The Real Heat

by Aurora, Lexi

  “Jesus, Adam, is this your doing?” he asked dully.

  "No way, man. What do you take me for?" Adam slurred, his eyes wide and offended. Jackass or not, Wesley thought he believed him. He didn't think Adam was malicious or anything. Just a bit of a prick. Also, Wesley thought Adam was a little afraid of Megan. Most people were both men and women alike. Megan had a way of getting to people, for better or for worse. She was hot as hell, making men want her and making women feel like shit. The two of them had gone back and forth for way too long, and she'd done her share of making him feel like shit, too. He always went back. This time he had no intention of doing so. This time he had Liza to make things clear to Megan, for when she decided she wanted to go another round. It was a hell of a plan; only he hadn't really planned what he would do when he had to deal with Megan face to face. Now, he didn't have a choice.

  "Truly, man," Adam said from beside him, his face turned towards Megan, too. "I had nothing to do with this. She's hot as hell, but she scared the shit out of me. You know this."

  "I do," Wesley nodded, regretting some of his harsh feelings towards the guy. It didn't change his disgust over the way Adam had acted with Liza, and he fully expected Liza to come up in conversation when the Megan crisis was averted. At the moment, though, the two of them were in it together.

  “Wesley! Where the hell have you been?”

  Megan didn't exactly yell, but most of the people in the crowded bar turned to look at her anyway. That was how things went with Megan. It was the way she liked, it, too. Wesley could see it on her face now, and his stomach turned. She was hot. Adam was right about that. She looked especially hot tonight in her white dress, so tight it could have been painted onto her body. Her hair had been many different colors since the two of them had met, but it was platinum blonde now and piled up on top of her head. Her mouth was cotton candy pink, and her eyes were crazy. He used to think that look was sexy as hell. Now it only made him tired. She must have seen it, too, because she stomped towards him with a scowl and a mission on her face.

  "Megan. What are you doing here?" It was a stupid question. Megan was here for him. It was the way she operated. When the two of them had been a ‘couple,’ whatever the hell that meant, she didn't give a shit. When they were done, she was all hands on deck. Especially when he was the one to end it, like this time. Although looking at her face, Wesley guessed there was something else going on here. Megan looked more ruffled than he'd seen her before. She wasn't typically the type for that kind of upset. Something was undoubtedly up.

  "Wow. Nice greeting, Wesley. You act like you're not happy to see me," Megan said, her voice high and nasal. That wasn't good. He knew that voice. It meant she'd been into something – something that was no good. Ever since she'd really gotten into modeling, she'd had all kinds of indulgences at her fingertips. Things that gave her too much energy. Things that let her drink long past the point of normal intoxication. Things that helped her get just a little bit thinner than the rest. It wasn't the version of Megan he enjoyed and most definitely not the one he wanted to deal with now. She was ready for a fight. She was spoiling for one.

  “This isn’t the right place for this. If you want to talk about something, come to the office,” he said calmly.

  “No way. I’m not coming to the office. Are you kidding me? Like I’m applying for a job?”

  “I told you, this isn’t the place.”

  “It’s because of her, isn’t it? It’s because of that bitch!”

  For a minute, the whole room really did stop talking. The word ‘bitch’ hit an impossible pitch, and it couldn't help but be noticed. Wesley stopped too. She could only mean one person. It was exactly what he'd been going for. He had seen the pictures on the cover of the gossip magazines. He hadn't seen them, but there had been photographers at the wrap party. And what did photogs do? They took pictures. They took pictures of him and Liza because she was the woman he had been with and she was new. She was not Megan, and that was reason enough for him and Liza to make the cover. Megan had seen it because she was a voracious reader of that crap. And now she was here, ready to duke it out.

  "Hey, let's all take a step back, alright?" Adam laughed his playboy laugh. Megan glared at him, and he held his hands up. Mea culpa and warding off all at the same time. Wesley recognized the move; he'd done it plenty of times himself, back when he still wanted to try and make things work.

