Friction

by L. D. Davis

  “Don’t call him hot, and I don’t want to talk about it. Wait. You didn’t sleep with him did you?” His question, sadly, was serious.

  “No, but if he was the one lying in my bed, there wouldn’t be any talking going on right now.” I sighed.

  “I’ll solve the not talking thing,” Alden said, rolling to his side. “But you have to promise me to never ever hook up with that guy.”

  “Does he have some kind of disease?”

  “Not that I am aware of.”

  “Does he have a little, little penis?” I asked.

  “Why would I care to even know that information, Noa?” Alden asked, sounding disgusted.

  “Then I can’t promise never to hook up with Jared Leto.”

  “You would have sex with Jared Leto before you’d have sex with me?” Alden asked incredulously.

  Without any hesitation, I said, “Yes. No offense.”

  “I’m so offended I can’t see straight.”

  “You can’t see straight because it’s dark in here,” I giggled.

  “Noa?”

  “Alden?”

  “Shut up.”

  He kissed me, and I happily complied. Again, I was lost, and all was forgotten, especially Larson.

  “What the fuck?” Alden cried out when I took off my cover-up.

  “What?” I asked, throwing my hands up.

  “Where’s the rest of your damn bathing suit?” he demanded, throwing a towel over me.

  “Stop it,” I said, pushing the towel off. “I mean it!”

  “Put some clothes on!”

  “We’re on the beach in Miami,” I pointed out. “I’m wearing just enough clothes.”

  “The hell you are,” Alden grumbled, standing there with his arms crossed.

  “It’s just a bikini,” I said and settled down in the lounge chair.

  “That’s the problem,” he growled. “It’s just a bikini.”

  “Alden, sit down or go somewhere,” I sighed as I slipped on my sunglasses. “You’re blocking the sun.”

  Grudgingly, he sat down in the chair beside me. I didn’t know why he was freaking out. We were on a private beach and there weren’t too many people around.

  There were almost two weeks between the New York and Miami galas. We spent a couple of days hanging out with the band, having lunch with Sahara and Greg (much to Alden’s chagrin), and lounging about Alden’s place.

  My new favorite thing was to be serenaded by Alden Breck, the very man who I couldn’t even stand to watch on stage at one time. Sometimes, I sat between his legs like I did the night he played “Crash Into Me” and I would sometimes try to learn. Other times, while lying in bed, he would rest his head on my belly and play that way. But my favorite way to be serenaded by Alden was curled up in his lap, with my head resting on his shoulder and my arms around his neck. It was an awkward position for him to play, but he never missed a note, and apparently, it was his favorite position, too.

  We spent Valentine’s Day in front of the fire in Alden’s apartment, eating and drinking, talking, and laughing. And kissing. And touching.

  Before going to Florida, I headed back to Philly to properly prepare for the weeks I’d be gone. Alden had to fly to Minnesota to work on some legal matters regarding Peyton, but when he returned, we spent a day in Philly before flying to Miami on a private jet owned by Frictitious.

  I was so glad to be in warm weather that I had decided to be bold and buy a bikini. I never thought I had the body for a bikini, but one of the sexiest men in the world couldn’t keep his hands off me. It was a total boost in self-confidence. I was being bold, but not stupid. It wasn’t a string bikini, and the bottoms were like boy shorts.

  I was also eager to put a thousand plus miles between Larson and myself. I had no idea how he had kept track of me like that, but I imagined I put a damper on his stalking by being so far away. That helped me to relax in a way I wasn’t able to do even in New York with Alden. I was going to pretend the whole affair hadn’t happened and that my ex wasn’t a psycho and just enjoy myself.

  “I’m telling you,” Alden grumbled as he picked up one of my books, “if a single guy even looks at you for more than two seconds, I’m breaking jaws.”

  “There are better bodies to look at in Miami than mine.” I sighed. “Trust me.”

  “I thought we went over this,” Alden said with a sigh. “You’re fucking beautiful and anyone with eyes can see that. Do we need another lesson in front of the mirror?”

