The Seat Filler: A Novel

by Sariah Wilson

  “Turn over,” he said in a voice that sounded rough with feeling, and I did, my heart pulsating in my throat. He pulled me against him and put one of his arms under my head, the other around my waist. His legs curved into mine. I put my arm on top of his, holding him the only way I could as he spooned me. His warmth surrounded me, and I sighed happily. We fit so well together.

  He reached down and gently kissed my shoulder once before laying his head against the pillows.

  His breath was warm against my neck, and I felt the tension leave his body as he drifted off to sleep. But he didn’t let go of me. Not even once sleep overtook him.

  I smiled. I wasn’t the only person in this room who snored.

  My eyelids started to feel heavy—cuddling like this with him was making me feel utterly relaxed. It was almost funny: a month ago the idea of this would have terrified me.

  But now? This was where I always wanted to be.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The next morning I woke up to the sound of my phone buzzing repeatedly. I was facing Noah, our legs intertwined and our arms wrapped around each other. I carefully extricated myself as much as possible and then turned over to find my phone, which was only a few inches from my head. I turned it on, glancing at the battery indicator. It was almost dead, since I hadn’t charged it last night.

  Then I looked at my messages. They were all from Shelby.

  I texted her back as quickly as I could, although my eyes weren’t exactly cooperating. I felt like Noah had drugged me with his expert sleep-holding skills.

  Her response was instant.

  Then:

  I smiled and texted:

  I grimaced. I don’t know why, but I’d always hated that word. Lover. It was like the word moist in my book.

  I turned toward Noah and pushed back his hair from his face. He looked so boyishly handsome while he was sleeping, all the worries of the world wiped away. His lashes were thick and dark against his cheeks.

  “We have to get up,” I told him as I kissed his forehead. “Shelby’s looking for me, and we’re supposed to head back to LA.”

  His arms tightened around me and he mumbled, “I’m very happy where I am.”

  “So am I, but we do have to go.”

  He released me and turned onto his back. I propped myself up on one elbow to look at him. He yawned and then stretched, his shirt hiking up. I very much enjoyed that particular view.

  “I was going to call room service this morning,” he said, “but I didn’t wake up when I expected to. You’re like a real-life Ambien.”

  “Are you saying I’m boring?”

  He cracked open his eyes to squint at me. “No, that you knocked me out. I haven’t slept that well in a long time.”

  “Me neither,” I confessed. I leaned down and kissed his neck. “It’s going to be weird to go back to our real lives.”

  “Things don’t have to change from how they are now.”

  Things didn’t have to change? What things? Us sharing a bed from now on? Did that mean what I thought it meant? Should I be concerned here?

  I hated that I was so inexperienced with relationships and didn’t know how to interpret the things he said.

  Or was that a reference to our friendship? That despite what Shelby thought and what I was maybe sort of in some small way hoping for, this was never going beyond the parameters I’d set up in the beginning?

  Shouldn’t that make me happy, that he only wanted to be friends? It didn’t.

  Plus, there was still that small matter of telling him that I’d lied to him the first night we’d met. I’d been planning on telling him when Shelby was done with his house, but maybe this trip was proof that my hypothesis was mistaken. He must have cared about Shelby if he was willing to do all this for her. Maybe he wouldn’t fire her. Maybe he would even forgive me quickly and we’d move on.

  Then I remembered how much he hated lying and realized a snowball in Arizona had a greater chance than I did of coming out of this unscathed.

  Before I could ask him to clarify, he kissed me quickly and left to go use the bathroom. Confused by what was going on and feeling a little freaked out, I retreated to my own room to pack up my things and get ready. Which mostly consisted of me throwing things into my suitcase while trying not to panic. I got everything in my bag and put it by the front door. Then I wandered around to make sure that I hadn’t left anything behind.

  I had to tell him. I had to. I couldn’t let things get more serious without him knowing the truth.

  That sent a spike of pain through me so intense that it literally felt like I’d been stabbed. I doubled over, grabbing on to the back of the couch to keep from falling.

  You’re going to lose him.

  That was what I feared most. Him being out of my life. Never having another morning like the one I’d experienced today.

  There was a knock at the door, and I took in a deep breath, practicing the exercises that Noah and I had worked on, and made my way over to open it. It was both Shelby and Allan, and I could tell that she wanted to question me but didn’t because she knew I wouldn’t say much with Allan standing there.

  “Are you ready?” she asked, her eyes bright with unasked questions. “The concierge called and said the car was ready.”

  “Yep.” I grabbed my suitcase and walked out into the hallway.

  Noah stepped out of his room with his bag at the same time, and I didn’t know what to say. But he, either missing my awkwardness or deciding to ignore it, came over to take me by the hand, which was a relief.

  Outside the hotel there was a bit of a traffic jam, and one of the valets apologized and said our car would be up front in a minute.

  But a minute was all it took.

  I heard murmuring and noticed people taking out their phones. Their voices became louder. “Isn’t that the guy who plays Malec Shadowfire?” “It’s Noah Douglas!” “Hey, can I get a picture with you?”

