Recovery

by JC Harroway

MY flight to Los Angeles took ten hours—plenty of time to over-analyse my weekend with Nathan. We’d parted on good terms, neither one of us willing to articulate or even acknowledge that something had changed between us.

  I capitulated on his offer, accepting the hospitality. I didn’t want Jess’s holiday ruined by intrusive paparazzi and when her happy and excited face came into view in the arrivals hall, I knew I’d made the right decision. Jess had her own demons to battle and didn’t need my drama on top of her own.

  Clear blue skies greeted us as we climbed into a waiting town car. The drive along wide, palm tree-lined streets was both surreal and thrilling. I gasped when the iconic Hollywood sign came into view, gleaming in the sunshine.

  Nathan’s home was situated in Los Feliz, a hillside neighbourhood close to Hollywood and encompassing part of the majestic Santa Monica Mountains. We passed chic, colourful cafés and retro boutiques, their assortment of vintage treasures spilling out onto the street.

  As the car climbed, the gated driveways became farther spaced and the houses more affluent. I craned my neck to peer out of the rear window at the stunning city and ocean views sprawled below us.

  ‘We’re here,’ Jess said, squeezing my hand and jumping up and down in her seat. She’d been ecstatic when I’d told her of Nathan’s offer of hospitality, insisting that for her part she was overjoyed to accept.

  We passed through wrought-iron gates set into tall stone pillars, ominously topped with security cameras. A long and winding tree-lined driveway ended with a large turning circle and the house itself came into view.

  ‘Oh wow!’ Jess’s eyes widened, her jaw slack. ‘We’ve hit the holiday jackpot, Soph.’ She turned her gleaming smile on me and grabbed for the door handle.

  While the driver unloaded our cases from the boot, we stood transfixed by the view. Spanish colonial in style and double storey, the house had a low-pitched, red tiled roof and a creamy yellow stone façade. The windows were arched, with wrought-iron balconies, and columns flanked the entranceway. Lush greenery dotted with palm trees surrounded the house, creating a tranquil and private oasis.

  I was Elizabeth Bennett catching my first glimpse of Pemberley. Part of me wished Mr Darcy would round the corner with his roguish smile and tight britches.

  ‘C’mon. Let’s go for a swim.’ Jess linked her arm through mine, tugging me into motion.

  Yes—a cool off in the pool would dampen my Jane Austen-fuelled fantasies.

  ‘And then, I want all the earth-shattering details. And if he’s magnificent in bed and he owns this magnificent house, I’m going to drown you, lucky bitch.’

  ***

  ‘You like him, don’t you?’ Jess lifted a lazy hand from the sun lounger she was sprawled upon and reached for a glass of ice-cold virgin margarita.

  ‘He’s okay, I suppose.’ I kept my face neutral, relieved to have my sunglasses to hide behind. ‘His taste in real estate is a little extravagant.’ I cast my gaze beyond the edge of the infinity pool to the expansive views of LA below.

  She wouldn’t let me trivialise this. Once Jess made up her mind to be serious, she was formidable. She didn’t even snigger. ‘I understand. He scares you.’

  I scoffed, brazening it out. ‘Of course he does. You were there in Queenstown when those reporters chased us. Who wants that in their life?’

  ‘I don’t mean his lifestyle scares you. He scares you. He’s different from you. Life with him would be wild, exciting, unpredictable. You need predictability.’

  I winced. My friend knew me well and her observations were spot on. ‘Are you saying I’m boring?’

  ‘Of course not. I get it. You have a responsible job—you grew up needing to be sensible, reliable, the good girl. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re an amazing woman and all that makes you who you are. I’m just saying I understand why he’s a risk for you.’

  The conversation was turning heavy. ‘Hey, I take risks. I just climbed a mountain. Anyway, he’s a risk for anyone—his life is insane. The only reason we had any peace last weekend was because we were rock climbing in the middle of nowhere and he switched his phone off. The minute he turned it back on in the car on the way home, it went berserk. Women paw him wherever he goes.’ I shuddered. ‘Imagine strangers touching your fella all the time, kissing him?’

  Silence settled. Had Jess nodded off? No such luck.

  ‘Are you going to see him again?’