  “No, I want to know about her,” she insisted, “I want to know about that big bitch. She must really be something, huh? Certainly taking up your time. Too busy to answer a text message now.”

  "Stop it, Megan. Don't do this. It's unattractive," Wesley said coldly. It was just about the worst thing he could say to her, and he knew it. He almost felt bad for using it against her. Almost, but not quite. Her response was too predictable. She went from pissed to sugar-sweet on the turn of a dime. She pushed closer to where he sat on the stool and pressed her body against his side. He felt her heart beating too fast, and the heat of her overly exposed skin. She was selling sex and a month or two ago he would have bought it, hook, line, and sinker. Now her diminishing frame wasn't a temptation.

  "Come on, baby; I don't want it to be like this. Don't you think it's time for us to make up?" she said in a sing-songy voice. She was pouting now. He hated it. He realized now that he'd always hated it; he'd just been too into the sex to realize it.

  "Stop it," he said, pushing her off of him. He barely touched her, really, but she stumbled backward into Adam. He caught her and looked at Wesley with surprise. It was probably supposed to make him feel bad. Instead, it only made him think that Adam and Megan sort of deserved each other. Megan's face twitched again, just as quickly as before. It twisted into a snarl, and she took a step back in Wesley's direction.

  “This is a joke, right? You can’t seriously want her over me. Have you actually looked at her? Adam, you were there, tell me I’m right,” she said, looking over her shoulder for confirmation. It was a good way to get him talking. Wesley knew Adam had been dying to talk about Liza. Not because he didn’t think she was hot enough but because he wanted her for himself.

  “She was different than your usual type, Wesley,” he said, his voice overly friendly, “you know that’s true. I told that chick the same thing, cross my heart.”

  “See?” Megan crowed, exalted, “That’s what I’m saying! She is so a step down. I get it; you were making a point. You don’t have to do that anymore. I’ll be good from now on. Promise.”

  “No, you won’t. We aren’t doing this. I’m not doing this with you anymore. I told you that before.”

  “But, Wesley-”

  “No. I’m going. You two have a good time. Seriously. I don’t care. But I’m leaving.”

  Wesley looked for Milton and saw that he'd been watching the whole thing; of course, he had been. Wesley wouldn't have expected anything less. The two of them nodded at each other and Wesley got up to go. There was a good chance that Adam and Megan would hook up at some point. It would have pissed him the hell off before, but it didn't mean anything to him now. What did piss him off was the way they had talked about Liza. Liza, whose body he could still feel when he shut his eyes and concentrated just right. More than that, he didn't like the way he didn't like it. He didn't want to feel anything about anyone. That was the point in Liza's strange position to begin with. He was done with that shit. He was done with Megan, and he was done with the rest of them, too. He just needed some time to let his heart catch up with his head.

  Chapter Ten

  Liza Morris

  “I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand. What exactly are you asking from me?”

  “Did I wake you up? I did, didn’t I? Sorry, I’m an asshole.”

  “No! No, you didn’t. I was just lost in a book.”

  Liza winced a little at the sound of the lie. She had most definitely been asleep, but the idea of admitting it to Wesley was absolutely mortifying. For starters, a quick glance at the clock told h
er it was only eleven-thirty in the morning. For another thing, it felt weird lying to him, especially when she already had such a big lie hovering over her. The end-all, be-all kind of lie – the kind people probably didn't forgive you for. Melony's advice had been to wait until she got a firm diagnosis from a doctor, then to milk Wesley for all he was worth. In Wesley's case, that was a hell of a lot. Maybe it wasn't the worst advice in the world. It didn't strike Liza as particularly ethical, but nothing about her current position really did. Ethical went out the window when you agreed to an Indecent Proposal situation, ethics kind of flew out the window. Melony's take was probably the smart play. Instead, Liza had spent the last three weeks exhausted and trying not to sleep twenty hours a day. She hadn't heard from Wesley, but it hadn't surprised her. He'd made it clear that he was a busy man and that their "dates" wouldn't always be consistent. Plus, she had seen their picture on the cover of Today magazine while waiting in line at the grocery store. If what Wesley wanted was to create the public illusion of a relationship to get his ex off his back, he was getting it. For all she knew, he wouldn't need her at all come a couple of months from now. The butterflies in her stomach didn't appear to care about that, though. They were only happy to hear his voice.