  “No, we don’t need another lesson on how delusional you are,” I said dryly. “Read your book and be quiet.”

  “Hey, listen here, bossy bikini bottom,” he started, making me snicker. “Don’t make me smack your ass.”

  “Whose ass is getting smacked?” Hash asked, taking the seat on the other side of me.

  “Mine,” I said.

  “I’d join in on that ass smacking party.” He grinned.

  “I’m not above putting my fist in your jaw, Hash,” Alden warned. “Stop ogling my girl.”

  “Then your girl should put some damn clothes on.” Hash laughed. “At least the bruising is mostly gone.”

  “Yeah, it’s looking better every day,” I said, gently running a hand over my ribcage.

  “Hey, Face Plant, can you trail that hand over your tit, because that would be fucking hot,” Hash said and barely had time to get up before Alden was after him.

  “Boys,” I sighed and settled back in my seat and closed my eyes.

  “Miss Eddington?” a male voice asked gently.

  I thought maybe it was one of the guys that worked for the resort we were staying at, but when I opened my eyes and lowered my sunglasses, I immediately knew he was not from the resort. The staff at the resort dressed in light green and white. This guy was just wearing a pair of black swimming trunks and a tank.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, on my guard.

  He looked around quickly, probably looking for Alden before sitting down, facing me in Hash’s vacated chair.

  “I’m not going bullshit you, Miss Eddington,” he started quickly. “My name is Nathan Velacross. I’m with the Inquisitor magazine and I have a few questions for you.”

  The press had been approaching me since we were in Philly, but I usually blew them off, unless they asked me something in which I could respond to with humor, or when they asked me what I thought about Alden. I would tell them the truth, that I thought he was a peacock.

  “Look, if you want to ask me questions about Alden, you’re not getting any answers out of me. You need to go.”

  “Then you don’t care to comment on the allegations regarding Trisha Livingston and your boyfriend caught in a compromising position last week in the alley of a New York club?”

  Well. That caught my attention, but then again, that’s what he wanted. Velacross wanted me to react. That’s how the paps are.

  “That’s all you got?” I asked blandly. “That’s boring. Why don’t you spice it up a little, Velcro?”

  “Velacross,” he said nervously and then looked around for Alden. “So, you aren’t going to comment, Miss Eddington?”

  I slipped my glasses back into place, laid back down on the lounger, and closed my eyes. “There is nothing to comment on, Velcro,” I said nonchalantly and waved him away. “I wouldn’t still be here when Alden returns if I were you.”

  I heard him sigh heavily. “I’ll leave this with you along with my card, Miss Eddington. If you would like to comment on this story or share anything else with me, I’ll listen.”

  Something was laid carefully on my bare belly. I cringed and opened my eyes, ready to snap at him for coming so close to touching me, but he was already walking away. Muttering to myself, I plucked a business card and a flat piece of paper off my stomach. I was ready to crush the picture, but I froze for a moment, taking in the dark figures in the dark background. I pushed my sunglasses up again and peered closely at the photograph.

  My heart sped up. And then it stopp
ed.

  There was a timestamp in the bottom right corner of the picture: 1:57a.m. 2/16/2014.

  I had left for Philly the previous morning. I was in bed at 1:57a.m., staring blankly at the Kiera Knightley version of Pride and Prejudice. I was too terrified to fall asleep. Every sound I heard coming from the hallway, every footstep that passed by, I seized up. I was afraid that I would go to sleep and wake up to him in my room.

  Alden, however, at 1:57a.m., two days after Valentine’s Day, was in a back alley, scarcely lit. He was leaning up against a brick wall. Kneeling at his feet with his belt in her hands was Tricia Livingston. It appeared that Alden was about to get a blowjob.

  “Who the hell was that?” Alden demanded as he walked toward me. Hash followed not too far behind, shaking sand out of his short, spiky pink hair.

  I stood up on shaky legs as I crushed the card and picture inside of my hand. “No one,” I said. “Listen, I’m suddenly not feeling that great. I’m going to go inside and lay down.”