  My stomach lurched up, colliding with my erratically beating heart. Nathan and I had parted, making no plans to meet up again. He hadn’t suggested further dates, simply pulling me close for a goodbye kiss that made my toes curl and my soul sad that it might be our last.

  His schedule was about to get crazy, and once I began my new job, I’d have no time for posh frocks and red carpets. My hollow stomach rebelled against the idea I might never see him again, unless it was on the big screen.

  ‘No. Hopefully by the end of next week the fuss will have all died down. I’ll start my new job. End of the drama.’

  Jess turned over onto her stomach, her shrewd gaze assessing me. ‘Don’t you want to see him again?’

  A flash of memory from our last night together made my breath hitch, and heat that had nothing to do with the Californian sun prickled my skin. ‘Jess … there’s no future in it. Anyway, he hasn’t asked.’

  She rolled her eyes, castigating me with a ‘don’t be stupid’ look. ‘I think he likes you. Why else would he put you up in his gorgeous LA mansion?’

  ‘He’s putting you up, too. And are you suggesting he’s seducing me with extravagant gestures?’

  She laughed. ‘Would it work?’

  ‘No. Besides, I told you—he doesn’t want us to be hounded by the press. I think he still feels bad for what happened in Queenstown—I’ve never seen you so pale.’

  Jess shuddered. ‘That’s right. Nothing in it for him, whatsoever.’

  ‘Of course there is. He’s in talks at the moment for a three-movie deal that he really wants. He says I’ve been good for his image. So there—he’s not as altruistic as you’d have him.’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean he was selfless. I just think he wants you, that’s all. He’s probably as scared as you are.’

  I though back to the last time I’d seen him—he was superstar Nathan again, all arrangements and appointments—game face on. I scoffed. ‘Nathan Banks?’

  ‘Yes. He’s had his share of heartbreak. You’d know this if you read gossip magazines.’

  I stared at my friend, my chest tight. ‘Has he?’

  She nodded. ‘His fiancée cheated on him with some director and he was once famously quoted for implying that women used him to get ahead with their own careers.’

  I shifted on the lounger, suddenly restless. Keen to steer the conversation from intrusive hearsay on Nathan’s personal life, I pushed my friend on her strange mood. ‘What’s with you and all this scared crap?’

  She fell silent, her foot tapping the lounger.

  ‘Jess?’

  ‘We’re all scared of something.’

  Jess had her secrets and I guessed she’d been badly hurt in the past, although she never talked about it, choosing to hide behind her bubbly personality and happy-go-lucky attitude to life. I’d never seen her this contemplative, and it was short-lived as she fell silent once more. Her head rested on her folded arms and with her sunglasses on and hat pulled low over her eyes, her mood became unreadable.

  She was right though. Part of me was scared. Terrified, because what I needed and what I wanted were, for the first time in my life, in direct conflict. I didn’t need superstar Nathan, with his entourage and his hordes of fans and the incessant media interest in him. But I could very easily want rock climber Nathan with his sense of humour and his infectious joie de vivre, and one didn’t exist without the other. In short, I was screwed.

  ‘I’m going to my cousin’s wedding in a month.’ Jess shocked me from my reverie.

  I digested this nugget of informa
tion. Jess never talked about her family and in all the time I’d known her she’d never once been back to her hometown, Swansea.

  ‘That’s nice. I love a good wedding.’

  ‘Mm, me too, usually.’

  ‘What’s up, Jess? Do you want to talk about it?’ I winced. I’d been a terrible friend lately, too wrapped up in Nathan, the paparazzi and my family to see the turmoil dampening her spirits.

  ‘I guess I’m trying to say life is short and we should seize opportunities when we can, regardless of how much they terrify us.’

  If I hadn’t known they were virgin, I’d have blamed the margaritas. ‘Yes, you’re right. Are you terrified to go to this wedding?’

  She jumped from the lounger, tossing her sunglasses and hat onto the table. ‘Enough talking. Race you to the pool.’ And with that she ran to the edge, performing a perfect cannonball into the pristine blue water.

  I joined her moments later, glad to some degree to have my friend back. But her introspection had awoken my own, forcing me to examine both Jess’s words and my own feelings. I was scared—scared to want someone as untouchable as Nathan, scared I’d never get used to the paparazzi, the fans and the lack of privacy. Clearly I was far from the dragon-slayer Nathan saw—more like a scared little mouse. Nathan was a lion and he needed a lioness.