  Then there were bright flashes. It wasn’t just hotel guests. There were paparazzi, and they started crowding in on us. Just a tsunami of strangers coming straight at us. Somebody must have tipped them off that Noah was here and would be leaving this morning. They were shouting questions at him, some of them about me.

  “Get behind me,” Noah said, stepping in front of me, shielding me.

  He turned to the paparazzi and barked a single word: “Back!” He was so furious sounding and so intimidating that they did exactly as he commanded them. That didn’t stop them from taking photos or all the other people from shooting videos.

  The valets sprang into action and assisted in keeping the crowd at bay and helped us to get over to our waiting SUV.

  Once we were safely inside, Shelby let out a loud breath. “That was insane! I thought they were going to crush us.”

  But Noah only had eyes for me. “Reina’s right. It’s time for me to get a bodyguard. The idea that someone might have hurt you . . .” His voice trailed off, and he kissed me as if to reassure himself that I was okay.

  Meanwhile, he was the one I was worried about. We’d been happy in our little bubble for so long, behaving like normal people, that I’d forgotten myself. I’d forgotten who he was and how those pictures were probably going to end up on the ENZ website and in my favorite magazines with everybody wondering who I was.

  But the thing that concerned me most was how he could have gotten hurt. I’d already seen a fan physically attack him in the name of adoration—what if the next one had a knife? Or a gun? “I definitely think you should look into getting more security,” I said.

  Shelby added, “We can get somebody out to your house to install a state-of-the-art home system, too.”

  As we drove to the airport, Noah’s arm around me and holding me tightly against him, I wondered if I could always live like this. Zoe Covington was doing it, but even she’d admitted it was hard.

  I squeezed his hand. I could do it for him. I could find a way to cope with all of this craziness, if that’s what
it took.

  Problem was, I didn’t think I was going to get that chance. Not once I told him everything.

  So I did what I’d been doing—I didn’t say anything. It was so much easier to pretend I didn’t have this secret looming over our heads and to just continue life like normal. Gladys came back and paid me the rest of my fee, and I realized that I was going to really miss Sunshine. I asked if I could come by and visit sometime, and she replied by shutting the door in my face.

  I was also going to miss being so close to Noah. But me moving back to my now-empty apartment didn’t change much. Either I went to his place or he came to see me every night. Then about a week after Las Vegas, he asked me if I had plans.

  “Depends. There’s this movie star I hang out with, and he might want to do something.”

  “Forget that guy,” he said. “There’s this film festival I have to go to. I’m getting an award for Best Actor for The Last Goodbye. You should come hang out with me instead.”

  “I could do that.”

  “There’s going to be press. And fans,” he warned me.

  “I’ve already been through all that with you before. I can handle it. You don’t have to worry about me. I’d enjoy seeing you win an award.”

  He told me it was casual; he was going to wear just jeans and a T-shirt. I got a little more dressed up by putting on one of my nicer button-up shirts and my fanciest pair of jeans. The ones I only broke out for special occasions. Just in case I was photographed again.

  The night of the festival, he came to pick me up, and when we arrived at the event, the car had to go through several checkpoints, as the streets had been closed down, just like they’d been at the Oscars.

  He explained, “This film festival is tied into a street carnival that the city throws. Traffic will be insane afterward, so I rented a hotel room across the street so we can wait it out.”

  I could see for myself why such a thing would be necessary. There were people everywhere; the car was moving along at a snail’s pace.

  We finally made it to the theater where the awards were being given out. I saw a glimpse of his costar, Rubie Jorgenson, talking to a reporter. Reina and Morgan met us at the car. Reina was going to take Noah around to the fans and journalists, and Morgan was there to babysit me again and do whatever Reina needed.

  Noah kissed me, promising to see me soon, and I could tell the exact moment when everybody realized that he was the one getting out of the SUV because of the explosion of lights and people screaming his name.

  Once Rubie and Noah had both gone inside, Morgan had me get out of the car, probably under the assumption that nobody would care about me once the stars had left. She gave me a badge to wear and told me to guard it with my life, because it provided me with all access to the venue.

  She took me backstage, and I really enjoyed listening to Noah talk about his role in the movie. He was witty and self-deprecating and intelligent and all-around delightful in his responses. Someone from the crowd yelled out, “Malec Shadowfire lives!” and he responded by laughing and saying he loved Malec and missed playing him.

  After he finished, they brought out Rubie, and she was equally charming and also had the audience eating out of the palm of her hand. They were both skilled performers, on-screen and off.

  I watched as the president of the film festival presented them with their awards and they said a few words from the podium, thanking their professional teams, the cast and crew of the movie, the festival board members, and the fans for their support.

  Morgan turned toward me. “Noah might take a little while to catch up with you. He’s still got some press to do and festival board members to thank personally. I can take you across the street to his room to wait for him.”

  “Okay.”