  “Okay, okay, fine. A book never crossed my mind, how’s that for sad?” Wesley laughed, blissfully unaware of the torment speeding a mile a minute through her head.

  “No, it’s not sad,” she laughed, hoping she didn’t sound as exhausted as she felt.

  "That's kind of you to say, but I think we both know who the intellectual is in the relationship. Or...shit, you know what I mean, right?" He laughed nervously. She did know what he meant; of course, she did. It was all in the contract he'd drawn up before this mess had gotten started. It didn't make it sting any less, though. The butterflies didn't know the difference between real and fake.

  "I know what you mean. I still don't understand what you want from me right now, though. Could you clear that part up?" She was doing her best to use her all business voice. It made her sound stiff and prudish. She didn't like it but on the other hand, a healthy dose of prude on that first night wouldn't have been such a bad idea.

  “Right,” he said quickly, mimicking her tone, “enough dicking around. Sorry. I have to go to Austin for the weekend. I want you to go with me. If you’re available, that is.”

  “Okay, I guess I’m available, but why? That’s the part I still don’t get.”

  “Because. You’re supposed to be my girlfriend. I’m guessing you’ve seen-”

  "I've seen them," she interrupted. She didn't want to talk about those pictures with Wesley; she didn't want to go into the details of how well they were pulling off their public misdirection. She most definitely didn't want to get into the many comparisons being made between her and Megan. She thought she would rather have needles dug into her nail beds than get into the speculation of Wesley's drastic change in "physical type." If those paparazzi freaks thought she was bigger now, just wait until they got a look at her nine months’ pregnant. They were liable to drop dead of coronaries.

  "Good, then you know it's going according to plan. I won't ask you to take a trip like this again if you don't like and you obviously don't have to come if you really don't want to. I think it'll drive the point home, though. I saw Megan the other day and-"

  “It’s okay, Wesley. I’ll go.”

  "Will you?" he asked a little too loudly. And was that genuine excitement in his voice? God, she wanted it to be. She wanted it a little too much to be able to trust her own perspective. It was probably just for her benefit; another of their mutual lies. Either way, she was going, and she was going to tell him about the baby. No time like the present, right?

  LIZA WAS TEMPTED TO call back and change her mind at least three dozen times before Wesley arrived to pick her up. Blurring more lines seemed like a bad idea. She had already blurred, so many the idea of boundaries felt like a distant memory. Every time she went to pick up her phone, though, she thought about what Wesley had started to say: when he'd seen Megan. When he'd seen Megan the other day. It drove her crazy, that incomplete sentence. She was dying to know the details, and it was killing her to think about him seeing his ex at all. It was why she didn't cancel. It was why she met Wesley at the quaint private airstrip even though she far from loved flying. She sat in beside him in the tiny plane and thought about every movie she had ever seen in which a plane crashed. It was nauseating, but it was exhilarating, too. Because she was doing something she'd never done before and she was doing it with Wesley so close she could practically taste him. Just the two of them and the baby growing inside of her. She thought she would regret the trip and was surprised by how wrong she turned out to be. She'd never been to Austin before and instantly regretted all of the time she hadn't yet spent there. It was surprisingly beautiful, with a deep, cool river running through its heart and row upon row of dark green trees. The whole city smelled like cedar, and everywhere she and Wesley walked people smiled and said hello. He held her hand, their fingers laced together like it was the most normal thing in the world. Every time she took a breath she wanted to tell him about the life growing inside of her. Every time she opened her mouth her heart jumped up to block it so that no sound could come out. She had always been afraid to speak her mind: to her parents when she'd done something bad or wanted something she didn't think they were willing to give, but nothing came close to comparing. She wanted to tell him everything. She didn't want to ruin such a perfect afternoon bleeding into just as perfect an evening. It went by so quickly that she never even thought about their sleeping arrangements until they arrived at their hotel. When Wesley pulled up to the boutique hotel in their rented convertible, panic threatened to invade her stupidly contented thoughts.

