By Your Side

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By Your Side Page 2

by Brenda Ford


  “Sure, you want to be hanging out with Bob, rather than Ashely.” I roll my eyes, trying to play this off. “I’m sure. You want to take a break from super stardom to come and spend some time with me.”

  He doesn’t answer me but there is a definite look of something hiding behind his eyes. I can’t read what he’s thinking, or perhaps I’m too scared to because it might mean something deeper than I can handle. I mean, there is no denying that there’s a sizzling chemistry between me and Lance, something that goes way beyond mere friendship. But unfortunately, that doesn’t make any difference. That can’t change anything.

  “Anyway, how are you?” Lance asks me, again changing the subject just as I need him to. “How is Millie Jones? Not just the customers at the bar. It’s been a couple of days since I’ve seen you.”

  “Yes, I had my day off yesterday.” I nod slowly, thinking about my long boring day doing chores and running errands, again a million miles away from Lance’s movie star existence. “And it was nice to relax. Of course, I missed you and all of my other bar hoppers, but it was nice to chill out.”

  I can see that Lance wants more from me, he always does, but I can’t give much away. I have to keep a distance between me and everyone, not just Lance, because of where I’ve come from, what I came to escape. It isn’t easy when I have such a connection with this man and I would love to be honest, but I made a vow to myself that I would keep to myself when I came to LA and that’s a promise I have to keep.

  “So, you know what I’m going to ask you now, don’t you?” Lance asks with a cheeky glint in his eye. “Because I am almost finished with my drink and I know that you must want to go home now…”

  “Do you have to ask me this every single day?” Luckily, I have perfected acting annoyed about this. “You know that my answer isn’t ever going to change so why don’t we just leave it at that? We could have a nice goodbye and leave it at that, don’t you think? Rather than going through the usual routine…”

  “I only keep asking you out on a date because I’m pretty sure that you want one with me.” He shrugs his shoulders and grins. “I can see you like the idea as much as I do. So, why not give me a chance? You don’t know what’s going to happen. It could be the best date that you have ever been in. You might love it.”

  He’s right, I know he is. I would love nothing more than to go out on a date with this man who I have so many feelings for, who affects me in so many ways, but I can’t. I have to remain strong because I can’t.

  “It could also run our friendship,” I remind him. “And make things awkward between us.”

  “It won’t and you know it,” he teases. “Me and you are both too chilled out for that.”

  I rest my hands on my hips and stare defiantly at him. “It can’t be chilled out though, can it? You are Lance Wilson, and everyone is interested in your love life. I don’t want to be in the newspapers.”

  This is half an excuse and half the truth. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to have their lives torn apart by the media, it would be awful. I’m sure that Lance doesn’t like it either, but it’s one of those unavoidable negative side effects of his career choice. No job is perfect, and that’s the down side of his. But he chose it and I don’t want it. I didn’t run away to LA just to put myself in the firing line of attention.

  “We could just date in secret.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “No one has to know.”

  Much as I love the idea of that, I can’t be tempted. I have to be sensible. I curl my fists up by my side and shake my head again. Whether I want to or not, this is the answer that I have to give. “You know that can’t happen, Lance. I have told you lots of times that I can’t go on a date with you because of your fame. I will have to continue on being your bar tender and you my customer. That’s the way that it has to be.”

  After a few moments, Lance holds up his hands in surrendering. “Fine, okay, whatever you want.” But the smile remains on his face. I can tell this isn’t the last time that he will ask. “No date for us.”

  Chapter 3 – Lance

  Millie wants to go out with me too, I can feel it, that’s why I don’t give up. That’s why I ask her out on a date every single time I see her. I’m hoping that one day she will crack and agree to be with me. I get that my fame is a bit of an issue, it must be really daunting for someone who doesn’t seek a life in the public eye, but it doesn’t need to be that way. Me and Millie have kept our friendship a secret so why couldn’t we keep a relationship private as well? I’m sure that if we both worked at it, it would be fine. Hollywood is filled with secret relationships. People know well how to keep things hidden from the media, so I can as well.

