He shook his head. “I didn't want to come at all, to deal with all the questions and speculations. I don't want to talk about her all night with people, but it would have been bad not to show up. Unprofessional.”
“More so than getting yourself wasted within the first hour?”
“I'm not that drunk!”
“But drunk enough, and one or two more of those things and you'd probably be blacking out.” She sighed. “Come on, I'll take you home.”
Bryce shook his head and pulled away from her. “At least let me have dinner, take a few photos, and try to sober up. Once I eat, I'll be fine.”
Arial wasn't sure she believed him, but she was willing to cut him some slack. They went to share a table with the cast. Dinner came and everything seemed to be going smoothly. Speeches were given, tears were shed, and then the party went back to socializing freely. Bryce returned to the bar, despite the fact that he'd been indulging in the free champagne being shared at the table the whole time. Scowling, she went to follow him and arrived just as he was about to take a sip of what appeared to be Scotch.
She took in a deep breath and lowered his arm. “I think it's okay to leave now. The business portion of the night is over.”
He nodded at her solemnly. “Yes, take me home.”
****
Bryce lived in a small loft outside of downtown Los Angeles on the other side of the city from Arial. She seemed to be into the city life, but he'd prefer living away from all the noise. He'd contemplated buying a house a few years ago, but without a family living in it with him, it was a waste of space. Katie hadn't wanted to live with him either, so he’d kept things as simple as possible.
His Siamese cat, Pixie, rubbed against his legs when he walked inside. He leaned down to pet her, losing his balance in the process. If it hadn't been for Arial's steadying hand, he'd have toppled over.
“Stupid shoes,” he mumbled. “They've been tripping me all night.”
Arial scoffed. “Mm-hmm, the shoes’ fault, exactly. Bad shoes.”'
“Very bad shoes!” He held his arms out to balance himself as he tried to kick the black dress shoes off his feet. They didn't seem to be able to come off.
A quiet cough escaped Arial, catching him off guard. She pointed down at his feet when he glanced up at her.
“Try the laces,” she mumbled, taking off her heels. She sighed, smiling, and dropped two inches in height. Bryce did not understand heels. She was already the perfect height for him without them. Her forehead reached his lips, making it perfect for kissing. He wanted to try for real, but even drunk he knew it wouldn't have been a good decision. No matter how much he cared about her, loved her, he knew he couldn't act on it. If he didn't tread carefully with her, he might completely destroy their friendship. Just the thought of losing her terrified him.
For what seemed like the millionth time that evening, he found himself staring at her again. “Wow,” he breathed.
****
“Hmm?” She glanced up at him. “Did you say something?”
“Talking to myself.” He smiled. “Thanks for making sure I made it back okay. You can return to the party if you'd rather be there.”
“Not sure I trust you to be good,” she teased.
He rolled his eyes, the playful sparkle in them still remaining. “I'm a perfect angel.”
“Whatever you say. I'd rather be here with you anyway.” Arial shook her head. She was not about to argue with him. When it came to guys, he was indeed about as perfect as they could get. Nice, sweet, gentle, funny, and outside of a few brief lapses in judgment, he was well behaved. She didn't know what pushed him to drink so much tonight. That was not like him, and she wanted to ask. Instead she waited to see if he would say something on his own. Prying information from him never boded well.
Bryce moved closer to her. He held her bare shoulder with his large, warm hands. “You're the best friend I've ever had.”
She bit her lip to hold back from wincing. The best friend. Not a role she hated, but she also knew it sealed her fate. Guys did not date their best friends. “You mean so much to me,” she confessed.
“It's funny, because through my entire relationship with Katie, I never told her even half of the things I’ve said to you. We shouldn't have lasted as long as we did. You're right. We were too different, her and I. But me and you, we're the same,” he murmured. He pulled her arms around his neck and placed his hands on her hips. Slowly, they rocked together back and forth in a dance without music.