  “What?” Alden asked, staring at me. Even under his sunglasses, I knew he was studying me. “Who the hell was that, Noa? I’m not stupid. You were fine when I left and when I come back, some asshole is scurrying away, and you’re ‘suddenly not feeling that great.’ What the hell is going on?”

  My head felt like it was about to explode with all of his yammering.

  “Alden, just shut up!” I snapped as I picked up the bag I had carried out with me. “I’m going inside to lay the hell down.”

  “Fine,” he growled, grabbing his towel off the chair. “I’ll come with you.”

  “I don’t want you to come with me,” I said patiently and turned away from him.

  “See, man?” Hash started. “If you would have just let me smack her ass with you, none of this would be happening.”

  “Shut up, Hash,” I snapped over my shoulder.

  “Hey.” Alden grabbed my arm just as I reached our room.

  “Alden,” I growled in warning as I yanked my arm free.

  “Don’t fucking ‘Alden’ me,” he snapped. It was all the warning I had before he swept me into his arms.

  “I hate when a guy picks a woman up to make her comply!”

  “I hate when my woman doesn’t comply and makes me have to pick her up!”

  He tossed me onto the bed, and before I could even think about scrambling away, his body was on mine. He straddled my legs and pinned my arms above my head. My hand was forced open and Nathan’s crumpled card and the crumpled picture fell onto the bed. Alden’s eyes narrowed at them, but he didn’t release me to reach for them.

  “What’s that?” he asked, nodding his chin at the incriminating evidence.

  “A picture,” I answered snippily.

  “Of what?”

  “Of you being your typical slutty self. Look at the picture.”

  Slowly, reluctantly, Alden eased off me, sat on the edge of the bed, and picked up the crumpled picture. Several silent seconds ticked by before he made any movement or sound. He sighed, but then several more seconds ticked by without anything further.

  Why was he so still? Why was he looking at it for so long? Was it because it was real? It wasn’t a doctored photograph? Had he really done it?

  He made no real commitment to you, I had to remind myself. With that, I got up and retrieved the sundress I had taken out to wear later. I slipped it over my head and pushed my feet into a pair of flip-flops.

  “What are you doing?” Alden’s asked with alarm as he jumped up off the bed.

  “I’m going to the front desk to get my own room,” I said calmly as I looked around for my bag. I realized I must had left it in the living room and headed out the door.

  Alden was right on my heels.

  “Why the fuck are you doing that?” he demanded.

  I sighed before speaking, but didn’t look at him. I found my bag and pulled it onto my shoulder. “If you’re going to be doing things like that with other women, that’s your prerogative, but I’m not sharing a bed with you and you’re not touching me. I understand you’re this big rock star, and it must be hard to keep your dick in your pants around beautiful women throwing themselves at you, but I have some sense of propriety. I’ll be your friend. I’ll be your date for the galas, but that’s it.”

  “Noa, look at me,” he said pleadingly. “It’s not what it looks like, I promise you.”

  “It looks like a blowjob,” I said, walking toward the door.

  Strong arms circled around my waist and my back was pressed to his chest.

  “I know what the fuck it looks like, but it’s not that. I didn’t get head from her that night. Look at the picture, Noa.” He held it up with one hand while still holding me securely in his other arm. “Look at it,” he commanded.

  With a sigh, I looked.

  “My hand is on her fucking forehead, pushing her away. And look closely at my body language. I’m turned slightly away from her because I was about to walk away. I know it’s hard to see, but look at my face, Noa. Do I look like I’m getting ready to get a blowjob?”

  I looked carefully at all of his points. His hand was on her forehead, not in her hair as I had originally thought. He was also turned at an angle, like he was trying to wriggle away from her, and his handsome face was one of anger and…disgust.

  But…

  “How did she get your buckle undone then?” I asked him quietly. “If she wasn’t about to give you head and you weren’t at one point ready to receive it, why is your belt undone?”

