Hollywood Ever After

by Sasha Summers

  I smiled, my mind flitting back to Josh again. I wished I was having dinner with him.

  Chapter Six

  “Another one, please.” I sounded funny. Am I slurring my words? The club was so loud that everything sounded a little distorted.

  “Uh-huh, that’s just what you need,” Shannon said.

  I finished my drink, swaying to the beat of the music. Why can’t I sit still?

  “It’s her vacation. She can drink as much as she wants,” Arthur White said.

  I smiled at Arthur. He was a delightful surprise. Bald and slightly round, Arthur had a witty sense of humor and a gentle face. I had the distinct impression that he might be Shannon’s boyfriend and I couldn’t be happier.

  “Thank you, Arthur. I know…I mean, I think I’m drunk.” I paused, then nodded at my statement. “It’s been a long time, but this is the way I think it felt…then.” I saw Shannon’s eyebrows rise as I sputtered to a halting stop. “Don’t look at me like that. This is all your fault.” I stared at Shannon, eyes narrowed.

  “My fault? Do tell.” She seemed to be swaying in her seat too.

  Or maybe it was just me.

  “The whole new life thing. This has been the most bizarre few days of my life. Which is saying a lot, considering how totally screwed up my life has been. Is this a mid-life crisis? Is thirty-five middle-aged?” I paused, but neither of them said anything, so I continued. “I mean, the damn book…” I pointed a wobbly finger at Shannon. “I should hate you for that. You know that, right?”

  Shannon blushed and nodded. “You should. But you don’t.” I knew she felt sincerely sorry; I could see it on her face. Of course, I’d drunk most of a bottle of tequila, so I wasn’t one hundred percent about anything I was seeing at this point. “Any second you’re going to be stoked about becoming a published author. Just wait.”

  “Why would anyone want to publish it? It’s so damn depressing.”

  Shannon shook her head, watching me with arched eyebrows. “You’re going to have the mother of all hangovers tomorrow, Claire.”

  I shrugged. “I’ll live. I guess I can blame you for Josh, too.”

  “What about Josh?” Shannon smiled, nudging Arthur.

  “Josh… Well.” Memories flashed, making my words rush out unsteadily. “If it wasn’t for you I would never have tripped or fallen or had him smile that smile at me. I’d probably never have seen his movie. Oh, maybe I would, since it was your movie too. But now he’s…I think…he’s really…” My throat was suddenly very dry. Josh filled my mind. “What am I doing?”

  “Right now, you’re drinking. More than I’ve ever seen you drink.” Shannon winced as I downed the contents of my fresh drink.

  “Can we dance?” I stood, wobbling.

  Shannon nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Arthur stayed at our table. “I’m more of a voyeur. Watching you two should be quite entertaining.” He laughed as Shannon scowled at him.

  I loved dancing. At least I did tonight. I felt surrounded by the thumping bass and the energy of the other dancers on the floor. I pulled Shannon after me. When we found some space on the dance floor, I closed my eyes and let the music move my body. Occasionally someone pushed into us or bumped me, but I laughed it off. Shannon was very tolerant. Dancing was not her thing.

  “You don’t have to keep me company.” I smiled brightly at her. The lights bounced off the dance floor, off dancers’ sequined shirts, as well as someone’s glittered Mohawk. I blinked, but my eyes didn’t respond and everything stayed pleasantly fuzzy around the edges.

  “Claire, I’m not leaving you alone on the dance floor right now.”

  I laughed at the expression on her face. “I’m just dancing. I love dancing.”

  She laughed too. “So I see.”

  The next song was familiar. I’d listened to it in the car with the kids, blasting it as loudly as possible. It had an awesome beat.

  “I love this song!” I squealed before singing along to the chorus, loudly.

  A man danced across the floor, smiling at me enthusiastically. He danced around me while I continued to sing and spin with the beat. He moved in a little bit closer, singing the chorus too. I giggled; neither one of us should ever sing. He spun me once and I twirled into him, laughing when I almost fell over. He caught me and spun me away again.