  It will be worth it anyway, which I know that Millie will see as soon as she gives me a chance. One date is all that it will take for her to understand how incredible me and her can have it if we just cave to that intense chemistry zinging and zipping through us. I know it which is why I won’t give up.

  “Right, well I better get cleaned up.” Millie smiles thinly at me. “I’m kicking you out once more.”

  I cock an eyebrow at her. “You are always trying to get rid of me. Honestly, I should be offended.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She hits me playfully in the arm, shooting electricity all the way through my body. “It doesn’t offend you enough to keep you away though. You’ll be back, I know it.”

  “Oh, for sure.” I rise up from my bar stool and pretend to tip an imaginary hat at her. “You’re working tomorrow, am I right? You have already had your day off this week?”

  “Yep, I will be here tomorrow. Same time as today, so I’m sure I will see you then.”

  We share a look. An intense look which speaks volumes. Everything that me and Millie can’t say aloud becomes spoken through our eyes. I can see how little she wants me to give up, she’s happy for me to continue chasing her, which only confirms what I already know. It might take a while for us to get there, but we will. We’ll find our happy ever after together and it’s going to be amazing, I’m sure of it.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” Millie shakes her head, just as I knew she would because she always does. “Right, well I suppose I will have to wait until tomorrow to see you then.”

  “Yes, you will.” She salutes me and laughs. “Have a good day filming tomorrow, Lance. Good luck.”

  “Sure, and good luck with the bar hoppers tomorrow. I hope that they don’t give you too much trouble before I arrive.” I grin as I reach the door. “I wish you a drama free day with The Scarlet Lounge drunks.”

  There’s a brand-new lightness to my steps as I let the door close behind me and I start the short walk home. There is always something rejuvenating about spending time with Millie. Even when I am most exhausted, I feel better after chatting with her. Even when she refuses to go on dates with me, I love being with her.

  “She is perfect,” I whisper smilingly to myself. “Millie Jones is incredible.”

  I have had girlfriends before, no one in LA, but in my home town before I left to start my new life. I dated in high school, even for seven months at one point which might as well have been a life time back then, but I never felt anything for them like I do Millie. I never felt that sizzling connection, that intense chemistry, I also didn’t feel like I could fully be myself, that I could share who I am like I do with Millie. She just has this wonderful way of making me feel happy about who I am, of making me feel comfortable with talking about anything.

  Sure, she may well be a little more closed off with me than I am her, but that’s okay. I think she just needs time, that’s all, and while I feel like she’s getting closer to me, I am willing to wait.

  It isn’t long before I’m digging my keys out of my jacket pocket and I head inside to my house. My beautiful Los Angeles own house which I bought right away with my very first pay check. Owning somewhere to live was always going to be my first priority before anything else because I like that security. I’m just so grateful now
that I picked my house because it’s put me close enough to get to know Millie and The Scarlet Lounge. It’s like fate, isn’t it? Some outer force bringing us together because we are meant to be.

  God, maybe I have starred in too many romantic movies which is why I’m now believing in destiny and ‘the one’. I wasn’t ever like that before, but meeting Millie has changed me dramatically. In every single way.

  I let out a sigh as soon as I step inside and I smile to myself once more, the memory of my last conversation with Millie still playing on my mind. The lilt of her voice, her lovely musical laugh, her sweet words… I adore every single thing about her. I would love more time with her. Actually, it would be awesome if she would come back here with me one night so I could show her my world, let her see more of me. She would then understand that I don’t live a lavish movie star life, that I’m actually pretty reserved and not flashy at all. I never entered the industry to become this guy with everything and I think it might change things if she saw that.

