enough air to satisfy my lungs. My chest felt like the entire weight of the world was sitting on it and I was powerless to stop it from crushing me. I’d never felt so helpless in my entire life.

  I stroked my fingers over Juliet’s hair, keeping her back tucked tight against my chest. Even then she didn’t feel close enough, so I dipped my chin lower so that it was resting on her shoulder.

  She’d told me everything. Everything. Every word that spilled from her mouth was like a shard of glass digging its way underneath my skin, and every tear that silently slipped from the corner of her eye tied me up in knots. The thought that this piece of shit had touched her, had his hands on her, filled me with more rage than I knew what to do with. It curled in my stomach and festered there.

  She pulled her knees tighter against her chest. “Tell me something good. Anything. I can’t think about this for another second.”

  I ran my hand down her arm, over the thick bulky fabric of her sweatshirt. “The band is going on tour.”

  “What?” She flipped over, the entire bed bouncing from the force of it. “When did this happen? When are you leaving? Where are you going?”

  I looked down at her smiling face and my heart did this funny thing—it stuttered and squeezed, beating faster and louder. Maybe it was too soon, but it didn’t seem to matter. Every second I spent with Juliet dragged me a little deeper.

  “That is a lot of questions.”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “Okay, well, pick one and start there. And when you’re done move on to the next one.”

  I propped my head up on my hand. “All right, let’s see, we made the decision today. We head out in January, just a quick four-stop—San Fran, Chicago, DC, and New York.”

  “Still, that’s amazing.” She locked her fingers around the base of my neck. “I’m so happy for you.” Her lips pressed against mine in what, in my opinion, was way too short of a kiss.

  “Well, you inspired me to do it.”

  “Shut up.” She kissed me again, lingering a little longer this time. “You’re just saying that.”

  “Am not.” I shook my head. “You put the idea in my head in the first place.” I skimmed my hand down her side, letting my thumb tap against the small sliver of skin between her sweatshirt and her pants. “Will you come to the New York show?”

  “I wish I could, but”—she sighed—“we’re doing our premiere tour in January and I’m not sure I’ll be here.” One finger tapped me in the center of my chest. “Let me know when you have a date, and I’ll see if there’s anything I can do to be there.”

  I threaded my fingers through hers, my spirits sinking. “So I won’t see you at all in January.”

  Her mouth twisted to the side and she shoved herself up so she was sitting next to me, all that gorgeous hair falling over her shoulder in golden waves. “I guess this is the part where we compare schedules and you find out that being with me is a lot of work and very little payoff.”

  I folded my hands behind my head and smiled at her. “I hope you don’t think you’re the only one with a busy schedule.”

  “Yeah, but this?” She waved a finger between the two of us. “Is exactly why things didn’t work out with my ex.”

  “And which ex would that be?” I cocked an eyebrow at her. I had zero clue about her dating history, never bothered picking up those gossip rags that hung out at the checkout lines of grocery stores.

  “My last ex, Erik Hellstrom.”

  “Should I know that name?”

  “He’s a center for the LA Kings.”

  “What’s that, basketball?” I knew damn well it was hockey. Of course she couldn’t have dated some pretty boy actor, nope, she’d gone with an athlete. In my head I pretended he was missing teeth. His two front teeth, to be exact.

  “Hockey.”

  I lifted one shoulder in an unconcerned shrug. “I’m more of a football guy myself.”

  Her gaze slid down my chest, the corner of her mouth tipping up. “You don’t say.” That impish expression stayed on her face for about, oh, twenty seconds before she remembered the conversation we were having and her lips slumped back into a frown. “Hold on, if we’re going to hammer out schedules, I need my phone.”

  “Jules, we don’t have to do this now. I mean with everything going on—”

  She pinned my lips shut with her finger. “Don’t.” She shook her head. “I know I’m deflecting, and trust me, there’s a back corner of my mind that is racing thinking about—” She blew out a breath. “This I can do. I can talk schedules and make plans and focus on the future.”

  Her feet slapped against the floor as she made her way over to her bag. She was back a minute later, phone in hand, the screen highlighting the planes of her face. “Okay, so I’m here until Wednesday
, and then I’m headed home to Connecticut for Thanksgiving.”