Her heart was going to beat out of her chest, she was sure of it. Even on the craziest of roller coasters, it had never beaten so wildly. Did he notice? What was he even doing? What did it all mean?
He spun her in his arms. “She told me I'd know why it all ended. I think she knew how I feel about you. That she couldn't take your place or ever be as close to me as you are. There's no one else I'd rather share my secrets with.”
Arial was glad when he kept speaking so she didn't feel obligated to give a reply. Words were not forming in her mind, like the whole thing had become nothing more than mush. Swallowing, she risked looking up at him. His olive eyes were wide and intense as he gazed back down at her. He leaned in towards her, his lips grazing her cheek, and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Really kiss her because he wanted it and not because a script told him to. Her disappointment mixed with relief when he placed his face next to her ear instead.
“You're amazing, Ari,” he whispered. “We could —”
Arial placed a tentative finger to his lips, not wanting him to finish. The what-if of them being together had always been something she'd fantasized about. For years she'd wanted to hear him say there was a possibility, but he was drunk. In the morning he might not remember, let alone feel the same way. His drunken confession needed to be nipped in the bud before it caused her imagination to spiral out of control. It was better for her not to know than to be disappointed.
“I think you need to get some sleep or you'll have a nasty hangover,” she said softly. “Come on, I'll help you get into bed.”
He shook his head. “No, I don't want to have you like this. Even if I do love you so much, you deserve your first time to be special.”
She laughed, trying not to focus on the fact that he'd just said he loved her. “Relax, that's not what I meant. I just want to make sure your shoes don't trip you again on your way to the bedroom.”
“I'm not wearing my shoes.”
“Your socks, then. It could be a conspiracy.”
“Oh,” he muttered. He licked his lips, moistening them, before kissing her cheek.
Without another word, he let her walk him back to his bedroom. The boxes from his trailer covered the floor. More pictures were on the wall and on the dresser. Photography had always been important to him, or maybe it was the preservation of the memories he cared for most of all. Arial couldn't think of many guys who kept so many pictures in their home. Half of the frames on his dresser were face down. The picture of his mother lay on the bed covers. She quickly moved it before he could see it, not wanting him to notice the picture and possibly get upset.
He pulled off his suit jacket and began unbuttoning his white shirt right in front of her. While she'd seen his chiseled, solid abdomen, she didn't want to gaze at it under these conditions. Placing a hand on his back, she steered him to the bathroom. Then she found a pair of pants comfortable for sleeping in and a plain white undershirt for him to wear. He mumbled his gratitude before closing the door. While he changed, she turned down the covers to his bed.
It didn't take Bryce long to change. The suit had been attractive. She'd never complain about seeing him dressed in his finest. Seeing him as normal was just as nice, though. He was a human being, and a beautiful one at that. She was happy to have gotten the chance to know him. What was going to happen now that they were done working together? Would he keep his promise to stay friends, or would they slowly drift apart like so many other people she'd met in the busine
ss?
“I can't lose him,” she whispered.
The door to the bathroom opened. Silently, she moved to Bryce's side to help him into bed. She took the time to tuck him in, making sure the covers were nice and tight against his chest.
He gave her a drowsy smile. “Stay.”
Oh, how she wanted to. To curl up next to him in the bed and hold him through the night and kiss his pain away. But she knew it would be wrong. Still, something else inside of her urged her to not go as well. The part of her that wanted to take care of him. What if something happened in the middle of the night? He could get sick or try to leave again.
Arial gently kissed his forehead. “I'll be in the other room if you need me.”
“All night?”
She nodded. “All night.”
With a smile, he relaxed under the covers. His green eyes closed, and his breathing slowed. When she was positive he was asleep, she tiptoed out of the room to go and get comfortable on his couch.
