Accidental Texting: Finding Love despite the Spotlight

by Kimberly Montague

  I let my shoulders relax a little and sat down on the bed. He walked over and kneeled on the floor in front of me, wrapping his arms around my waist and laying his head on my thighs. "Morgan, I don't want to push you. We've talked about it, and I've gotten to know what you are and are not ready for. I don't see the point in pressuring you more. That's all I meant when I said I didn't want to tell you. And it makes me feel like shit when I hurt you. When you say 'okay' like that, I just wanna fix it. But I can't, and that kills me."

  The last of the anger drained from me, and I ran my fingers through his hair. This was why I needed to get to know him. This was why I couldn't say I loved him or commit to him. I felt much more tired in that moment. I thought I was going to be calling a cab and flying home not five minutes earlier, and the heaviness of the moment still hung on me, but I believed him.

  "This is why I need time, Sean. I still don't know what you're like when you're mad at me. I don't know if I can count on you when things get really awful. I don't know if we can just hang out together and have fun. There's so much I just need to experience that I can't jump in blindly."

  He got up and put his hand out to me. "We'll get there, love. I promise, but you have to trust me to shield you from some of this."

  "Like the contract thing?"

  "Yes. You know enough about it. Let me handle the rest, please?"

  I gave in and nodded. He pulled me up and wrapped his arms around me.

  "My parents are another thing I need you to let me shield you from. Mel will help and so will Rudy, but they'll push you for more than you're ready for. They mean well, but they're gonna love you, and the second they do, they'll start pushing."

  "Okay—uh." I knew how he felt about me using that word. "Sorry."

  "No." He sounded sad and pushed me back, holding me by my upper arms, staring desperately into my eyes. "Please don't change. I didn't mean to do that. You don't have to change anything for me, ever. I wish I could make everything immediately okay for you, but I like that I can hear it in your voice when it's not. I'm sorry—I—"

  "Okay." I smiled a half smile, and he kissed me on my forehead. He pulled me in to take a quick shower although he really made it take a lot longer than it normally would have.

  Just as we were getting out, Rudy's voice bounced off all the walls in the beautifully tiled bathroom. "Stewie's here. He says he'll head them off at the pass."

  I turned to Sean. "Do you have an intercom in every room?"

  He smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Sort of a necessity—there's also a camera in every room, but I control which ones are on and when. If I'm home alone, I leave them all on unless I choose to have some privacy. There's a button on the intercom. In fact, come here."

  I wrapped myself in a towel and placed my hand in his, stepping over to a panel beside the door.

  "There's a panel inside the shower too, just in case. This button here will let you speak to Rudy, or if Rudy's with me, Nathan. This button here turns the camera on and off. If it's lit, it's on, not lit means it's off. This third button is the panic button, and sends an alarm not only to Rudy, but to the police station at the west end of the community, so be very careful around that button."

  It was a little unnerving to think that he needed such stringent security. "Have you ever had to use the panic button?"

  "No. No one's ever gotten in here. It's pretty secure."

  "But somewhere else?" He nodded at me, but didn't explain. "Sean?"

  "Every once in a while, someone completely determined gets through, but I can more than defend myself. They're usually pretty surprised when I personally haul their ass out and into police custody."

  I nodded, satisfied with his ability to keep himself safe. I turned toward the blow dryer and grabbed my brush. After a moment, I noticed him still standing there, watching me. I smiled at him. "What?" He shook his head and looked a little sick. Putting down the hair dryer, I fully turned to him. "What is it?"

  "Nothing. I just—I need to train you."

  "Train me?"

  "If they ever got to you—I—" He looked so scared. The blood had drained from his face as he stared into my eyes.

  "No one will get to me. That's what Nathan's for. Besides, who would be stupid enough to take on your wrath if they touched me?" I wanted him to smile again. He was seriously breaking down my walls. Seeing him upset over the thought of me getting hurt really got to me, and I just needed it to go back to the lighthearted way we'd been with each other all night. "So this training, how much of it can be done in bed?"

