Tangled Hearts (Evermore 4 Book Box Set)

by ANDREA SMITH

  “Bullshit,” he said, pulling me up against him, his fingers tilted my chin upward so that I was forced to look into his eyes. I knew Seth wasn’t going to let it go. He knew me so well. Again. Or maybe, still.

  I sighed and turned my face from him, my fingers plucking at some lint on his hoodie. “It’s just that we’ve not talked about some of this stuff yet. And maybe now’s the time we do it,” I said softly.

  He nodded, his eyes still locked on mine. “Let’s do it,” he said. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and led me to the bedroom. I climbed into his bed and watched as he peeled his clothes off down to his boxers and joined me.

  He pulled me against him so my head was resting against his chest. “Tell me, Neely. Put it out there, babe.”

  And so I did. I told him why I’d left early that summer and left the note and his promise ring behind. I filled him in on the conversation his mother Laura had had with me. He stayed quiet even after I finished.

  I finally spoke again. “I didn’t want to mess things up for you, Seth. We were so young, and your mom, well she was worried like any mother would be in that situation. She had a point, you know?”

  “Fuck her,” he growled, sitting up in bed, and running his hands through his thick mass of hair. “She had no fucking right to interfere with us like that, no right at all,” he growled before he launched himself up and out of the bed. He moved towards his cell phone that he’d placed on his dresser, and when he glanced at his watch, I knew exactly what he had in mind.

  “No,” I said, “Don’t call her.”

  “It’s not that fucking late,” he snapped, and then immediately his face softened and he shook his head, “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  “I know. But it’s not about the time. What I shared just now is old news, Seth. It’s not about opening up old wounds and laying blame, don’t you get it?”

  “But she was out of line, Neely, totally out of line.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. She was being a mother first and foremost. She was showing her love and concern for you. Unlike my mother who did what she did for totally self-serving purposes,” I scoffed.

  His brows knitted in confusion and he took a couple of steps towards me, his arms outstretched. “What are you talking about? Not following.”

  I sat up in bed and drew my legs up, resting my chin on my knees. “Seth, I found out a few years back about the letters you sent to me—the ones that went to my grandparents house. I never received them. Mama and I didn’t even live there at the time. We had our own place.”

  He didn’t say anything, so I continued.

  “I didn’t know until I went back to Tennessee back in August that Mama had sent you that letter. The one that was typed up apparently. I guess I kind of guilted her into admitting she’d kept your letters from me, and well, in the process, she admitted she’d sent a letter to you under my name. Seth, she doesn’t remember what she put in that letter, but she did tell me that if I ever talked to you again, to let you know that she was sorry.”

  The room was so quiet, and for a moment, I wondered if he even knew what the hell I was talking about, but surely he had to know, right? I mean that was the reason he’d been so pissed off at me, wasn’t it?

  “Do you remember the letter?” I asked quietly, my eyes searching his face for confirmation.

  He nodded, his face looked as if it was carved from granite.

  “What did it say?” I asked quietly, not really sure I wanted to know.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he replied, his voice gruff. “None of that shit matters. We can’t change what other people did to us. We’re past it, remember?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Yes we are,” I confirmed. “So let’s leave it all there, okay? I don’t want any of the past drama pissing all over our future.”

  “I agree, baby,” he said with a sigh. He came back over to the bed and took his place next to me. He reached over and turned off the lamp on his bedside table, before scooping me up into his arms. “Let’s put all of it out of our minds. Because you know what I think?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “I think we still have a lot of lost time to make up.”

  “Oh we do,” I conceded softly, right before his lips claimed mine.

  “And woman, I want you to get on birth control soon,” he said, his voice deep with his lust and need, as his hand reached over to grab condoms from the nightstand, “Because I need to feel you with every inch of my dick, got it?”

  A giggle escaped me at his choice of words. “You are so romantic, Seth,” I deadpanned, my arms now laced around his strong neck. “But message received.”

  And those were the last words spoken between us just before my man—my star claimed and possessed me with his strong body and his loving heart.

  Chapter 8

  New Year’s Eve 2000

  Seth and I had been spending a crazy amount of time together over the past few months. It helped that he was between jobs and had a lot of free time, not to mention that my work was freelance.

  There had only been a couple of times I had to bag our plans last minute when an opportunity presented itself that required my expertise. Luckily, those incidents hadn’t prompted a lot of questions from him, which in turn would have required explanation from me.

  Both occasions had garnered some front page exposure for Grace Evangelista, and some impressive cash in my bank account. I wasn’t sure how long I could continue keeping my work identity a secret from Seth. It wasn’t as if he would be angry with what I did for a living…

  No. Strike that. He would be appalled, and I knew it. Not because of any personal axe he had to grind with the paparazzi, because he had none up to this point. No, Seth would feel that I’d sold out; that I hadn’t really followed my dreams or aspirations. That I’d settled for the lure of money over the satisfaction of seeing my creative expression shared with the world. And that I’d practiced the very thing I had once found despicable. When had hypocrisy become acceptable to me?

  Seth was passionate about his craft the way I used to be passionate about mine. He’d worked hard to realize his dream. And me? I had allowed mine to slip from me once Seth had disappeared from my life and I lost sight of all that had been important up until then.