  ***

  The days took on a lazy but predictable pattern. We spent the mornings sleeping in, lounging by the pool and eating a delicious lunch prepared for us by Nathan’s housekeeper, Louisa. In the afternoons we’d take a drive to the beaches of Santa Monica or Malibu, or shop the eclectic mix of designer boutiques and vintage treasure-troves lining the colourful streets of Los Feliz.

  We returned from one such shopping trip to find a strange convertible in the driveway. Inside, the house was quiet, so Jess and I left our shopping bags on the hall table and wandered out to the pool in search of Louisa.

  Emerging from the gloom of the house to the brilliant sunshine bathing the terrace, I squinted, questioning my eyesight as my feet stalled to a halt.

  Nathan sat on the terrace with a dark-haired man, a couple of drinks on the table between them. My eyes burned at the sight of him, although I told myself it was the sun reflecting off the pool. Four days. I hadn’t seen him for four days and it felt like an aeon and a millisecond at the same time.

  The men saw us, rising to their feet at the same time, the scrape of the metal chair legs on the concrete snapping me out of my trance.

  ‘Jess. Good to see you again.’ Nathan bent to kiss Jess’s cheek, his eyes fixed on mine over her shoulder.

  Heat flared between us across the terrace, drawing me closer to its flames.

  ‘My apologies for gatecrashing your holiday.’ His crooked smile was for Jess and I envied my friend for the first time, knowing first hand the devastating effects of that smile. I received a wary glance and a flick of his eyebrows. ‘Soph.’

  Jess prevented me answering. ‘Don’t be silly, we don’t mind at all—it’s your house. Thanks for sharing it with us.’

  Nathan glanced my way again, his features relaxed but unreadable. ‘My pleasure. I promise you won’t see me. I have some appointments here this week.’

  I was close enough to touch him now and the urge to leap at him was so strong, I had to grip the back of the patio chair to keep my feet on the ground.

  Nathan brushed his lips over my cheek, leaving me too soon to make introductions. ‘This is my friend, Tyler Wentworth. Tyler, meet Jess Bellamy and Sophia King.’ His hand dropped to the small of my back and I resented the sundress I wore, missing the feel of his fingers on my bare skin.

  Tyler, like Nathan, was charming and attentive, evoking a flush in Jess’s cheeks as the pair fell into conversation about the must-see attractions LA had to offer.

  Nathan’s hand left the small of my back as he moved to pull out a chair for Jess. ‘Can I get you ladies a drink?’

  The beam Jess turned on him was filled with adoration—another female fan, just what he needed. ‘Oh, yes please. Louisa’s margaritas are spectacular.’

  Nathan grinned. ‘I’ll see what I can do. Would you help me, Soph?’

  ‘Sure.’ He needed my help to carry a jug? Trepidation tensed my shoulders. Perhaps he wanted us to leave.

  The coolness of the air-conditioned interior raised goosebumps on my arms. Nathan closed the French doors to the terrace behind him and reached for me, spinning me around so my back was pressed against the wall. His lips crushed mine and his thigh pushed between my legs as he kissed me senseless.

  Euphoria coursed through my veins as my body recognised it was once again with the man responsible for bestowing so much pleasure on it. My doubts and fears were sidelined while I indulged in the heady thrill of his hair in my hands, the glide of his tongue on my lips and the press of his erection against my hip.

  He was here, kissing me as if he’d missed me as much as I’d missed him. How had I convinced myself I was fine with never seeing him again? Kissing him, touching him, felt as vital as breathing.

  We broke apart, our breath mingling as our chests heaved. He groaned, resting his forehead against mine. ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hi.’ The only coherent thought I had tumbled out in an inappropriate blurt that heated my cheeks as soon as I’d uttered it. ‘What are you doing here?’

  He stepped back from me, his hand finding his hair for a ruffle that made my fingers jealous. ‘I told you. I have some appointments.’ The glorious blaze faded from his eyes as he justified being in his own home and I wanted to stitch my lips closed to prevent further injurious leakage.