  There were so many people gathered on the streets, and I could smell funnel cake and hear the screams of people on rides. The carnival sounded fun, and I wanted to take Noah and check it out.

  But then I realized I wouldn’t be able to do that. He had this room because he couldn’t mingle with everyone else and had to wait for the roads to clear up. That made me sad for him.

  It made me sad for us.

  At the hotel, Morgan gave me a key and told me the room number. That was another thing that I had forgotten about when it came to Noah—how often his life was handled and overseen by other people. It made the fact that he’d taken off for Vegas even more amazing.

  The room was much plainer than the suites we’d stayed in. More like a regular hotel room, but with a big sitting area. I noticed a small blue-and-white cake on the table that again had the words Mazel tov written on it. I giggled, took a picture of it, and sent it to him with a question mark.

  I’d been right in my assessment. He was absolutely the cutest. Even though either he or Kyle had forgotten about things like plates and forks. So I stole a very tiny (okay, not so tiny) chunk off the back, licking the frosting off my fingers.

  Deciding that I probably shouldn’t eat any more until he joined me, I sat on the sofa and pulled out my phone. I played a couple of games to distract myself but then ended up doing something I’d told myself I wouldn’t—I googled Noah.

  The most recent images were of him and me together. The one from Vegas was in such high definition that you could see all the flaws he didn’t have. There were also some from the kids’ birthday parties. The blogs were speculating about who I was and if I was dating Noah. I didn’t even bother looking at the comments, because I knew there wouldn’t be anything I wanted to see there.

  It felt strange, almost surreal. He was this public person that the whole world knew and loved, but he was just Noah to me. Yes, he was an actor and had these roles, and while my brain understood that he was famous and had been before we’d ever even met, none of that mattered to me.

  I looked at his picture from Las Vegas, the defiant look in his eyes, his firm lips, his strong hands, his broad shoulders, and couldn’t believe that I got to touch him, got to kiss him.

  That I wanted to keep doing those things indefinitely.

  About half an hour later, the door swung open, startling me. I’d been lost in thought, pondering my relationship with Noah and what I should do. I hadn’t arrived at any definitive solutions, but it struck me all over again how incredibly sexy he was when he grinned at me. “Sorry for taking so long.”

  “It’s okay.” And it was. I was willing to wait for him.

  Just like he’d been willing to wait for me.

  He put his award down on the table and came over to me. His phone buzzed, and he checked it. “It’s from Ray. Traffic has lightened up enough that we could go. But one of the tires is completely flat and apparently there’s no spare. He has to wait for a tow truck, so we might be stuck here for a while. Any ideas on what we should do?”

  “Some,” I said, standing up to meet him. My mouth had gone dry and my heart was beating hard in my chest as I thought about what I wanted to do. “I’ve been thinking about you teaching me and was wondering if maybe we could expand our lessons a little bit.”

  Another grin from him. “I like where this is headed. Proceed.”

  “I know how to kiss a guy now and how to not freak out after.”

  “I’ve definitely taught you well,” he agreed.

  “I love how humble you are about it and I hate to encourage you, but yes. So now, oh great and wise one, what would I do if I wanted things to go a little bit further? Not all the way, but maybe next level?”

  Before he could respond, an earthquake rumbled through, briefly shaking the room around us. I put my hands against his chest, feeling like I might have another anxiety attack. “I hate earthquakes,” I muttered. I’d grown up in Southern California. I should have been used to them, but I’d never gotten to that point.

  “It was just a little one,” he said. “It’s okay.”

  “I’m someone who relies on the ground beneath my feet. I need that. Something that’s rock solid.”

  “I’m solid.
” He put his hands over mine on his chest. “Rock solid.”

  He was. Not just physically, but emotionally, too. He’d always been someone I could rely on and trust.

  Do the same thing for him. Tell him the truth. Show him he can trust you, that annoying voice said.

  Okay. I was going to tell him. I tried ignoring the drumline that had set up residence in my heart and forced my mouth open to speak.

  Then he took a step back and sat on the bed. He reached behind his head and yanked off his shirt in one clean motion.

  All my reason and rational thought fled.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “Oh my” was all my brain could come up with to say. He was magnificent. Perfectly sculpted, only the medium was flesh instead of stone. My eyes traveled from his well-formed shoulders to his ripped stomach. My fingers itched to touch him, all those symmetrical ridges and planes.

  I wondered whether I should send my handwritten thank-you notes for all his gloriousness to his parents, his personal trainer, the United States Army, or the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.

  “Is this okay?” he asked.

  Okay? I was going to throw him a ticker-tape parade. “Is it all right for me to touch you?”

  “Please.” The way he said the word, with so much longing in his voice, the way he broke on that word with an emotion I couldn’t quite identify. “That’s entirely the reason I took it off. Since removing clothing indicates things moving to the next level.”

  “That makes perfect sense,” I said, marveling at my ability to keep forming words.

  “You know how much I enjoy being logical.”

  “I feel like you’re using your Noah Douglas–ness against me. All your charm and strength and hotness.”