Finding Us (True Love) (Volume 2)

by Harper Bentley

  By the time we finished, my mind was rested after having been spared (for a couple hours, at least) the constant contemplation of whether El would see that we were meant to be and not allow an outside party in to screw shit up. See? Totally needed those couple of hours. Damn.

  “Thanks, man,” I told Logan when I walked into his living room after changing clothes.

  “No problem. So what’s on your mind?” he asked.

  I sat down on the sectional in his living room and took a pull from the beer he’d given me before answering. “Same old shit.”

  “I’m telling you, man. Women are fucking evil. You should do like I do. Date ‘em once, fuck ‘em, then fuck ‘em,” he said laughing.

  Yeah, that sounded like loads of fun… and STDs.

  “Don’t you ever get lonely?” I inquired, genuinely curious.

  He sighed and brought his right foot up to rest on his left knee from where he sat on the other end of the huge couch. “Yeah. But I had a girl once. Fucked me over but good. Found her in bed with the pitcher I caught for in Triple A. After beating the shit out of him and telling her she was a no-good fucking cunt, I decided right then and there relationships sucked balls and I wouldn’t go there again. And I haven’t. Let’s see, that was five years ago. I was twenty-two when it happened and I haven’t looked back.”

  I watched him as I took another drink. He wasn’t fooling anyone. I could tell he was lying, that if the right woman came along, he’d rethink his position. I just didn’t tell him that. I mean, who was I to tell him relationships were good when mine was as screwed up as it was.

  We grilled out some steaks, shot the shit some over more trivial things other than the state of our lives then I went home to enjoy (that’s sarcasm) the silence of my condo.

  At least I got some bills paid and caught up on the episodes of Justified that I’d DVR’d. And wasn’t life just fucking grand.

  “I think we need to go fully nude for this scene,” Alessandra whined.

  We were two and a half weeks into shooting, and at her suggestion, I raised an eyebrow telling her I didn’t think so, and I made sure to let everyone involved know where I stood on it. Jesus. The third commercial involved us, once again, rolling around in bed together. We were almost finished with the whole thing, and I couldn’t wait to walk out of there never to return. I’d been told we needed two more days to complete it. Bring that shit on.

  “Jag can wear shorts again, like always,” the director said.

  Thank God.

  Alessandra pouted even more when she heard that. “But we’ve done this scene before. I mean, I’m comfortable with my body, I model underwear for crissakes, so being nude isn’t a big deal. I don’t see what the problem is for Jag. He has a fantastic body,” she protested.

  I shook my head at her suggestion, wanting to get this over yesterday.

  The director ignored her and instructed us to get into the bed that was on set, and this time I knew I’d be pushing it with El. This commercial actually had me kissing Alessandra, which sure wasn’t going to help my cause any. I just knew when El saw it, all bets would be off. But it was only to be a brushing of the lips and that was it, so I thought she could probably handle it. Or I hoped she could.

  But I was contractually bound (swear to God, if that phrase was thrown in my face one more time, I was gonna kick the shit out of someone), and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it. But I now had experience with this sort of thing, and I wouldn’t be making the same mistake I had as a rookie if anything like this came up again. Fucking Dirk.

  “Jag, why don’t we just make it official between us so this sexual tension will go away?” Alessandra said with a giggle, fluttering her eyelashes as she looked up at me, once we were in bed and I was lying on top of her, my forearms holding me up so our bodies weren’t touching too much. She was attempting to be seductive, but her attempt was falling flat.

  “You feel that, Alessandra?” I asked, looking down at her, eyebrows raised.

  “What? I don’t feel anything,” she answered, looking confused.

  “Exactly,” I replied with a smirk.

  She narrowed her eyes at me, pissed that she wasn’t making me aroused. Again. As usual. And I chuckled at the hateful look she was giving me.

  “Quiet on the set!” yelled the director. “Action!”