  Two very large, strong hands caught me and I looked up into the most beautiful face I’d seen since last night.

  “Josh? Hi, Josh!” I squealed, bouncing in his arms as he smiled down at me. I kept bouncing, my racing heart thumping faster than the music as his hands slid around my back. “I didn’t know you were here.” I was smiling like an idiot.

  “You’re a rather focused dancer.”

  “I am! Never do it…dance, I mean. But it’s fun!” The song ended and I frowned.

  He laughed. “Should I make them play the song again? I will if it will make that pathetic little frown disappear.”

  Another song began. It was slower, but it still had a good beat. “No, I think this will work, and I won’t sing. Even better.”

  “I liked your singing.” He was looking at me…the way he always looked at me.

  I felt light-headed and dizzy as I stared up at him, wobbling on unsteady feet. I knew I was drunk, but now there was more than just alcohol heating me up from the inside.

  His hands were firm, guiding me closer to him. I let one hand rest on his chest as we swayed together. Between the buzzing euphoria from my many drinks and the raging hunger burning in his eyes, my every nerve was tingling. I was more than a little pleased with life at the moment.

  I quivered under his touch. His fingers splayed across my lower back, fitting us closer together. We danced with the music, our movements in sync with one another.

  Under the flashing colored lights, my hand looked red and then green against the white of his shirt. I felt the heat of his skin, the solid strength of his muscles through the fabric of his shirt. His scent, his touch, his presence stirred images of our night together, sharp in my otherwise foggy mind. My skin grew more sensitive and my senses flooded with him.

  I was aching for him, all of him. Now. My breath grew short as I remembered how he felt buried deep inside me.

  The rational side of my brain knew I was losing control, but there was too much alcohol in my system. I had no fear or inhibition. And I liked the fire raging inside of me.

  My eyes slid to his mouth and I felt my tongue wet my lips. His breath hitched and he closed his eyes. When he looked at me again, there was little doubt he knew exactly what I was feeling.

  The song ended and I felt myself being guided from the floor.

  “Taking her home?” Shannon had apparently returned to the table. She and Arthur regarded us with interest.

  There were three other people at the table now. I didn’t know them. But I didn’t really care at the moment. I wanted to kiss the pulse wildly beating in Josh’s throat. I was vaguely aware that now might not be the right time for that. I glanced at his neck. It looked very kissable.

  “Unless you have other plans?” Josh looked from Shannon to me.

  I was looking at him as if I were about to eat him. It wasn’t intentional; that was really what I wanted to do at the moment…because he was so damn gorgeous…

  He looked back at Shannon, his jaw muscle noticeably rigid.

  “I recommend you get her home. And make her drink some water at some point, please,” Shannon added. “Here.” She handed Josh some keys and waved at me with a smile.

  Then we were heading toward the door. “Wait.” I stopped. We weren’t moving, but everything seemed to be moving around me. “You’re here with friends?”

  His hands clasped my shoulders, steadying me. He smiled down at me. “Yes.”

  “You shouldn’t leave them. I don’t want to mono…monopolize you.” My words trailed off as my eyes met his.

  He wanted me. I could see it. His nostrils flared just a bit. His jaw clenched and unclenched. I
smiled slowly. I liked that I could make him react this way.

  I asked, “Don’t you want to stay?” Say no.

  If he wanted to stay, I might be able to stop staring at him or thinking about how perfectly we fit together. It wasn’t completely out of the question, not yet. My eyes fell to his lips and my smile grew.

  “No.” He leaned closer, whispering in my ear, “Claire, we have to leave now if you’re going to look at me like that.” His face reflected the hunger I felt.

  My voice was husky as I whispered, “I’ll be good.” Not a chance.

  He paused, his eyebrow rose in question. “You want to stay?”

  “Nope.” My eyes fell to his mouth again.

  Josh’s smile was pinched as he led me to the exit.