  But today isn’t the day anyway. Today, she is heading to her home and I’m here. I just have to be glad that I got to see her. I have the memory of her to keep me going as I trudge up the stairs to the shower.

  I strip my clothing down quickly as the jets of water heat up for me and I step inside to clean myself down. Immediately, my muscles start to relax and a sense of calm over comes me as the water rushes over me and causes the day to cascade off of me. The dramas from work all vanish and I lose myself in what makes me happy…

  Millie Jones. Of course, it’s her. There isn’t anyone else that I would even consider as I slide in to my happy place. It’s always Millie Jones and her flame red hair, her sweet eyes, her lovely smile, her beautiful lips…

  Immediately my cock springs to attention, almost as if she’s here in the shower with me. I stiffen and my body screams out for attention as I imagine Millie’s hands starting to expertly explore my body as her lips come to meet mine for the very first time. The anticipation shoots through me, I can hardly wait for her to connect with me at last, even if it is only happening inside of my head. I have craved this for far too long…

  “Oh shit.” As my imagination gets the better of me, I slide my eyes closed so that I can bring the fantasy to life by almost feeling her. I’m so used to thinking about Millie in this way now so it’s easy for her to pretty much be here with me, touching and stroking my shaft instead of me. “Millie Jones, you are beautiful.”

  Her lips connect with mine as she strokes my cock between her delicate fingers. The chemistry between us fizzes and buzzes, almost dragging me to the edge of oblivion already. I imagine her whispering sexy, sultry flirting words in to my ear as the water splashes all over us, consuming us in waves of bliss. She picks up the pace as she can sense my whole-body trembling, the Millie in my mind knows exactly what to do with me.

  “I want you,” I growl out loud. “I want you so bad, Millie. I have wanted you since I first saw you.”

  God, I remember that day well. The day that I walked in to The Scarlet Lounge, a place where I had only been a couple of times before, to see her angelic face behind the bar. The air stripped from my lungs, the ground fell away from underneath my feet, my whole life changed in that instant. I just knew. I never considered ‘love at first sight’ a thing before I saw Millie, but that’s exactly what I experienced as our eyes connected.

  I see those eyes of hers now, but she isn’t eye level with me. She’s on her knees in the shower and she has my cock buried in her mouth. She’s driving me wild with the wet heat between her lips, I can hardly contain myself, but before I make a mess of this shower by coming everywhere, I want to be inside of her.

  “Fuck me, Millie.” My tone is commanding, like I’m dominating the situation. “Fuck me now.”

  She’s in front of me with her hands pressed against the shower wall, her pals splayed over the soaking wet tiles, with her ass poking out towards me. She flicks her hair over her shoulder and smirks at me, inviting me inside. She is sexy as hell, like a freaking porn star or something, and I need to be inside of her now.

  The next moment, my imagination has me buried deep inside of her. I’m too much of a shuddering mess to consider teasing either of us right now. I need to fuck her and fuck her hard. God, I hope that I can control myself more when we finally end up in bed together, if she ever lets me, because I am primal right now. I’m an animal, uncontrollable, lost in lust and sensations, needing more, always more, everything that she can give me.

  “Oh, Millie, Millie…” I call out her name like it’s a prayer as the pressure of pleasure builds up inside of me. “Millie Jones, I fucking love you. Millie, I want to be with you. I want to be with you, Millie…”

  Eventually, I explode like a freaking volcano. With Millie’s core wrapped around me in my mind, I erupt like crazy, a guttural cry coming from me at the same time. I am in fucking heaven right now, the pleasure washes over me in an endless stream of waves. Picturing Millie always intensifies the pleasure. It’s wild. Especially because I just know that the reality of actually being with her would be even better. I can just tell that Millie will work my body until I don’t know who I am anymore, until I’m a juddering mess because of her. She will have complete control over me, and I will happily let her because of everything that I want and more.

