The Last Guy

by Ilsa Madden-Mills

  Because I don’t know about tomorrow . . .

  Rebecca

  “YES! OH, CADE—oh, YES!” It’s happening. The most amazing O of my entire life is rocking my body and soul right now. My mind is erased. I’m soaring through the universe as Cade Hill pounds into me from the foot of the bed.

  He’s the most amazing, the most beautiful, the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m on my third orgasm of the night as his massive hammer claims my body forever.

  I’m on my back, my ankles on his shoulders, and he’s leaning forward, both hands on each side of my head. A bead of sweat traces down his temple, and his hair swings in messy, sweat-tipped waves around his face. His eyes squeeze shut, and he reaches up to grip my calf as if for balance.

  “Fuck, Stone . . .” A low swear groans from his chest as he pulses deep inside me. He holds tight, his dark brow creased, and I’m in the stars, pinned to this bed, by this gorgeous man now lowering to his forearms above me and capturing my lips in a gentle, worshipful kiss. My lips follow his, in a lazy, completely sated response.

  “Adrenaline sex is amazing,” I sigh, and he laughs.

  “Don’t get any ideas.”

  “Hmm . . . I have lots of ideas.”

  His nose is in my neck, and he’s kissing my collarbone. His beard scuffs my sensitive skin, and it’s absolutely divine. It’s too divine . . . A shock of panic hits my chest, and my body stiffens as a memory shoots to the forefront of my brain . . .

  “Cade?” Even I hear the tremor in my voice.

  His head pops up. “What’s wrong?”

  I look down at his chin, reaching up to run my fingers through his silky hair before I say it out loud.

  “You haven’t . . . applied for any top secret government programs, have you?”

  Confusion is in his eyes. “Top secret government programs?”

  “Anything with NASA?”

  He draws back more and his eyes run all over my face and up to my forehead. “Did you get hit in the head tonight? In the struggle?”

  “No, I was just wondering.”

  “I’ve never done any work with NASA, and I haven’t applied for any government jobs.”

  Relief bubbles in my stomach, and I laugh—blissed-out, happy laughter. “Good. Don’t ever do that, okay?”

  His brow furrows, but that amazing dimple appears in his cheek. “Crazy Stone.”

  I touch a red-tipped finger to that little indention in his cheek, and I have another thought about tonight. “Thank you.”

  “For that mind-blowing orgasm? You’re welcome.”

  “No, Mr. Cocky . . .”

  “That’s Mr. Cock to you.”

  “Oh my God,” I roll my eyes, pushing against his shoulder. “Forget I said anything.”

  He laughs more, pulling out and reaching between us to dispose of the condom. I move up into the pillows and wrap the blankets around my naked body, waiting for him to join me. Both our heads are on the long, king-sized pillows, but we’re in the middle of his enormous bed, facing each other with amazed smiles. Being Cade’s girlfriend—secret girlfriend—is even better than I imagined.

  “Okay, seriously,” he says in that deep, rich voice I love as he reaches out to smooth a lock of hair away from my cheek—another thing I love. “Why are you thanking me again?”

  “I was thinking about this evening . . . earlier in the parking garage.”

  His dark brows pull together, but he’s still smiling. “I don’t understand.”

  “Thanks for not charging in and taking over when everything went down. Thanks for letting it be my story.”

  “It was your story.”

  “Yes, but you know what I mean.” I look down, thinking about his instinct to protect me. “I’ve worked so hard, and I . . . I don’t know. I guess I just wanted you to know I appreciate you supporting me and not treating me like . . .” I don’t even want to say it out loud. Like Marv.

  I’d been studying the sprinkling of dark hair across the lines in his chest as I said it, but now I look up to his beautiful blue eyes. His expression has changed. He blinks away quickly, but I saw the hesitation . . . concern? I’m not sure what it was.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, reaching out to place my palm against his skin.

  He doesn’t meet my eyes. Instead he reaches for my waist, turning me so my back is pressed against his chest.

  “Let’s sleep now. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “Are you tired?”