  He stopped at the door, taking off his jacket and handing it to me. “There are photographers outside.” He smiled at the confused expression on my face as he placed his jacket over my head to hide me.

  I clung to Josh’s hand, trusting him to lead me through the throng of press and enthusiastic fans. I could hear them though, and it was slightly intimidating. There were shouts of “Josh!” and “We love you!” and other things I didn’t understand. I held on tight.

  Then I was in a car. Josh helped me in and shut the door firmly while I burrowed under his jacket and waited. He was in the car a minute later, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. It took some time; I could hear the sound of voices, rapid clicking, and the occasional thump on the car’s hood. I pulled myself into a ball, completely covered by his coat. I imagined photographers pressed to his windshield and tugged the coat closer, remembering clips from entertainment shows. I remembered wanting to slap those photographers as they crammed themselves and their cameras into the celebrity’s personal space. That was something Josh had to contend with. It was part of his life.

  He peeked under the jacket at me. “We’re off.”

  “Safe?” I smiled at him.

  His eyes lingered before he turned his attention back to driving. “Safe.”

  Something about the tone of his voice, the look on his face, made me come alive instantly. The desire filled me again, and I was acutely aware of how alone we were. It was quiet in the car after the club and the press. An explosive silence filled the space. I could hear him breathing, unsteadily.

  The car’s air conditioner blew through the silk of my dress. The air was cold, a contrast to his hot hand resting on my thigh. I’m not sure if it was the alcohol, the compulsion to break all of the rules, or the need to let my basic instincts take control, but I was most definitely on fire. I sat up and moved next to him, delighted that this car had a bench seat.

  I bit his ear, nipping at the earlobe and tracing it with my tongue. His smell filled my nose, fanning my enthusiasm, as I trailed my lips down his throat.

  Josh shivered, his breathing picking up.

  I was vaguely aware that we were sitting in the driveway of Shannon’s house as my hand crept under his shirt and my fingers traveled across the hard plane of his chest. I didn’t hesitate, but grasped the waist of his pants, unbuttoning them quickly. My mouth continued to bite and kiss his ear, moving down his neck. I smiled when his hand caught my hair wildly, trying to turn my face so he could kiss me.

  I twisted away from his kiss, nuzzling his neck with my nose as I pulled him from his pants. He was hot, erect, and ready in my grasp. The slick silk of my dress helped me slide so that my head rested in his lap. My mouth closed over the tip of him.

  “Claire…” he ground out between tight lips.

  I took one of his hands in mine, wrapping it in my hair for him, then slid him into my mouth. I closed one hand around him, holding him, as my tongue explored him. My mouth slid up, almost to the tip, then back down, while my hand tightened firmly around him.

  The hand in my hair shook, then grabbed more. His body was shaking, his breath ragged.

  I let my lips and tongue explore him, savoring his shivers and groans.

  It took him only a few minutes. Then he was groaning fiercely, his body tightening and pulsing with his release.

  He pulled me to him, almost into his lap. His breath was ragged against my face as he kissed me. His heart was thundering under my hand on his chest. His hands slid around me. They opened against my back before they fisted, clutching my dress and holding me close to him.

  I took his face between my hands and kissed him back, long and leisurely. It was empowering, and satisfying, that I could affect him so strongly. I smiled against his mouth as his breath continued to escape him in short, ragged gasps.

  I stroked my hand across his face, my forehead resting against his.

  Our eyes locked.

  My heart stopped.

  His face was flushed, his eyes wide and…expectant.

  Panic hit me in the stomach and I pulled away from him to give us both some space. “Thanks for bringing me home.” My voice was unsteady.

  I let myself out of the car and closed the door quickly behind me, making my way to the house as steadily as I could. I didn’t turn around as I let myself in the house. I pushed the door closed and leaned against it, the whir in my head overwhelming me.

  I took a deep breath and tried to clear my head.

  His face–the way he was looking at me.

  I swallowed. Get a grip, Claire.

  I was overreacting. He’d just had an intense sexual experience. That was all. The look on his face was satisfaction, nothing more. If he felt anything for me, he’d get over it. Not that his feeling something would be bad.