Chapter Three
Bryce groaned as he opened his eyes to direct sunlight. The sudden contrast in lighting gave him a serious headache, his temples throbbing. He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again and stretched. For a moment, he lay in bed in total confusion. The previous night's events blurred together. He remembered drinking more than he should have. Alcohol had never been his thing, so he had a low tolerance for it. He wasn't surprised by how easily he had gotten drunk. Luck was on his side that night. If Arial hadn't shown up, he might not have woken up at home. He wouldn't have put it past some of the women there to take advantage of his inebriated state.
“Arial…,” he whispered. What did he tell her last night? He remembered all of his physical actions of the evening, but none of the words that had been said. There wasn't anything to worry about from the party. All he'd done was eat, laugh, and do the appropriate amount of socializing. Afterward was another story. He danced with Arial, kissed her face, and she had kissed him as well. But what words were exchanged? How much did he confess to her?
He rolled onto his side, facing the window and gazed out at the sunshine streaming through his blinds. Next to his bed on the end table he saw the picture of his mother he'd brought back from the trailer. It was his favorite picture because it was the last moment he'd spent with her while she was happy, healthy, and alive. Her long dark hair splayed across the green grass they had lain on together. Bryce had held the camera in front of them, wanting to capture the moment forever. Three weeks later, her remission from breast cancer ended.
While he'd told his parents he wanted to act because it was a passion of his, not to mention it'd be a great way to pay for college, the truth was he'd dived into the business so he could take care of her. The only reason he'd considered taking it up was for the money. Performing had always been fun for him. He’d loved to sing and take on small roles in school productions growing up, but taking the risk to get into the big time hadn't been worth it until the medical bills had started coming in.
Acting was becoming something he loved, so it had all worked out in the end. He enjoyed sharing emotions and stories with those who connected with his work. One of the things his mother had always told him was how much she enjoyed escaping with him. Every penny of his work had gone to her treatment. College had never been one of his life’s goals. Then again, neither had becoming rich and famous. It had its perks. He lived in comfort, could take care of his family, and got to see the world. On the other hand, being stalked by paparazzi every time he went anywhere in public wasn't fun. Nor was having his every move analyzed.
How many of them saw him drunk last night? Did they all know Arial had come over to his place? He was dreading the Internet rumors that could be circulating already.
“Speaking of Arial,” he wondered aloud as he got out of bed. The one thing he did remember was asking her to stay. But did she? He hoped so. After taking care of his business in the bathroom and running a comb through his hair, he ventured into the den of his loft. Sure enough, Arial was asleep on his couch, curled under one of his fleece blankets. Pixie lay next to her, their heads together on the pillow. He cracked a tiny half-smile at the sight.
****
Arial stirred when she heard the rustling of pots coming from the kitchen. She rubbed her eyes and then checked her cell phone to see the time. Upon looking at it, she noticed one missed call from her parents. A call that she would return later when she was more ready to talk with them. She knew what they wanted.
Slowly, she sat up on the couch, taking a moment to pet Bryce's cat who was mewing angrily at her for causing a disturbance.
“Sorry, Pix,” she said in a hushed tone. “Go back to bed.”
“She's always grumpy in the morning,” Bryce said as he worked over the stove.
Arial watched him curiously. “What are you doing?”
“Making breakfast.”
“Aren't you hung over?” she asked.
“Very, but it's the least I can do after everything you did for me last night.” He glanced over his shoulder at her. His green eyes were tired, but he was all smiles anyway. “You slept in your dress.”
She looked down at herself and sure enough, she saw her cocktail dress was a crumpled mess. “I guess I did,” she mumbled while grabbing his blanket and wrapping it around her bare shoulders. For whatever reason, she was awfully self-conscious all of a sudden. Probably because Bryce wasn't taking his eyes off her.
His gaze met her own. “You could have borrowed something more comfortable to sleep in. It's not ruined, is it?”
“Nothing a good dry cleaning and press can't fix.” She stood and stretched. “I wouldn't mind taking you up on the offer of clothes, but do you have anything that'll fit?”
