by L.H. Cosway
“It’s a pity Alicia doesn’t have anyone to hitch up her dress,” I commented, unable to help the affection in my voice. I loved how excited she got about these little Gene Kelly titbits.
“Perhaps they should employ someone for the job. Do you think many would apply for the role of skirt lifter?” she asked humorously.
That made me laugh more. “Aye, predominantly men …well, and lesbians.”
Rose laughed, too, and when our gazes met, I had a sudden moment of courage as I blurted, “Come home with me this weekend.”
Her eyes widened a small bit and her mouth opened, then shut. “You’re going home?”
I nodded, my throat growing dry. “For the long weekend. I need to get out of the city for a while, been feeling a bit homesick. A few days back on the Island will see me right.”
“Ah, I see,” said Rose, and her expression turned sad as she studied me. “You never mentioned feeling homesick.”
I shrugged and glanced away. “You don’t need to be listening to me whining about homesickness.”
Her cool, soft hand went to mine as she intertwined our fingers. “You never whine, Damon, and I like being the person you vent to. It makes me feel useful.”
I moved my thumb, sliding it along the inside of her wrist, feeling gratified when I saw her tremble. “So, will you come with me? I don’t want to be without you.”
When she replied, her voice was quiet. “I’d love to…it’s just, do you think it’s a little soon for us to be going away together?”
Her question made something in my heart tug, because I knew what she really meant. She was nervous about spending the night with me. It was a big step, and, though I very much wanted to be inside her, I had no intention of rushing into anything.
“I don’t think so. But Rose” — I coughed to clear my throat — “I have a spare bedroom you can stay in. This trip isn’t about…sex,” I said, almost feeling shy saying the word. God, what a pair we made. “I just want to spend a few days with you away from the city. I want your company, that’s all.”
She bit her lip, and my eyes followed the movement before she let out a small, nervous breath. “Okay, then,” she said, mustering a smile. “I’ll come.”
My chest thumped wildly at her acceptance, and I squeezed her hand tighter.
“Thank you,” I breathed, and I meant it. She had no idea the gift she’d just given me, no idea how appealing I found the idea of having her in my home, the only place where my heart felt whole.
***
Early on Friday morning we caught a flight to Inverness, and then I drove us to the island in a rental car. There wasn’t a need to take a boat, as Skye was connected to the mainland by bridge. The entire journey Rose had her eyes glued out the window, fascinated by every new thing she saw. I couldn’t blame her. We were in a very beautiful part of the world, a place that had always made me feel at peace ever since I was a child.
When I was a teenager and my life was turned upside down by fame and a selfish, out-of-control father, I’d come here for refuge and never looked back until the day Gran died. At the time I thought it might be a terrible decision to go to London, but looking at the beautiful, kind, amazing woman sitting next to me in the passenger seat, I now considered it one of the best decisions I’d ever made.
“I seriously can’t get over this scenery. I feel like I’m in Outlander,” she said with giddy excitement. I had the urge to lean across the car and kiss her, but restrained myself.
“Whatever did happen to Jamie and Claire?” I asked fondly. I hadn’t listened in with her since that day we spent lunch together in the practice room, when I’d been so sexually frustrated I was sure twenty cold showers couldn’t cool me down.
She cast me an exasperated look but smiled anyway. “Sooo much. There’s no point even trying to catch you up. I’m already on book three. You’ll just have to read them yourself.”
“I think I will,” I said.
“Oh, my God! Are those sheep on the road? Look how close they are to the car. They don’t even care.”
“You’re such a city lass,” I chided her. “You talk like you’ve never seen a sheep before.”
Rose blushed. “I actually haven’t. This is my first visit to Scotland. I never have much disposable income for holidays.”
This news filled me with pride to be bringing her here for the first time, but also to be bringing her on what could be considered her first holiday in who knew how long. That’s what I loved about Rose. Even though her upbringing had been just as unusual as mine, she wasn’t jaded. She kept her sense of wonder about the world, and it was what made her special in my eyes.