  It would be wonderful.

  I shook my head, trying to find reason.

  Just because I was inexperienced and overly romantic didn’t mean he was. Just because I let myself think about him too many minutes over the course of the day didn’t mean he thought about me. Because his face, his presence, did more than stir my desire didn’t mean I did the same for him. But the look on his face made me hope.

  You’re pathetic, I scolded myself. Be realistic.

  Nothing about us made any sense. But my heart didn’t seem to care. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. I shivered, shaking my head. I was terrified. The truth was I wanted more.

  I’m very drunk, that’s all.

  I stepped out of my shoes and walked quickly into the kitchen, my head spinning. After gulping down a tall glass of water, I wiped my face with a cool cloth. My hands were still shaking, frustrating me even more. I tossed the towel onto the counter and headed to my room. Once there, I pulled off my dress and clicked on the computer.

  With music bouncing off the walls, I checked my email. There was an e-card from Daniel for my birthday, which I deleted without opening. Nothing from Mom yet.

  Still rattled, I threw clothes around the room as I hunted for my robe, growing increasingly agitated when I couldn’t find it. I tried to slam the door but the pile of clothes stopped it before it could. That’s when I found it, my black kimono, hanging conveniently on the hook on the back of the bedroom door. I glared at it before I tugged it on and tied it tightly in place.

  It was hot. I was hot. I opened the glass doors onto the balcony, staring down at the white beach below.

  I closed my eyes, trying to tune everything out. In my mind, I could still see him… My heart ached. Why had I run out? Why was I freaking out?

  Because I don’t want to be vulnerable ever again. I don’t want to hurt anymore.

  My reasoning seemed flawed. I was already hurting…a little. But it was because I was running away.

  “Claire?” I jumped a little, turning to him.

  Josh stood straight, a wary look on his face.

  “You scared me.”

  “Just now? Or in the car?” His voice was soft, but there was an edge to it.

  I pulled my gaze from his.

  He took a deep breath, considering his words before he spoke. “Claire, I don’t know what you want. You might not know what you want.” He took slow steps toward me.

&n
bsp; I kept my eyes averted and my emotions hidden.

  His hand caught my cheek, capturing my eyes with his. “But I know what I want.”

  I looked at him, knowing my confusion was clearly written across my face.

  His face looked apprehensive, his voice wavering. “I…I care about you, Claire.” He took a breath. “I’d like to spend more time with you.”

  “I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.” I sounded as shocked as I felt.

  His eyes held mine captive. “You can come to London. The movie’s opening there. Bring your children for spring holiday. Make it a proper vacation.”

  I stared at him, completely at a loss.

  He was watching me carefully. “We can figure this out as we go. Together.”

  I shook my head. His words were tempting—and completely unsettling.

  “You don’t need to be afraid of me, of us. You have every reason not to trust a man ever again, but I’m hoping this—” His hand caught mine in his and placed it over his heart to emphasize his words. “—will help you want to try.” His heart beat wildly under my palm.

  His words hung in the air. I heard the sincerity in his tone and stared at our hands. “Josh, we live in different worlds. We…we’re in very different places in our lives.” I stepped away from him.

  “Not really. We’re both at a beginning.” He moved closer, the space between us disappearing.

  My chest tightened. He’d just given me what I wanted and more. “I don’t think I can.”

  “Why?” His brow furrowed and he took a deep breath. “The past has no impact on what happens now.”

  Why indeed? I shook my head, unable to find words that could adequately explain the mix of emotions I was experiencing.

  “There’s nothing to prevent you from having more.” His face was torn, then he took a steadying breath.

  I wasn’t thinking clearly. “I can’t.”

  I heard the hesitancy in his voice. “I’ll understand if you don’t want this.”

  “That’s not it…” I mumbled.

  “I would understand…because I read your book, Claire. I know what you’ve been through—as much as anyone can. It was before I met you, before I knew it was your story.”