  Slowly, he let go of the tension and grinned. "I don't need to train you in the bedroom. You've got that down real well."

  "Well, thank you." I laughed. "I think practice is really the key, though. Perhaps you can help me with that?"

  He pushed his body closer to mine. "I suppose I could sacrifice some time. You know, I've heard that you should practice every hour to keep the knowledge fresh in your mind."

  "Oh, you've heard that have you? From a reliable source?"

  He drew his eyebrows together and crossed his heart with his fingers. "Absolutely—scientifically researched—backed by the FDA even."

  I rolled my eyes at him, and he smacked my butt, making me laugh and wrap my arms around his neck. "The Food and Drug Administration has done studies about our sex habits?"

  "Sweetie, the way you make me feel when I'm making love to you is undeniably the most powerful drug on the planet." He had me grinning like a fool with the way he talked. He pressed his lips briefly to mine before pulling the towel off my body.

  I turned back to the blow dryer, watching his reflection as he stared at my butt. "I can handle drying my hair while naked. The question is, can you?"

  "Mel called." I recognized Stewie's voice on the intercom this time. "They'll be here in ten minutes."

  "Ugh!" he groaned and wrapped the towel back around my body. "Fine. You're right. I can't handle it. I'll just stay right here wanting to handle you if you stay naked." He kissed my shoulder and disappeared from the bathroom.

  Alone and with the noise of the blow dryer drowning everything else out, I was left with too much time to think. What if his parents didn't like me? What did I need to do to make a good impression on them? What was I going to wear? I'd only brought a few pairs of jeans, a few tank tops, and a couple sweaters. I didn't even know what the weather was like outside. I vaguely remembered it being warm when we got off the plane, but that wasn't any indication of what it was like right now. I was wishing I had my heels and a nice blouse when Sean came back in the bathroom.

  He was wearing blue jeans and a dark gray T-shirt that made his gray eyes stand out. He stood behind me with his hands on my hips for a moment before reaching into a drawer to pull out a small jar. I tried to concentrate on my hair as he put some kind of styling product in his short, dark strands, but he was so sexy. His muscled flexed as he sculpted his hair into a sort of spiky look. As I put the hair dryer back, I grabbed a bottle of lotion from my bag, spreading it across my skin.

  "Is that what you wear? I thought it was perfume, but that scent—" He leaned forward and put his nose to my neck where I'd just rubbed some lotion. "I love the way you smell."

  "I don't like perfume—it's too heavy. I like flowers and things that smell light and clean."

  "Mmm." He kept distracting me with the way he caressed my skin with his nose and lips. "That's my second favorite scent."

  I pulled away from him and rubbed lotion on my legs. "Your second favorite? What's the first?"

  He gave me that deep dimpled grin and pierced me with that devouring look again. His hand touched the side of my thigh and moved around to the front going higher and higher between my legs until I had to shove him away from me.

  "Sean. I swear I will not be able to walk." I was laughing, but I was also incredibly serious. My muscles were already screaming at me from serious overuse.

  He put his hands up. "You asked what my favorite scent was. I just thought I'd let my finge
rs point it out rather than tell you." He laughed loudly and smiled so fondly at me. "I love the way you blush."

  Looking back in the mirror, I was completely flushed, but it was more from the way he turned me on than from embarrassment. To make the temptation a little easier to resist, I pulled on a clean pair of panties and a bra, deciding to go with the black tank top in case it was too warm. He watched my every move and even put down the toilet seat lid to sit and watch.

  "How warm is it outside?" I asked as I put my makeup on.

  "Press the screen to your right."

  I turned to the security system and touched the screen. It lit up, and a menu appeared with three bars: phone, monitor, and weather. I pressed the weather bar and a bright sun appeared with 71 to the side and a detail bar beneath it.

  "Impressive," I commented.

  He shrugged. "Not as impressive as the view."

  "The beach is beautiful," I nodded.

  He shook his head. "That's not what I meant, but you know that."

  "I wish I had something decent to wear."