“I’ll have to make this trip a good one, then,” I said low.
She looked at me as I concentrated on the road, and I could feel her studying my profile. “You seem different,” she said at length.
“I do?”
“Yeah. There’s this tension to you when you’re in the city. It’s not there anymore.”
“Of course it’s not. I’m home, Rose. No matter where my life takes me, Skye will always be my home,” I said, glancing at her briefly.
She wore a slightly dazed expression. “I don’t know why I find that sexy, Damon, but yeah, it’s kinda hot,” she blurted, and then seemed to think better of it. Her cheeks tinged with red.
“You’re sexier,” I said in an effort to soothe her embarrassment, my eyes tracing over her form. My words didn’t have the intended effect, though, because she seemed to turn even redder and focused her attention out the window. I smirked. “What? No response?”
“None that’s appropriate to be said in a moving vehicle when I can’t act on it,” she answered, shifting her thighs a little.
Now I was the one without a reply, my head swimming with the sexy-as-fuck image of her straddling me in the front seat. She might pull my belt free and sink her hand around my cock…. Fuck, I needed to think of something else. Sheep, I should think of sheep. Nothing sexy about sheep. Bloody noisy annoying bastards. They never shut the fuck up.
Ah, that did the trick.
After a few minutes of quiet passed, I finally spoke. “It feels good to get away from everyone. I like the cast well enough, but being around them every day was beginning to stifle.”
Rose cast me a curious glance. “Even Alicia?”
“Especially Alicia,” I said, placing extra emphasis on the words. She seemed content with that.
“I never told you about the day she walked in on us in your dressing room,” she went on, almost absently, her gaze still trained out the window.
My curiosity was piqued. “No?”
Rose shook her head and turned her body to face me. When I put my hand on the gear stick, my fingers brushed her knee and she jumped a little. It was probably slightly perverse, but I enjoyed how reactive she was to even the simplest touch.
“When I got home that day, Julian had someone in his bedroom. From the noises I could hear, it wasn’t too difficult to figure out what they were doing. Then a little while later his bedroom door opened, and out walked Alicia. I swear I couldn’t have been more surprised if Mother Theresa had walked out of that bedroom.”
I let out a laugh, taken aback. “You’re joking.”
“No joke. I think she went to Julian because she was feeling shitty about walking in on us. Now she’s not returning any of his phone calls, and it makes me fucking angry because she was just using him. Julian deserves better. I mean, he’s hardly broken-hearted over her, but I hate that this is the kind of behaviour he’s come to accept. I just really wish a woman would come along and truly care for him, you know?”
I really wanted to emote, but because of my own experiences, I was slightly prejudiced towards Julian. However, I knew that if someone like Rose could love him like a brother, then he must have been a good person. There must have been a reason he made a living from sex.
“Has he ever had a girlfriend?” I asked, curious.
Rose sighed. “He had one s
erious girlfriend a couple years ago. She was an escort, too. It ended very messily, as you can imagine.”
“Say if I’m being judgemental, but I can’t see many women being okay with his profession.”
Rose sighed. “No, you’re right. I definitely couldn’t do it. I guess I’ve just always held a hope for him. He has his reasons for how he lives his life, but sometimes I just wish he could love someone so completely that the very idea of sleeping with anyone else makes him feel ill. Is that horrible?”
“Not at all. You love him. You want him to be happy,” I said.
A moment of quiet passed, and Rose began chewing on her lip. I could tell she wanted to say something more but was hesitating. Finally, she got it out.
“Can I ask you something? It’s fine if you don’t want to answer.”
“No, ask me.”
“The first day we met, when I told you about Julian, you said something that troubled me. You said you didn’t have the best memories of sex workers….” Her voice trailed off, and my hands fisted reflexively on the steering wheel.