  So there I lay on top of Alessandra, looking at her wishing it was El who was under me, and I just wasn’t able to eighty-six the look of disgust on my face. But the funny thing was, when the director yelled, “Cut!” he praised me for the smoldering look I’d given her, and I couldn’t help but chuckle even more at that.

  But I wasn’t chuckling for long when we started filming the next scene and I had to kiss her, because the chick definitely took it way too far as soon as our lips touched, arching up under me, moaning like a cow in labor, her hand behind my head pulling me to down to her, as she pressed her lips hard against mine, trying to shove her tongue in my mouth. Christ. If this was any indication of how she was in the sack (and as a man, of course I’d definitely wondered; we’re all dicks like that, remember?), then God help the poor saps who’d experienced this for real, her writhing under them, emoting like crazy. I could almost guarantee that she’d faked many an orgasm.

  When the director stopped shooting the scene, Alessandra bit my lip as I pulled away from her, trying to be all seductive and shit, which totally wasn’t working. It only reminded me of one of the last times El and I’d been together before she’d left, and it’d been damned hot. But Alessandra, never in a million years, would be anywhere near as sexy as El had been that night. Or ever. There was just no comparison.

  I continued pulling back until she let my lip go, almost laughing in her face at the “provocative” look she was giving me, which actually looked as if she was constipated.

  At my tipped up lips she huffed out, “What?” her brow wrinkling.

  I shook my head, trying to keep my laughter in check. “Nothing. Let’s just get this finished.”

  On the way home from the shoot, Ross called.

  “Hey, dude, guess what?”

  “What’s up, bro?” I replied.

  “Bec and I got our own place.”

  “Yeah? That’s awesome, man. I’m happy for you. Where’s the new place?”

  “Closer to the city, about ten minutes from her old place. Moved out the end of last week.”

  “How’s El taking it?” I wondered if she’d get a new roommate now.

  “She’s okay. Sad, of course, but she understood. She kinda knew it was coming since we’d been talking about it, so it wasn’t really a surprise to her.”

  I texted her later that night. It was the first contact I’d had with her since I’d left Chicago. I’d been waiting the past almost three weeks to see if she’d get hold of me, but since that wasn’t happening, I felt the need to make the first move. And now that she was living alone, I wanted to make sure she was okay.

  Hey baby. How are you?

  It was two hours before I heard back from her.

  Now, here’s the deal. I knew she was busy with school. I knew I’d screwed up. I knew she needed time to sort out some things. And I knew she was probably occupied with personalizing her apartment or whatever women did in that situation. But I also knew that whoever said, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” was a liar because we’d been apart for almost three weeks, and I’d heard nothing from her which meant her heart was doing anything but growing fonder. Stupid poets and their dumbass sayings.

  So when I finally got a response, I was slightly pissed that it’d taken her that long to text me back.

  Oh. Hey. I’m good. How are you?

  Good. I miss you…

  Another twenty minutes went by before she answered and now I was definitely pissed.

  Oh…

  All right. I’d had enough. Texting was getting us nowhere so I called her.

  “Hello?” she answered in a half whisper after several rin
gs.

  “What’s going on, El?”

  I could hear people and a guy’s voice in the background fading as she must’ve been walking away from him.

  “I’m out.”

  “Yeah? Who’re you with?”

  Update: Royally pissed off now.

  She cleared her throat nervously. “No one.”

  I took in a deep breath through my nose and pinched the top of it, closing my eyes and clenching my teeth. “Is it Slade? No, it’s that Jeremy guy, isn’t it?”

  “Jag, he’s just a friend. He’s been helping me a lot. He’s a professor and he’s been helping me with everything. We’re just hanging out.”

  I moved my hand from my nose and ran it through my hair, pushing the one piece that always hung down out of my eyes. “Something I should know?”

  She waited a beat before saying, “I-I don’t think so. But I’m really confused.”

  Fucking hell.