  I was outrageously pleased to see him, the surge of longing inside me too great to contain. But close on its heels were guilt and doubt and confusion—a swirling mass of misery that chased away the euphoria and injected my tone with snark. ‘That you didn’t know about four days ago?’

  He stepped back, his hard, heated body leaving me stranded against the wall with only my big mouth for company. ‘That’s right. What are you suggesting, Soph?’

  I dropped my gaze to the plush rug covering Nathan’s hardwood floor. ‘Nothing. It’s just … we could have stayed in a hotel, if you knew you’d be coming here.’

  His jaw clenched and he stuffed his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. ‘I didn’t know until today. You’d rather stay in a hotel than accept my hospitality?’ The hurt in his eyes jabbed at me with the prick of a thousand hypodermic needles.

  ‘Well, yes. No … I … That’s not what I mean. I just … I wanted to think, to get some distance …’

  ‘You need distance from me to think?’ His features remained impassive, but his eyes held the smile he couldn’t contain. It said smug, cocky, delighted.

  ‘No, not you …. life, work, you know?’ We both saw through my lie, but he took pity on me.

  ‘I won’t get in the way. After tonight, you probably won’t see me. I got a call—an interview. I was due here in a week anyway, so I rearranged a few other commitments.’

  So he hadn’t flown here just to see me, because his head was full of me and he couldn’t stay away? I mentally slapped myself. ‘Of course. It’s your house.’

  He lifted an eyebrow, taunting me with his reasonable, civilised hospitality. ‘There are eight bedrooms. I’m sure you can tolerate sleeping under the same roof as me for the next few days.’

  ‘Of course.’ My body thrummed with anticipation. It had no reservations and we would only need one of those bedrooms.

  Jess. A fresh wave of guilt swamped me. I was here on a girl’s holiday with my friend. A friend I’d abandoned in New Zealand because my past had caught up with me.

  ‘I’ll be busy too. I have an appointment with Dr Sewell.’

  ‘That’s great. I’d love to hear about his work sometime.’ His earnest enthusiasm consoled me.

  ‘I’m going to find Louisa. Why don’t you join the others?’ He kissed my forehead and was gone.

  I stayed where I was, my heart rate slowing and thou
ghts slotting back into place. I’d come here in part to get away from him, to wean myself off him. Did I want to play house with him now? And would it be fair to Jess if we continued to stay under the same roof? But I couldn’t deny how pleased I was to see him.

  When I returned to the terrace, Jess was laughing at something Tyler had said. ‘Tyler is a film director, Soph. How cool is that?’ Her eyes sparkled and she absently swirled a lock of her curls around her finger as she glanced at him.

  Poor, unsuspecting Tyler. Was he aware he was soon to be the recipient of a full-scale charm offensive, Jess-style?

  ‘Really? Would I have seen any of your films?’

  The talk turned to movies and then celebrity nightspots. By the time Nathan returned to the table with a jug of margaritas and some glasses, Jess and Tyler had the evening all planned out.

  ‘Come clubbing with us, Nathan?’ said Jess, passing me a drink before helping herself.

  ‘I’d love to. But I have an interview at six a.m.’

  Jess’s gaze flicked to me, hesitant now she knew it wouldn’t be a foursome. ‘Soph?’

  ‘I could go clubbing. We’re on holiday, right?’ I caught the minute slump of her shoulders and smirked into my drink. If I knew my friend, she was planning a little holiday fling with the handsome movie director and didn’t need the third wheel. I chose to enjoy her suffering for a while before I pulled out of the evening.

  ‘Great. Tyler knows all the celebrity hangouts.’

  ‘And he’s much better on the dance floor than me,’ said Nathan.

  Tyler reached for his drink. ‘I’m not sure about that, but I’ll do my best.’

  Jess and I finished the jug of margaritas and excused ourselves to change for a night of dancing. I headed to her room on the pretext of helping her decide which of today’s new purchases would be appropriate for LA’s chicest nightclubs.

  From her bed, I watched as she whirled around the room in a flurry of exited preparation.

  ‘Aren’t you changing?’ Her voice was muffled inside a shimmery top she pulled over her head.

  ‘Would you mind if I didn’t come along? I think I drank too many margaritas. I’ve got a bit of a headache.’