I coughed to clear my throat, which suddenly felt dry as a bone. My heart was beating double time, and a sick dread filled my stomach. I didn’t want to talk about this. I didn’t want her to be disgusted. In fact, I could hardly believe I’d said it at all, but it must have been a moment of weakness. I’d been so stressed that day, overwhelmed with leaving behind my island life and coming to work in London.
“I remember,” I answered finally.
Rose seemed to hesitate again, and her voice was barely a whisper when she asked, “What did you mean by that?”
I lifted a hand and began to scratch my neck. I scratched so hard I was afraid I might leave a mark. “I told you about my dad, how he liked to spend my money on parties and booze, drugs, too.”
Rose nodded but stayed silent. I summoned up the courage to keep going.
“I was just fifteen. Still a virgin, and, despite having worked in Hollywood for a number of years, I was still fairly innocent. Mum saw to that. I was even more sheltered than typical teenagers, because once I started acting, I was home schooled, so I wasn’t around other kids much unless we worked together.”
“Sounds lonely,” Rose commented.
“It was, but then again, I’ve always been a natural loner. I mean, I like people, I just feel a bit drained if I have to be around them all the time. That’s why I was so adamant about going home this weekend. I needed a break.”
“Tell me about your dad,” she prompted gently, obviously aware that I was veering off topic.
I exhaled heavily, feeling ill as the memory resurfaced. “We lived in a house he was renting in the Hollywood Hills – with my money, of course. The parties seemed to go on all day and all night sometimes, but I mostly kept to my room.”
I paused, remembering that shy lad, the one who could put on another skin and make audiences feel a world of emotions, but then when he had to be himself again, he was painfully introverted. Self-conscious and timid. Still waters. Not much had changed, only now I wasn’t so timid. I was stronger, more in control of my own destiny. Rose studied me sadly.
“After a while he got into hiring prostitutes,” I blurted, and heard her shocked intake of breath. “It was easy to pay for things like that when you could afford it. I felt sick every time they visited the house, sometimes several of them at once. One Christmas when I got home after being on set, I found him in the living room with three scantily clad women.
“There were drugs scattered all over the table, and my dad was off his face. I tried going to my bedroom, but he was having none of it. Insisted I do a line to celebrate the holiday with them. I couldn’t get away, and in the end he practically forced my head down until I snorted the white powder. Must’ve been cocaine, but really, it could’ve been anything. Next he announced that one of the prostitutes, I can’t even remember her name, I was so traumatised, was to be my Christmas present.
“She climbed astride me on the couch and began taking off her clothes. It’s such a weird thing to remember, but I have this distinct recollection of her talking about one of my recent films, saying how sexy I was in it.” I paused, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles hurt. “I was a fucking child.” I ground my teeth, angry at the memory, as Rose set a soothing hand on my shoulder.
“We can stop talking about this if it’s too much,” she said, her voice wavering like she was feeling just as emotional as I was right then.
I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. If I don’t tell you now I never will.”
“All right,” she whispered, keeping her hand on my shoulder.
“My…my dad took the other two women and went into his bedroom. I was left alone with that one prostitute. My head felt fuzzy from the drugs. I’d barely taken a drop of alcohol in my entire life, so obviously the coke hit me hard. Before I knew it, she’d taken my virginity. I can barely even remember because I was so high. The next morning, I woke up still in that same spot on the couch, my dad in the kitchen cooking breakfast and going on about me finally becoming a man. How he was so proud.”
I fell silent then, letting the stark horror of the memory wash over me. I heard Rose hitch a small, watery breath before I continued. “I didn’t touch a woman for two years after that, could barely even stomach the idea of sex. It all just felt like badness. In my late teens, just before I was granted my emancipation from my dad, I starting dating someone. Her name was Jennifer and she was an aspiring actress, but unlike me she was wild. Confident. I felt excited whenever I was around her, thought I was in love with her. In the end, it became clear she was only with me for my money and fame so I broke up with her. It was like Dad all fucking over again. I was so young, but at that point I decided I’d never touch another woman again, and for a long time I stuck to it.