  “What can I do to help you not be confused, El?” I asked, trying to hold in my anger.

  “I just need time, Jag. That’s it.”

  “I’ve tried giving you time. Not working for me. So, is he what you want? Just say the word, El,” I cautioned.

  “Jag…”

  “Say the word.”

  All right. To explain what was going on here, I’m a guy. We’re competitive. We’re possessive of what’s ours. El was mine. That prick had no right being around her, especially when I couldn’t be. And wasn’t this situation just same song, second fucking verse, of our lives the past seven years? Anyway, all that aside, I needed to know what I was facing, like, was there a chance of her falling for this guy? Did she not love me anymore?

  But either way, I was getting her back.

  I know, I know. Cocky. But I liked to view it as being confident. Coach Martin used to tell us that the best offense was a good defense, and I needed to know where things stood so I’d be more prepared and could strategize better.

  “I can’t talk right now. Can I call you later?”

  I told her yes and we hung up as I decided what I was going to do next.

  It was after one in the morning when I knocked on El’s apartment door.

  Yep. I’d gotten the first flight out that I could that would take me to Chicago to see her. I’d had enough of the bullshit that had overtaken my life and was going to put an end to it once and for all.

  When she didn’t answer her door, I called her to wake her up, but she didn’t answer. So I used the key Ross had given me and went inside to wake her, but when I got to her room, she wasn’t there. Where the fuck was she?

  I called her again, and again she didn’t answer, so I thought maybe she’d gone to her parents’ home. I got back in my rental and drove to our neighborhood. Cruising down the street, I looked in her drive to see that she wasn’t there either. I couldn’t call Rebecca because it was now past two (and I’m sure she would’ve been so glad to hear from me), so I decided to drive by El’s brothers’ places and check if she was there. She wasn’t.

  I had a rough idea where Ross and Rebecca had moved, so I drove there and steered through the parking lot but still didn’t see El’s Jetta. I called and texted her again, but when she didn’t answer, I started to worry. I was just about at the point that I was going to call her dad, but decided to go by her apartment one more time. And now her light was on. I parked, got out and walked up to her door when it suddenly opened and there was PT boy coming out. At three in the morning. From El’s apartment where she now lived alone.

  El stood at the door and her eyes got great big when she saw me. “Jag! Wh-what are you doing here?”

  I didn’t even look at her as I stood staring down her friend.

  “Uh, I’ll call you tomorrow, Ellen,” he said as he eyed me carefully then he walked toward the parking lot.

  I kept my eyes on him until he’d driven off then turned to look at her.

  “Come on in,” she offered, the look of shock still on her face. I stood on the doorstep for a few seconds more before following her inside.

  Chapter 10

  From the time we can comprehend language, boys are taught to be tough, not to cry, to protect the weak, and to suck it up.

  But I’ll be damned if sucking it up was the last thing I wanted to do. What I wanted to do was punch something because it was after three in the morning, another man had just left El’s place, and she was now acting as if she had no interest in my being there.

  And I was going to change that. She may have thought it was over with us, but it was far from it, which she’d soon be figuring out for herself.

  I sat in the same recliner I’d sat in the past spring after we’d made love for the first time. She’d come out of the bedroom after napping and had been so sweet, coming in to sit on my lap, kissing the fool out of me, forgetting that Ross and Rebecca had been in the room, which had embarrassed her completely, making her blush adorably. And I’d loved every moment of it. God, we’d been perfect then.

  And now here we were.

  El sat on the couch, folding her legs under her, biting her bottom lip in contemplation, I supposed. She finally looked up and said, “So why are you here?”

  “I wanted to see you.” And wasn’t that a groundbreaking answer.

  “Oh.”

  “Why didn’t you answer your phone? Where’ve you been tonight?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

  She fidgeted a bit, fiddling with the neck of the hunter green cowl-neck sweater she wore. “Well, uh, my phone went dead is why I didn’t answer. But we went to this ballet thing that a friend of his was performing in. Afterward, we all went for a drink.”