  “It’s hard work being a hero, chasing down bad guys, keeping you safe while making it look like I’m not even there.”

  I exhale a little laugh and lace my fingers with his around my waist.

  “Just know it means a lot to me,” I say quietly. “More than you probably know.”

  His voice is serious again, low and quiet. “I know.”

  My eyes pop open with the dawn. Cade is still sleeping, making noises somewhere between loud breathing and snoring, and I wrinkle my nose with a smile. I never thought I’d find snoring adorable, but somehow when he does it . . .

  Taking a deep breath, I slide out of his enormous bed and pick up my clothes. I have to get home so I can shower and change before we both have to be at work. I wish we could go for a jog together. I wish I could shower with his delicious-smelling body wash. I want to be covered in the scent of warm woods and citrus and Cade all day, reminding me of last night . . . reminding me of heroes . . . reminding me of amazing, real boyfriends who aren’t dreams . . .

  Chas is sitting at the table when I walk into our apartment, carrying my shoes. Her legs are crossed, and she looks like a classic 1950s housewife—full makeup, pink silk robe, pink turban, and a cup of coffee. Our oversized television is blasting the KHOT morning show, and it’s right in the middle of my hero story.

  “Girl!” Chassy jumps up from the table and runs to hug me at the door. My face barely reaches her chest in her feathered, high-heeled slippers. “You are the talk of the town, Rebecca Fieldstone of KHOT News, keeping us safe from hoodie bandits!”

  “Did you see it!?” My voice is a little loud as all the excitement from last night comes rushing back.

  “Ew, girl, don’t shout. I had a performance last night.”

  “Sorry!” I hop over to the couch and sit on my feet on the cushions, grabbing the remote to rewind it to the beginning of my story.

  Footage floods the screen of me holding the lady’s purse, of the cops rushing in, of Cade with his knee on that creep’s back, with my voice-over on top. “ . . . while it was unclear if this man was the Grabber, it was clear something was amiss. We kept our eyes on him . . .”

  “I love that part,” I say, hitting pause. “Hear how I did the parallel between the two clears? I just said that, right on the spot.”

  “You’re a regular Christiane Amanpour.”

  “Don’t make fun.”

  “I’m not!” Chassy’s eyes go round, and she places a large brown hand on her chest. “That story was as thrilling and important as anything happening in Iraq. Maybe more, because I was seriously considering never going to GreenStreet mall again.”

  “Yes!” I hop onto my knees. “That’s it. We helped catch this guy, and in doing that, we saved local business, tourism . . .”

  “You’re a hero!”

  Taking a deep breath, I rock back onto my butt. “I just know I’ll get that anchor spot now.”

  Chas pats my leg. “You know you’ve got my vote.”

  My phone vibrates, and I lift it as she takes the remote from me.

  Hate waking up and finding you gone. It’s Cade, and his words send tingles all through me.

  Sorry. Had to get ready for work. I don’t even try to hide the enormous smile breaking across my cheeks.

  Can’t wait to see you again, he texts.

  Me too.

  “Mmm, and apparently you’ve got sexy Mr. NFL’s vote, too! Yeah, baby, look at that ass!”

  I look up at the screen and see Cade talking to the cops in the
background of the news report, his perfectly tight backside on glorious display. “I missed that last night.”

  Large brown eyes sweep up and down my body “Don’t even try lying, Miss Walk of Shame. You got all up on that ass last night!”

  “Oh,” I laugh, shaking my head. “I mean, I didn’t see it on the news last night. The TV in the bar was too small.”

  “That’s a shame.” My roommate turns away, and I watch a moment, thinking about how awesome life can be when it finally stops sucking all the time. “So you’re sleeping with him.”

  It’s not a question, and I can’t keep the smile from returning. I’m so damn happy. “He is so hot, Chassy. Last night . . . it happened.”

  “Great big O?”

  “Enormous O. Huge. Unbelievable O. Or Os . . .”

  “Don’t tell me . . .” I watch as my six-foot-two roommate rises from the couch and retrieves her coffee. “This morning he got the call. NASA is sending him to Mars for three years.”