  “Would it be okay with you if I just wait here while you check in? Would that be alright?” she asked timidly.

  "What's the matter? You embarrassed to be seen with me?" He grinned, leaning over the top of his already shut door. His hair fell over his brow, and to Liza, he looked heartbreakingly like James Dean. She wanted to slide across the middle console and kiss him, not because they were putting on a show but because she just wanted to. She clasped her hands in her lap, then locked them between her knees just in case they decided to be rebellious.

  “No, not at all. I’m just tired. I’ve been feeling really tired lately.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, a look of real concern on his face that only made her feel guilty, “I heard it on the phone. I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

  “No, please don’t say that. I’m glad I came. This city is sort of great, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it sort of is. I’ll be back in a jiff, okay?” he said, then trotted off to get them settled. Liza couldn’t help it; she watched him go and imagined what it would be like if the two of them were a real couple instead of one for show. There would be many trips like this one. Trips to far off places she had only dreamed about, too. There would be long, lazy afternoons and nights spent tangled in crisp white sheets while they drank each other in.

  “And a baby, too,” she whispered to herself, “don’t forget that part. Can’t forget that.”

  It was enough to derail the fantasies before they got too far off the ground and when Wesley jogged back up to the car, she was only sitting there, subdued.

  “Ready?” he asked, his eyes still concerned but a charming smile on his face.

  "Sure, ready. Lead the way." She smiled in return. He helped her out of the car, holding her door like a genuine gentleman, and held her hand again while leading her down a flower-lined pathway. The hotel really was beautiful, especially beneath the deep purple night sky. The sound of shrieks and splashing came from some unseen pool, as did an acoustic set from the outdoor bar and restaurant. Liza shuddered at the thought he might ask if she wanted to go for a drink. How to turn down the alcohol without raising suspicion? He didn't though, didn't say anything, in fact, and when she glanced at his face,
he looked like he was someplace far away. Like maybe there was something secret going on in his head, too.

  "This is it," he said, finally breaking the silence, "kind of cute, huh?" She nodded her head because it was. This was one of those hotels that made you wish you had a different kind of life: a boutique life, with a pretty wooden door and orange rocking chairs sitting on either side.

  “Very cute. I love it, actually.”

  “Good. I was hoping that you would.”

  He opened the door and let the two of them inside. It was just as cute on the inside as it was on the outside, a little sitting room with a bright yellow mid-century modern couch beside the door and one of those adorable vintage-style fridges. The bathroom could be accessed through a barn door and in the middle of the concrete floor were the beds. Beds, plural. Beds, as in two. She looked up quickly, wanting to see if this was part of the plan or if Wesley was just as surprised as she was. If he noticed, he didn't let on. He took both of their overnight bags and set one on each bed. Like they were strangers who just happened to be sharing a room together for a night.

  “Why don’t you use the bathroom first? I can see that you’re still tired.”

  "Thanks," she answered, trying not to sound as disappointed as she felt, "I'll be quick."

  She slunk into the bathroom and slid the door shut, her bag slung over her shoulder. The door was cute, but now that she was inside the stupid bathroom she realized that she could hear everything.

  “Shit,” she breathed, trying not to panic.

  “Everything okay?” he called from the other room.

  "Fine, just stubbed my toe," she called back, rolling her eyes and fighting the urge to bust out laughing. There was her confirmation that there was zero privacy. She turned the faucet on, thought for a moment, then turned it up as high as it would go. She got ready for bed quickly, trying not to let herself conjure up memories of middle school summer camp when everyone had been developing crushes, and none of them had been on her. She wasn't that girl anymore. Whatever else was going on, she wasn't that girl. She and Wesley weren't a couple and wouldn't ever be, but he had wanted her all the same. He was one of the hottest guys on tv, and he had wanted her. Whatever his response when she got up the nerve to tell him about the baby, that part would always be true.