“Then about four years ago I met Lizzy here in Skye. She was a young widow with two small children, and she was very sweet to me. We struck up a friendship that slowly turned sexual. She knew about what had happened to me and was very patient. When we finally started having sex, it felt like I became obsessed. I’d abstained for so long, and then suddenly I couldn’t get enough. In the end, it was my inability to trust that forced her to end it. She wanted to get married, but I just couldn’t make the commitment. My experiences with Dad and with Jennifer meant I didn’t trust anyone new. There was always this nagging voice in the back of my head telling me people only wanted me for my money, that as soon as I committed to Lizzy she’d change, start spending all my money and become a different person. This was why I could never give my heart to her, could never love her. She said I was just passing time with her and that she deserved to be loved completely. She was right. She deserved better than anything I could ever offer.”
I stopped speaking then. Rose was being very quiet, but when I turned to look at her, I saw tears in her eyes. It shocked me to see her emote to my story on such a deep level that I had to pull the car over. I hadn’t meant to upset her. Once I turned off the engine, I pulled her to me.
“Don’t cry, petal. It’s all over now.”
She sniffled, her face pressed to my chest. “But you were so young, Damon. I can’t believe the situation you were in. Your dad should be sent to prison for how he treated you, and that…that woman, what she did was tantamount to rape.”
“I know that. I know,” I said, petting her head and trying to soothe her, even though I was the one who’d been through the experience. It was odd, but in a way I felt a disconnect from it all. Now when I looked back, I didn’t feel like that boy was me. I didn’t feel like the sheltered, innocent lad who’d experienced that awful night. That had only been one thing amid years of neglect living with Dad, but it was the turning point. I might not have sought emancipation for another two years, but it was the details of my father’s treatment of me coming out during the trial that had finally secured my freedom. A lot of the records were sealed, and I was glad. It would kill me to have people know about it. Some of the
details were public, but not the most sordid ones. It was different with Rose. I wanted her to know. I wanted her to understand and accept me regardless.
“I’m getting snot all over your shirt,” she said then, and I laughed tenderly.
“That’s okay. I’ve got lots of clean ones in my suitcase.”
She pulled away to look up at me, her eyes reddened from crying. “Damon, I can’t imagine how horrific that must’ve been. It’s the ugliest things that are the hardest to share, and I know how much courage that must’ve taken.” She paused to suck in a breath. “But know this — it doesn’t affect how I see you. I see you perfectly, and I like what I see. I always will. This only helps me to understand better, and for that I feel truly honoured. I feel honoured to be entrusted with your hurt,” she said, whispering the last part. “So thank you.”
I didn’t know what to say. It was almost like she knew I feared her rejection and was eager to reassure me that it wasn’t going to happen. “Thank you,” I whispered back, repeating her words but with a different meaning. I ran a hand through her long, silky hair, my gaze tracing her pretty features. After a long while I hugged her with both arms wrapped around her shoulders, pressed my lips to the top of her forehead and murmured, “I’m so glad I found you.”
Twenty-One.
*Rose*
It was early evening when we finally arrived at Damon’s cottage. After our heart-to-heart in the car, I was still feeling very raw, still reeling from the things that had happened to him, things I couldn’t change. I now understood so much, why he’d chosen a life of obscurity over fame, and why he was so resistant to letting people in.
But really, I felt honoured that he’d chosen to let me get as close as he has, even though I didn’t really understand why he trusted me. The fact that he couldn’t commit to this Lizzy woman was troubling, but perhaps he just hadn’t been ready then. Perhaps he’d needed a few more years to get to that point. At least, I hoped.
Stepping out of the car, I breathed in the fresh sea air and just soaked up the scenery for a minute. Damon’s cottage sat right on the coast, and there were barely any houses for miles around, just a small few scattered haphazardly in the distance. My hair was swept up with the wind, billowing around my head.