  Inside, the jealousy was roaring, wanting me to go find and beat the shit out of this Jeremy dude. But what was keeping it at bay was the part about the ballet. Who goes on a date to the ballet? Was Jeremy gay or was he one of those cultured guys who loved opera, ballet and shit? I was hoping for gay.

  “I wanna know what’s going on with you two.” I leaned forward putting my elbows on my knees and clasping my hands in front of me, my eyes focused on her.

  She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear nervously. “I’m not sure.”

  “What are you not sure about?” Guess I was going to have to walk her through this.

  “I’m not sure.”

  Guess I was going to have to hold her hand while I walked her through this.

  “You’re not sure what you’re not sure about?” My lips twitched at that, which made her blush a little. Ah, good sign. I still had her.

  “I guess so,” she said with a small chuckle.

  “So, anything you wanna tell me?”

  “Well… we do need to talk about what’s going on with us, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess we do,” I answered, glad we were finally getting somewhere.

  “Where do we start?” she asked, perplexed, looking too damned cute.

  “You know where I stand when it comes to us, El. Far as I’m concerned, we’re still together.”

  She frowned, but there was a hint of a smile behind it. “Bossy,” she mumbled so quietly I barely heard her. She then cleared her throat and said, “You wanna know my take on everything?”

  “Of course,” I stated, sitting back and bringing up my left foot to rest on my right knee, my elbows resting on the arms of the chair, my hands steepled in front of me as I watched her.

  She blew out a breath looking down at her fingers that she was nervously tangling in her lap. “Okay. I’ve loved you my whole life, Jag. I’ve never even looked at another guy in all the time we were together.” She glanced up at me through her lashes, before looking back down, worrying her fingers.

  And that proclamation made me want to stand up and raise my arms in victory.

  “But… to be honest, I feel like I kinda lost myself over the past three years. I mean, I was so committed to you and our relationship, so into what was happening in your career that I guess I lost what was going on with my own. Does that make sense to you?” she
asked.

  It so totally did. I knew she’d put up with a lot to be with me, and I knew our being apart for three years had worn on her. And her moving to LA to be with me had been a huge sacrifice on her part.

  “It makes total sense, baby. I understand completely,” I said, getting up and going to the couch. I sat down then pulled her onto my lap, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “I know you gave up a lot to move to LA to be with me. And I appreciate it. And now it’s your turn, El.”

  She looked at me with a frown. “What do you mean?”

  I wrapped my arms around her and locked my fingers together at her right hip. “I had my time, and you gave up a lot to be with me. Now it’s my turn to do the same for you.” I leaned in, placing several kisses on her jaw up to her neck and felt a shiver go through her, which made me smirk a bit, knowing I was having an effect on her. I kept planting kisses over her neck then up to her ear where I whispered, “Your career’s important, and I’m willing to do whatever I can to help make everything easier for you, baby.”

  “You are?” She turned her face toward mine in surprise, raising her hands to put her palms against my cheeks.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, leaning toward her, wanting to feel her lips on mine but waiting to see if that’s what she wanted.

  “Okay…” she whispered with a small giggle, as if she were shocked that I’d even consider her career. Which kind of put me off because she should’ve known that anything she did was important to me, but as she moved forward, brushing her mouth against mine I forgot to be mad.

  “Okay,” I mumbled against her lips, pulling her closer to me with my laced hands as I kissed her harder. But I wanted to make sure this was what she wanted, so I was going to let her take the lead on things… no matter how tough it’d be.

  Our kiss got more heated as one of her hands slid around to the back of my neck and up into my hair, the other moving down to the back of my waist then up and under my jacket where she tugged at my shirt, pulling it from my waistband. My hand moved down to cup her luscious ass that I’d missed so much, the other going to her outer thigh as I lifted her, turning her toward me so she was straddling me.