  If me and Millie end up together, then I truly will have it all. The career of my dreams, the job that I have always wanted in the city that I love, the weather and heat that I adore, and the woman I love as well. That would be incredible, wouldn’t it? I don’t know if I can get any luckier than I already am, I probably shouldn’t ask for more, but if I could get her… well, my life would be complete. I would have it all. I can just see my future with Millie in it now and it honestly looks amazing. It’s a goal that I would love nothing more than to attain.

  Hey, I have always achieved my goals before, so why not now? What’s stopping me from trying?

  Chapter 4 – Millie

  “God, he’s beautiful,” I mutter to myself over my morning cup of coffee. “He is a freaking God.”

  I have a secret guilty pleasure that I would never confess to anyone, least of all Lance because it’s totally embarrassing, but I love watching the movies that he has been in. ever since I first learned who he was, I headed out to get the DVD’s so I could watch him and see what kind of actor he was. I didn’t expect to love his films so much and I certainly didn’t expect to spend half of my life watching him on my TV screen. Yet here I am, doing just like, acting like a fan girl who can’t get enough of the big Hollywood star.

  The man who’s on my screen doesn’t feel directly connected to the man I know in the bar. He’s a good enough actor for me to fall for who he is in his movies, which makes me feel les awkward about watching him… but I still know that it would be super weird if Lance found out that I do this.

  “He would tease me forever,” I declare to myself as I chew on my oat meal. “I would never hear the end of this. He already assumes that I’m in love with him and this would just confirm it…”

  God, am I in love with him? A year and a half is plenty of time to fall in love with someone, even if it’s just a friend who I hang out with most days for a while, but I don’t know if it can be love when we haven’t even kissed yet. Perhaps what I’m experiencing is some kind of friendship love instead…

  Then again, I don’t exactly have the best experience with love, do I? I don’t have the best track record of falling for the right guys which is why I’m here in the first place. I can’t exactly trust my own judgements when it comes to guys so this whole thing with Lance is probably nothing at all. I mean, he’s my only friend here in LA, I haven’t gotten to know anyone else, which I’m sure intensifies everything. It doesn’t help that he asks me out on a date all the time. He probably has me all twisted up in knots, that’s all. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  I shove my mug and bowl on to my coffee table as a wave of uncomfortable dizzying heat over
comes me. I grow distracted from the movie playing out on my TV as I grab the nearest pillow to me which I hold tightly to my chest like a protective shield. Although I know all too well that this material will never protect.

  Dante Booth. The first man who tied me up and knots and got me all confused. The first man I thought that I might be in love with until it became strikingly clear to me that love shouldn’t feel that way. The first man who I called my boyfriend, and as I ran away to LA, I told myself that he would be the last man as well for so many reasons. I can’t forget what he did to me, I can’t put that behind me and start again. Things like that don’t happen.

  Dante was charming when I first met him, like a prince charming. For an eighteen-year-old who hadn’t ever been noticed by a guy before, this attention from a gentleman was overwhelming. I could hardly contain myself. With gifts and compliments, lovely dates and passion, I was head over heels in an instant. I thought that I had found the man that I was going to spend the rest of my life with, and I couldn’t wait for that.

  On my nineteenth birthday, eight months after we began dating, Dante proposed to me and asked me to move in with him. My father who raised me alone didn’t want me to. He advised me against it so many times, and rightly so, but I wouldn’t hear it. I was a stubborn teenager who assumed that I knew best. So, I agreed. And that’s when he changed. The compliments became thinly veiled insults designed to shake my self-confidence, the gifts and dates dried up and instead became arguments about how I was spending too much time with other people. I ended up cutting everyone else off a lot, including my father, just to save the hassle. The passion became something colder and more mechanical as well, which I blamed myself for. I wasn’t desirable anymore, was I? The older I got, the more I let myself go, and by the time I was twenty years old, I was a mess. A state. He was disgusted by me and I couldn’t blame him because I saw only horror when I looked in the mirror as well.

 

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