  “We always do Thanksgiving at Ben and Ian’s house, with their mom upstate.” I scratched a hand through my hair, weaving the strands between my fingers. “We’re there through the weekend if you want to swing by.”

  “Hmmm.” She ran a finger over her lips, staring intently at her phone. “I could drive down Friday morning and stay until Sunday. Is that good?”

  “Not good, great.” I rearranged my pillows so I could sit and lean back against the headboard. I patted the empty spot next to me. “C’mere.”

  Juliet settled herself into the empty spot, her head dropping immediately against my shoulder. I tried not to wince as I got my first look at her calendar. She pulled up December and the whole thing was a giant mass of color—greens, yellows, blues, purples.

  Thin lines spread from the corners of her eyes as she squinted at the screen. “December’s kind of a mess since I’ve been putting everything off this month. I’ve got that commercial I’m shooting for Maybelline, oh and then I’ve got Jimmy Fallon—” Her foot bounced incessantly as she continued to mumble. I only caught random snippets of what she had going on.

  She glanced up at me. “How about New Year’s? Have plans yet?”

  I dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Now I do.”

  “Okay, we can figure out what we’re doing later, but for now . . .” Her thumbs tapped across the screen and a brand new color shaded across the last day in December.

  “Aw, did I just get my own color, babe?”

  “Trust me, by the time it hits mid-December I’m going to be staring longingly at this color. It’s the only one I’m going to look forward to.” She swiped across the screen again and a heavily colored January popped up. “The first three weeks in January are packed—screenings, premieres.” Her fingers hovered over the last week. “I’m probably going to have an audition sometime in here back in LA, but I haven’t nailed down a date yet.”

  “We haven’t nailed down tour dates either.”

  Together, we stared down at that depressing piece of calendar, not one flash of my color in sight. Even though I refused to say it out loud, all this travel, the hotels, the crowds—all of it teased out a thread of panic inside me. Every second this guy was out there, every minute he wasn’t behind bars, was one more sliver of time where Juliet was in danger. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

  I hugged her a little tighter to me. “We’ll make it work.” But a small part of me, the pessimistic part that’d been torturing me for months, wondered how we ever would.

  Chapter 15: Juliet

  It wasn’t the sun that woke me, but the cold. My toes were ice cubes and goosebumps skated across my bare legs. The small corner of gray comforter I’d managed to hold onto barely wrapped around my shoulder. Glaring, I rolled over to find a happily snoring Felix doing his best Vitruvian Man impression—arms spread as far as they would go, his body sprawled out across the mattress.

  The comforter was draped over him, from neck to toes, and the bastard even had the nerve to take over half my pillow with his carelessly thrown hand. His face was tilted toward me, a light coating of stubble shading his jaw. His lips puckered out a little every time he blew out a breath. And even though I wanted to be annoyed at him for being such an awful bed hog, it was ridiculously adorable.

  Gently, I wrapped my fingers around the thick, cushy bedding and pulled it down, exposing inch after inch of golden skin and thick, curving muscles. I kept my eyes trained on his face, catching the frown that darted across it, the way his eyebrows twitched together, as the cool air caressed his skin.

  I bit my lip as I crept across the bed, trying my best not to jostle him awake. I didn’t stop until I was kneeling between his legs, my hands planted on either side of him. Sometimes I forgot how big he was; it was hard to remember how much space he consumed when he was sitting. But with his fingertips brushing the headboard and his toes inches from the end of the mattress, it was all too easy to see there was absolutely nothing small about him. My gaze dropped a little lower, rolling over the small hills of his abs and settling right between his legs. A wicked smile curled my lips. Like I said, nothing small about him.

  My T-shirt inched up the back of my thighs as I leaned forward, slowly running my tongue over the curve of his hip and punctuating it with the scrape of my teeth. His chest expanded on a heavy breath, his shoulders rustling against the pillows, but he didn’t wake up.

  So I kept up my mischievous plan, taking the slow path to the edge of his boxer briefs, right where a trail of pale blond hair disappeared beneath it. I ran one fingernail along the waistband, then used it to pry the fabric back. All it took was one lick, one deliberately slow swipe of my tongue to make those eyelids flutter open. His eyes met mine, hazy with sleep, cloudy with dreams.