“Sure, give me a minute. If the stove catches on fire, put it out.” He winked and left the kitchen, disappearing into his bedroom. As promised, a minute later he reappeared with a small pile of clothes. “Do you know where the bathroom is?”
Arial snorted softly. “I've been here at least a hundred times, Bryce. You don't need to treat me like a stranger.”
“No, of course not.” He went back to the kitchen.
She watched him resume cooking at the stove and took that as a good opportunity to go change in the bathroom down the hall. The dress wasn't ruined, thankfully. There was a hanger lying on the bathroom floor to hang it on once she got it off. Quickly, she put on the vintage T-shirt he'd brought out for her. It might as well have been a dress. She couldn't help but notice the lingering musk of his cologne on the shirt despite how clean it was. Next in the pile was a pair of flannel, red-plaid pants. She had to roll the waistband down a few inches and tie the string belt tightly to ensure the pants didn't fall off. Thankfully, her hips helped with that, too.
Now she was comfortable and, after giving her hair a quick comb-through with her fingers, also presentable. When she walked out of the bathroom, the smell of hash browns filled her nostrils, and she sighed happily. It'd been a long time since she'd had a true breakfast, and a homemade one at that. Bacon was sizzling as well. The closer she got to the kitchen, the more she could smell. On the table already were green grapes and bananas.
“Have a seat,” he said.
Arial was about to grab a chair from the table to do just that when the all too familiar sounds of her calypso beat ringtone filled the air. With a heavy sigh, she picked it up off the coffee table in the den. Mom and Dad, the caller ID read, and she knew she couldn't avoid them anymore.
“Hey,” she said. Her voice was far more chipper than she felt. Arial loved her whole family and would do anything for them. Some of their requests, however, were not things she particularly looked forward to.
“Ari, honey, you finally picked up.” The delightful Patty Oakley spoke with a voice embodying pure sunshine that softened Arial's heart and always made her smile. Her Southern drawl was equally contagious.
“Ma, I was sleepin',” Arial said. “I am three hours behind you.” She saw Bryce glance o
ver her way when she spoke. She had to wave a hand in front of her to try and distract him away from the conversation.
Patty's laughter tinkled through the phone. “It's late there, too. I'm sure that party kept you up all night long. You didn't do anythin' bad, did you?”
She could feel her cheeks grow hot at just the mention of doing anything on the list of things her mother considered scandalous. “No, Ma, I didn't do anything bad. My lips are still unkissed, and that means the rest of me has been untouched as well.”
She noticed Bryce's eyebrows lift slightly when she spoke. Once again he looked at her, and she shot him a glare. He chuckled quietly and held up his hands in surrender. Arial let out a long breath.
“If you're calling to make sure I am, in fact, flying back home at the end of next week, you shouldn't be so paranoid,” Arial continued. “I promised I would come back for the rest of the summer, and I will keep my word.” Even it killed her. Two months shouldn't, not in theory. Unless, of course, it was actually possible to die of boredom.
“You're such a good girl. Okay, I'm paranoid. Last summer you said the same thing, though, and while I understand why you couldn't make it back, it still broke my heart. No more surprise work trips?” Patty asked.
“No more,” she vowed. “There aren't any producers telling me we're filming in Rio for three weeks.” That had put a major kink in Arial’s plans for the previous summer. Filming for the off-location scenes had been changed to the middle of the summer instead of the beginning of fall to adjust to possible weather complications. She had finally made the effort to spend a good amount of time with her family, and the production of her show turned her into a liar. She hated to go back on a promise, having been raised not to say a word she didn't mean. While her parents and siblings had understood, it was still the principle of the matter.
She closed her eyes, unsure if her mother understood how much of a sacrifice it was for her to return to the place she was raised in the middle of nowhere. She doubted it. “My flight will be there early evenin' Friday. Let me know if I need to get a taxi.”
A Slow Burning Fire Page 3