  But things didn’t have to remain that way. I’d started sketching again in my free time. And Seth was no longer the subject of every sketch. Oh, that wasn’t to say I hadn’t sketched him, but it was different now.

  He’d grown into a handsome man. The boyish looks were gone, replaced by sinewy lines, muscular angles, and bold expressions. Seth was a work of art in his own right. I loved sketching his body when he wasn’t aware of what I was doing.

  I’d sketch him while he was on his treadmill; or while he bench-pressed in his weight room, which was actually the spare bedroom in his apartment, and sometimes while he dozed off on the sofa while watching Monday Night Football.

  He’d taken me back to that art gallery last weekend in La Jolla. The one his mother had taken us to when we were kids. It was like seeing it again for the first time.

  “Have you thought about going into art for a living, Neely?” he asked me while walking hand in hand through one of the galleries there.

  “There’s a reason they’re called ‘starving artists,’ Seth. Remember what your dad said?” I teased. “Besides, how exactly would I make a living at it? I didn’t get my Bachelor’s, I’m not even qualified to teach preschoolers.”

  “I didn’t mean teach, silly,” he replied, “You paint, you sculpt, you do charcoal impressionist stuff. I think you should have your own gallery.”

  I squeezed his hand, “I love your faith in me, Seth. And I love that I’m sketching and painting again, but that’s a far cry from being ready to open my own gallery, don’t you think?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he replied, “You must have connections with other artists who would love to have their work on disp
lay. Maybe all you need is some capital and someone who believes in you.”

  I stopped in my tracks, and Seth felt the pull on his hand as I did. He turned back to look at me.

  “What exactly is your deal, Drake?” I asked wryly. “Are you trying to badger me into a career change? I’ve got bills to pay here.”

  He tossed me one of his enigmatic smiles, and his blue eyes sparkled in the sun-drenched gallery as he pulled me along behind him until we reached a marble bench.

  “Sit,” he ordered, dropping my hand. “I’ve got some news to share.”

  I obeyed, taking a seat and waited for him to do the same. Only he didn’t. He knelt down in front of me, and clasped my hands in his. “I got the part. I’m playing Taz in the movie, and baby, it’s a whole lot of money for us. It’s a two movie deal.”

  “Wait. What? Two movies?”

  He nodded his head enthusiastically. “Yeah, there’s going to be a sequel to this one called Taz. Apparently it’s a book that came after Love Plus One, and focuses on some terrorist shit. Anyway, the production company liked the script and had no problem getting financing to make it into a movie. They film back-to-back. Filming for LPO starts in February, babe. We are set.”

  I was stunned—not because Seth got the part, I always believed that he would, but his references to ‘us’ and ‘we’—that part was kind of fuzzy for me.

  “Babe,” I said, squeezing his hands in mine, “I am so excited for you! I’m not surprised though, you nailed that part. Congratulations! This is fantastic news for you!”

  He interrupted me. “No—this is fucking fantastic news for us,” he said, “I couldn’t have done it—I couldn’t have nailed that part if it hadn’t been for you being there. Remember how bad I was until the casting director called you up? You are my muse, babe. Just like you said I was yours for your art, well it’s the same damn thing. I can’t explain it, Neely, but I know that it’s real.”

  “Seth, slow down,” I said laughing, “Look, you won that part because you are the best person to play it. I didn’t do anything, you proved yourself. I was just there for your moral support.”

  “Don’t say that, Neely,” he warned. “We are perfect for one another. I won’t argue that any further, because I know it’s the truth. I can see it in what I do and in what you do, so accept it, babe.”

  “I guess we’re each other’s lucky charms.”

  He snorted, “Don’t play it down like that, you know what I’m talking about. We’ve had this chemistry since Day One and you fucking know it. It’s what’s between us. Luck has nothing to do with it because it only happens when we are in sync, you know?”

  I wanted to say ‘no’ that I didn’t ascribe to things that weren’t visual or concrete or explainable, but the truth was, I couldn’t because I knew everything he believed I did as well. It was a connection that worked, and it was stronger than logic and more powerful than prayer. It was just there and it was ours.

  “Yeah,” I replied softly, “I totally get it. So, I guess we’re going to be apart for a while then, huh? How long does it take to film a movie?”

  “It depends. This is my first time, remember? But about the apart thing…not gonna happen.”

  My eyes widened as his words sunk in, mainly because he said them with so much certainty and conviction. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that I want you with me while the film is shooting, that’s what,” he said, crossing his arms in front of him.

  I noticed that his Adam’s apple bobbed a bit with his last declaration and I knew why. Seth Drake had never gone alpha on me. Not when we were kids. Not when we were teenagers. And sure as hell not since we’d been back together. It wasn’t his style, and I wasn’t sure if this was some latent personality trait that had suddenly decided to surface, or if he was treading on unfamiliar ground.

  I decided the latter was more than likely the case, but yeah, I was going to test it to make sure. I stood up and faced him. “Listen Seth,” I said, my voice calm but succinct, “You aren’t going to start dropping demands on me like that. Now maybe you had Julia trained as your lap dog, but I don’t roll that way.”