  I watched him watch me as I wrapped my fingers around him, stroking up then down, brushing the pad of my thumb across the tip. His stomach contracted on a harsh inhalation, his abs tightening as I took him in my mouth, sucking him down as far as I could, then lazily working my way back up.

  I jacked him leisurely, lifting my mouth from him just enough to say, “You stole all the blankets.”

  “Is this supposed to be my punishment?” He propped himself up on his elbows, pinning his thick lower lip between his teeth. “Mmm, punish me some more.”

  “Like this?”

  I gave him my A game, teasing him with my tongue, teeth, and fingers until he was nothing more than a writhing, panting mess underneath me. His fingers tangled in my hair, alternately tugging and gently coaxing my head back down. The words that tumbled from his mouth were a mess of oh fuck, don’t stop, and just like that.

  Finally, he changed it up on me. “Shit, babe.” His thumb circled around my lips, brushing against where he was still sliding in and out of my mouth. “If you don’t stop you’re gonna make me come.”

  My words vibrated against him. “Isn’t that the point?”

  In a move so quick I didn’t see it coming, he sat up, wrapped his hands around my thighs, and yanked me forward so that I tumbled onto his chest. His teeth sunk into my earlobe. “The only place I’m coming this time is inside you.”

  It was my turn to moan as he inched my underwear aside and sunk a finger into me. His words were nothing but a hoarse growl as he tormented my neck with his lips. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”

  My only response was to arch my back. I rocked myself against his finger, my entire body aching for more. He rewarded me by adding another, his other hand sneaking underneath my T-shirt to cup my breast, rolling my already hard nipple between his fingertips.

  I captured his mouth as he unraveled me with the best form of torture known to man. But I wanted more. I wanted him. Now.

  My chest was heaving as I came up for some much needed air. “Condom?”

  His hands wrapped around my ribcage, urging me farther up and then down so that his lips could draw my nipple into his mouth. I braced a hand against the headboard to keep myself from melting into a giant puddle on his face.

  He released me with a pop, only pausing long enough to say, “Top drawer,” before moving on to my other breast.

  My knees were a wobbly, liquefied mess by the time I managed to stumble off the bed to rifle through his bedside drawer. On my way back I shed my shirt and underwear, dropping them on the floor. Impatiently, I ripped the condom open and rolled it down him, not wasting any time getting back into position.

  There were simultaneous sighs of relief as I sank down on him, not stopping until he was buried inside me. God, I needed this—the mindlessness, the release. With Felix underneath me, inside me, every single one of my senses was trained on him and only him.

  Beneath my palm, his heart beat out a rapid rhythm, like a tiny drum was trapped inside his chest. His grip tightened around my hips, holding me there, and I let myself get wrapped up in the moment, in the way his hands felt on my skin, the way his face seemed overrun by
more emotions than I could possibly name.

  I began to ride him, slowly at first, prolonging the moment both of us were speeding toward like a car set on a collision course. But my body needed more, demanded it. His biceps flexed as he sped my movements, hot breaths and breathy moans cascading from both our mouths till the room was filled with their echoes.

  I tipped back my head, the tips of my long hair brushing my back. “Yes. Right there.”

  My breath caught as everything curled into a tight ball inside me—knots twisted in snarls and tangles until with one last thrust everything came apart and so did I. His hands kept up my rhythm when my body stopped working, when my muscles quit and I slumped forward on his chest.

  His hot breath whispered over my sweat-slicked skin, then stopped entirely as his whole body trembled beneath me. He let out one last, guttural groan before his head flopped back on his pillow, his chest still rising rapidly.

  It took a minute for the world to come back into focus, for my heartbeat to slow to its regular pace. I eased myself up his body to take one more taste of his mouth, loving the way his lips were red and puffy from the way I’d been abusing them.

  When I pulled back, he was grinning at me. “What are you smiling about?”

  “I was just thinking.” He shook his head. “If this was my punishment for stealing the blankets . . . you’ve got some very cold nights ahead of you.”

  For the first time in I-can’t-remember-when, I spent the entire day in my pj’s. Other than quick bathroom breaks and pit stops in the kitchen for food, we didn’t leave Felix’s bed either. It was the most laidback, unproductive day in this history of my life.

  And it was glorious.

  I shoved Felix’s shoulder. “Roll over.”