  “Al was picking me up at the other end of the alley,” he explained. “I went out the back way so I would avoid the crowds. I had to take a piss. My jeans were too tight for me to simply just pull the zipper down and pull my dick out, so I had to unbuckle my belt. I was still pissing against the wall when Trish came out looking for me. I barely had time to shake it and stuff it back in my jeans before she reached me. I turned around without thinking to talk to her as I buckled back up, but she looked down, saw an opportunity, and embarrassed herself by taking it. I pushed her away, Noa. I was so pissed because she knows how I feel about you, I told her that night when she was last in the apartment.”

  I was silent for a minute as I took it all in. I hadn’t heard their conversation that night because I was having a meltdown, but he had yelled at her for just popping in.

  “You can’t just show up here whenever the fuck you feel like it.”

  “Why were you out with her?” I had not meant to ask that out loud and sound like a jealous girlfriend.

  “I wasn’t out with her,” Alden said softly as he balled the picture up in his hand. He tossed it aside onto the floor. “I was there to check up on Hash, because he was hanging with a couple of guys that are no good for him while he’s in recovery. I hung around until he found himself a couple of girls and left out the front door, and then I called Al and slipped out the back. She showed up a little while after I got there. Maybe she caught wind that I was there and that’s why she went. I don’t know for sure.”

  “Why did it take you so long to say something when you first saw it?” I asked, with a trace of doubt.

  “I was trying to figure out who the fuck took the picture.”

  “Did you figure it out?”

  I felt him shrug. “I thought I saw someone as I was heading to the limo, but I was a little drunk. I could have been seeing shit.”

  “What do you think you saw? That just sounds creepy,” I said, leaning back into him. I was beginning to relax. I believed his explanation about Trisha. James had told me that she was willing to be hurt ten times over just for the off chance that Alden would give her what she sought. It did leave a bit of a sour taste in my mouth, though. If my relationship with Alden continued to grow, how many times was she going to try?

  “I thought I saw a guy with blond hair,” Alden said casually. “But like I said, I could have been seeing things.”

  My heart stuttered.

  No. No way, Noa. Now you’re just being paranoid.
There’s no way that Alden’s phantom was really Larson.

  Alden’s cell phone rang. If the ring tone had been anyone else’s, he probably would have ignored it, but it was Peyton’s ring tone. His conversations with his brother were few and far between. He looked really torn about walking away from me to answer the call, but the truth is that I wasn’t quite ready to hear him finish that sentence.

  “Are you and I good?” he asked close to my ear.

  “Yeah.” I nodded and patted his arm. “We’re good. I’m sorry I overreacted.”

  “At least I know that you won’t put up with anyone trying to take your man,” Alden said teasingly and kissed the top of my head.

  He released me and hurried into the bedroom to answer Peyton’s call.

  I picked the picture up off the floor and threw it in the trashcan. I stood in front of the sliding glass doors for a couple of minutes, trying to shake the unease that was creeping into my bones. It couldn’t have been Larson. There was no way it was Larson. Larson wouldn’t creep around the city’s back alleys, following Alden around. Hell, in the very least, he’d hire someone to do that dirty work.

  Yet, I couldn’t calm my worried nerves.

  I went to find my own phone. While Alden was talking to his brother, I could take my mind off Larson and give Kristy a call, or Sahara. Greg had not come with us to Florida because he was still in New York. I was curious about that. Maybe I could call Tucker and find out what was up with him and the mystery woman that he wanted to make squirt. I hadn’t spoken to him for more than a few minutes since lunch that day. Once I got talking to one of my friends, I would again forget all about Larson.

  I found my phone tucked in my beach bag in the bedroom. Alden slapped my ass as I walked by without faltering once in his conversation to Peyton. Grinning as I walked away, I unlocked my phone and tapped the icon for my messages. My brother and my agent both sent me text messages that I decided I’d answer later. I clicked on a message that had a number but no contact name attached. Seconds later the phone fell from my fingers onto the hardwood floor. The screen shattered.

  “I told you to put a cover on that damn thing,” Alden said walking toward me.