  He stood up and ran his fingers through the lace band on the thong I was wearing. I hadn't intended to look sexy, and only brought the black panties to go with the black tank top and sweater I was wearing, but I was really happy I had.

  "This looks fine to me." The way he drew out the word "fine" made me smile.

  "Yes, but I don't think your parents would appreciate it too much."

  "Okay, you got me there. But whatever you put on is fine. You don't have to impress them."

  "I want to impress them. I just wish I had my closet with me."

  "Well, you and my sister can go out and go shopping while I chat with my parents. You need a dress for tonight anyway. And now that I'm thinking about it—" He disappeared again. When he came back, he had his wallet in his hand. "Here." He held out a credit card.

  I shook my head. "I can pay for—"

  "We talked about this. You already agreed to this. I promised not to push money on you for the inn as long as you promised to let me pay for everything you have to buy as a result of dating me. I think the fact that I threw you on a plane without giving you a chance to pack falls into that category."

  My shoulders fell in defeat. I had agreed to that. Nodding, I took the card and stared down at it. Sean's name wasn't on the card. Instead, the name read "Irondale Enterprises." I held it back out to him. "My name isn't on the card. They won't let me use it."

  "Sure they will. You're on the account now." He put me on his credit card account? Just like that? What if I spent all his money? Of course I wouldn't do that, but he was putting a lot of faith in me. "This is your card now. They're sending me another one. I just feel better knowing you have it if you need it. And I don't care what you use it for. You'll use it if you need it. Promise me. Even if it's for the inn—" I shook my head violently, and he put his hand on my cheek. "No, you can pay me back if you feel you have to, but I don't want you constantly worrying about money. I've added enough worrying to your list by being who I am. You have to let me take some pressure off elsewhere. Please, Morgan."

  He knew exactly what to say to get his way. "Fine, but only if I'm desperate. What is Irondale Enterprises anyway?"

  "Irondale is the name of my high school. I turned it into my top secret business name." He smiled and kissed me. "I have to go outside. I want to talk to them before they come in. When you're ready, come on downstairs."

  "What if I hide up here?" I kept my eyes on the card, not wanting him to see how nervous I was getting.

  "Stay up here. I'll come back up and get you when I'm done talking to them."

  His willingness to baby me made me feel weak. "I'm just nervous. I'll be okay. You don't have to escort me."

  "I want to. And part of me just really wants to come up here and have a minute alone with you to relax after the stress they're gonna throw at me."

  I bit my bottom lip but quickly stopped myself. It was an obvious habit I really needed to work on.

  Still, he ran his finger along my lip. "They're not that bad. I promise. But I'm their kid, so they'll really give me hell. You're a guest. They'll be sweet and lovely to you. Really, you have nothing to worry about. They'll love you."

  I nodded as confidently as I could. He kissed my cheek and walked away.

  I pulled on my clean jeans and slipped on my boots, wishing again for nice heels instead of snow-trudging boots. I brushed my hair needlessly and put lip gloss on. I was as ready as I could be.

  In Sean's room, I looked around. I noticed he made the bed before he left the room and for some reason, it made me like the Sean Wilder part of him more. He was humble still. The built-in shelves occupying an entire wall were filled with awards. There were three Golden Globes, a Screen Actors Guild award, two MTV movie awards, and a small shelf full of Peoples Choice Awards. The only one I didn't see was his Oscar, leaving me to wonder where it was. I followed the bookcase and saw several shelves of books. On one shelf, he had a black belt and a picture of him in a white karate uniform looking serious.

  I was particularly drawn to a shelf with three picture frames. In one, Sean had his arm around a young girl with the biggest smile on her face. She was in a hospital gown and wore a bright pink bandanna on her head. Another picture had a teenage boy who was so thin and pale, but he looked so happy standing next to Sean. The last was a teenage girl in a wheelchair out in a garden. She had an oxygen tube running to her nose. They were both smiling, but the tears in Sean's eyes were unmistakable. "Elizabeth Margaret Bosley August 12, 1993- May 7, 2010" was engraved on the frame. The fact that he had these in his bedroom where only he would see them and not out in the living room where others would comment on them said a lot about him.