  His face never lost the determination he was feeling. He cleared his throat. “Neely, I’m putting my foot down, babe. You are coming with me while I do this film, because there’s no fucking way I’ll be apart from you again.”

  I stood my ground. I crossed my arms in front of me to match his stance, and stared him down with my eyes. And then I did something totally unexpected.

  I cracked up.

  I couldn’t help it. I giggled uncontrollably. The humor was definitely lost on Seth as he maintained his dominant pose.

  If you only knew how many times as kids that he’d allowed me to have my way; all the times that I had called the shots, and he’d taken it in stride.

  It was his turn.

  I got that.

  And the fact that he was pulling his alpha side on me for purely the right reason didn’t get past me. “Say please,” I chided.

  I saw his mouth turn up just slightly as he fought to keep it serious. “Please, Ms. Evans?”

  “Okay then,” I conceded. “I’ll see what I can do. But please let’s table any talk of my making a career change until after we get through these two movies, fair enough?”

  “You got it,” he replied, leaning down and kissing the tip of my nose. “Come on, I read where there’s this traveling Matisse exhibit in Gallery 4 that I really want to see.”

  And we’d spent the rest of the afternoon oohing and ahhing over Henri Matisse’s Fauvism exhibit.

  My attention was brought back to the present when Seth banged through the door, his arms full of grocery bags. “Can you take these, babe?” he asked, “I got a couple more out in the car.”

  I grabbed the bags from him and headed to the kitchen. He’d certainly bought enough food for just the two of us. We’d decided to stay in tonight and let the drunken crazies have the road.

  I started unpacking the bags and putting the stuff away when Seth returned with two cloth bags I knew contained his wine selections.

  “And some champagne for us to toast,” he said, setting them down on the countertop. “I know you don’t drink as a rule, but you will share a glass or two of the bubbly with me, right?”

  “Hmm, I remember the last New Year’s I shared some bubbly with you,” I quipped.

  “Yeah,” he said with a smirk, “That was some night as I recall. You know, it totally floored me that you were still a…,” his voice dropped off.

  “Virgin?” I supplied.

  “Well…yeah.”

  “Why did that surprise you?” I asked reaching past him to grab the stuff that needed to go into the refrigerator.

  He shrugged. “I guess it was something in that letter. The one you didn’t write,” he replied.

  “Oh. I’m sure Mama cooked up something good in her drunken stupor,” I commented.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said, coming up behind me and wrapping his strong arms around me. “I’m glad I was the first.”

  I wasn’t comfortable with where the conversation was headed. I didn’t want to get into sharing information about who we’d slept with because for one thing, mine was a very short list and except for Seth, not impressive at all.

  “What are we having for dinner?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “I thought I’d grill some steaks on the deck. Can you put a salad together?”

  “Sure thing,” I replied giving him a smile. “And for the record, Mr. Drake, I’m so happy that we’re ringing in the millennium in style. No gaudy Hollywood parties. No loud nightclubs. Just you and me here for a quiet dinner, a little bubbly, and a marathon fuck-a-thon ringing out the twentieth century, and raging in the twenty-first with multiple orgasms betwixt us, right?”

  “Betwixt? Did you really just say betwixt my hot little Southern minx?” he asked, a salacious grin gracing his full, sensual
lips. “Yeah, I remember. But now tomorrow is another story. We will be partying, woman. I can hardly wait to show you off.”

  I laughed as I pulled down the salad bowl and tongs from the cupboard. “I’m sure I’ll simply dazzle them,” I said, giving him an eye roll.

  “You will. You dazzle me every day, babe.”

  And for the rest of the night and into the new year it was like Seth and I were the only two people in the world and I loved it that way best.

  Chapter 9

  New Year’s Day 2000

  “Can you zip me up, Seth?” I asked turning my back to him and lifting my hair up in the back so that he could pull the zipper up on my slinky black cocktail dress. “And hook me too, please?” I added.

  “My pleasure,” he growled, pulling the tongue of the zipper up. I felt his fingers playing with the hook at the top. Once I was hooked, his lips found the sensitive skin at the nape of my neck, and he placed several soft kisses there until I released my hair.

  “You’re no fun,” he complained giving me a playful swat on the ass. “Whoa, that dress leaves nothing to the imagination, babe.”

  I twirled around to face him, and then immediately looked down. “Do I need a slip?”

  He smirked, “I don’t think you could fit a slip between your sweet ass and that dress,” he commented.

  I turned to check myself out in the mirror. “Are you saying it’s too tight? Have I gained weight?” I was turning to the side to see if in fact I needed to change into something else for this party we were going to that I wasn’t all that excited about to begin with. But that was another story.

  “Babe, it fits exactly the way it’s supposed to, trust me. It’s hugging every damn one of your sexy curves.”

  “So, I look okay?” I asked. “I don’t want to feel out of place. I’ve never been to a party with studio executives—that’s who will be at this thing, right?”

  “You look awesome, and yes, some studio execs will be there, along with some actors and actresses, but Neely they’re people just like you and me so stop worrying, alright?”