  The last shelf had more pictures, but these were of Sean and his friends. I recognized Stewie, Rudy, and Nathan. There was a picture of him being tackled by one of the guys, and a picture of a pretty girl strangling him. The family resemblance was strong, and I guessed she was his sister. Her dark brown hair hung well past her shoulders in waves, and she was dressed in jeans and a brightly colored fitted T-shirt. I was relieved to get the feeling she was the type of girl that Cerise, Annalisa, and I would be friends with. She looked normal—not like she was out to impress the world or overly concerned with herself, just normal.

  At the end of the room, I stopped and just stared at the ocean. This was like a relationship on fast forward. It was really overwhelming to learn so much about Sean so quickly. It was tough to get my bearings. It's not that I didn't like what I was learning—quite the opposite, really. It was just feeling like I was speeding toward I don't know what. I was really afraid I was speeding toward a great big wreck, which was what I was going to be if this didn't work out. Really, it would have been easier if I'd hated him. But so far, the only thing that bothered me was this massive fear that seemed to loom over me screaming, "You can't keep him!"

  "Morgan, they're coming inside now. Sean said to stay upstairs." By process of elimination, I assumed the voice on the intercom belonged to Nathan. My stomach swirled in a motion imitating the ocean beneath me. I was starting to wonder if I could break the wall of glass in front of me and make a run for it.

  More Than Twenty Million?

  "I'm a jackass?" Sean yelled outside the door, and I started twisting my hands together. "You're the one behaving like a jackass. I don't need your pushy shit right now, Mel. Just back off. I'm serious."

  "Fine! But don't you dare think you've won." Her voice was right outside the door as well, making me look frantically around the room for signs of our activities from the night before. How embarrassing would that be?

  "I never win with you, why would I think that now?"

  She said something in response, but I couldn't make it out.

  Slowly, he opened the door and walked in, closing and locking it behind him. "She thinks she's comforting. She's in protective-big-sister mode and has claimed you as her own."

  My eyes widened, and my hand f
lew to my stomach as angry, nauseous bubbles burst in my belly. This was all too fast.

  He was in front of me in seconds, cupping my face in his hands. "It's a good thing, sweetie. She asked me three questions, and now she'll protect you to the death."

  "What did she ask you?"

  He lowered his hands. "I'd rather not say."

  "I'd rather you did."

  He stared at me for a few moments. "Are you really sure about that?"

  I pulled away from him and put my hands to my head. "I hate this!"

  "Okay, how about two out of three?" I nodded, and he sat on the edge of the bed. "She asked if I was in love with you. I told her yes. She asked if you knew how much money I was worth. I told her you didn't even know who I was in the beginning, and even now, I don't think you have any idea how much I'm worth. Do you?"

  "Uh." I felt kind of foolish not to know. Like it was something a fan would know, but I really had no clue what any major Hollywood actors were worth. I'd never had much interest in money or playing make believe in their world, which was ironic obviously. "T—Ten or I don't know twenty million?"

  He smirked. "You're cute." He winked at me and pulled my lips to his. "Mmm. I like that." He pointed to my lips. "What is it?"

  "Peach lip gloss."

  "Tasty. You ready to face the music? They told me they'd be on their best behavior—well Mel didn't say that, but she's already determined you'll be best friends."

  I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. "Okay."

  He took my hand and pulled me toward the door. When he opened it, I stopped and wouldn't let him pull me any farther. He looked back at me, and I put my hand up. Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths, told myself I could handle this, and then nodded. I could hear the voices rising up the staircase, but I couldn't distinguish what they were saying.

  I must have looked worried because he put his arm around my waist and whispered, "They're just chatting with Rudy and Stewie. Stewie's like a son to them."

  As we walked down the stairs, Sean kept his arm firmly planted around my waist. I felt a lot more comfortable with him next to me, but I tried not to lean on him. I wasn't weak—nervous as hell, yes, but weak? No. Throwing my shoulders back and recognized Mel first from her picture upstairs. She came right for me, her arms outstretched.