  “No!” I jump up and run to the coffee machine, opening it and dropping in a pod before positioning a mug under the spout and hitting the button. “He has zero interest in space. I haven’t even had that dream since we started seeing each other.”

  “So what do you think it means?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I’m no longer a commitment-phobe?” I wait for the machine to stop gurgling and take my cup away.

  “Are you ready to settle down? Quit your job? Start having babies?”

  My eyebrows shoot up, and I take a sip. “That anchor spot has been the only thing on my mind for months . . .” Another sip, and I know that isn’t entirely true. “Besides Cade’s ass.”

  “Yeah, girl!” Chas laughs, and we both giggle into our mugs.

  LIVE with Kelly and Ryan flashes across the screen, and I jump off the couch. “I’ve got to get ready for work!” Coffee mug deposited in the sink, I scamper into my room to grab my clothes before heading to the bathroom for a shower. “I did think about having his babies after that Saturday at Deadrick,” I say as I pass Chas on the couch. “I don’t know. Should I be thinking about having babies now? I’m only twenty-eight. Do you ever think about having children?”

  “Children bring head lice into the house,” Chas says.

  “Among other things!” I call back, thinking of cute little chubby dark-haired babes and warm fuzzies . . .

  I’m showered, dressed, made up, and giving my roommate air-kisses less than twenty minutes later. We say goodbye, and I leave her in the apartment, curled up on the couch watching Mother, May I Sleep with Danger.

  “It’s a classic!” she cries in response to my snorts on the way out.

  Nerves flutter in my stomach when I get to the studio, and not just because I’ll be seeing Cade again after the most amazing night of my life. It’s very possible everything I’ve been working for is about to happen. Right before I open the door leading to the newsroom, I take a moment to inhale and exhale three times slowly.

  “This is it, Becks,” I whisper as I glance up, saying a little prayer of thanks for yesterday.

  Making my way quickly down the hall, I hear the noise of voices. They sound happy, like a celebration is happening.

  I am not prepared for what I see next.

  A colorful balloon bouquet is tied to the back of a chair, and an enormous sheet cake with Congratulations in rainbow on a field of white frosting sits in the center of the room. It’s almost ten, so for a few brief moments, the entire news department is in the room. The morning show crew is headed home after arriving at two AM, and the rest of us, who will stay until after the six o’clock broadcast are arriving to pick up our assignments.

  Vicky spots me, and she crosses the room quickly to where I’m standing with a half-smile on my face. My mind scrolls through all the possibilities: the mugger story was a huge success, Marv had to make a decision about the new anchor this week . . .

  “Is this for me?” I ask her.

  “Becks . . .” Vicky’s voice is urgent, making me more confused than ever. “I talked to Marv first thing this morning about giving you a raise, possibly rewriting your contract to include an executive news position—”

  “Rebecca!” Marv calls to me over the noise of voices.

  That flutter of excitement is in my stomach. This is it!

  I start to go to where he’s standing, but Vicky’s hand is on my arm, holding me back. Confusion lines my brow, and I notice Cade is standing beside Marv, and his face is tight with what looks like anger.

  That’s when I finally notice Savannah. She’s walking toward the cake with a gloaty expression on her face and a sparkly card in her hand.

  “I was just thanking Cade for supporting my decision in the board meeting yesterday.”

  “I don’t understand.” My voice is breathless.

  I’m speaking more to Vicky than to Marv, and Cade is moving around the bodies making his way toward me. It’s like he’s moving in slow motion. It’s like the entire newsroom goes into slow motion and drifts away from where I’m standing. I’m left alone in a narrow tunnel of humiliation and broken dreams.

  “What’s happening?”

  Marv’s voice is the only loud thing. “Please join us in congratulating Savannah Winston, KHOT’s newest weekend anchor!”

  Applause hits me straight in the gut like a medicine ball, knocking all the wind out of my body. My legs go weak, and I grasp for anything to hold me up.

  Vicky still has my arm, but I pull it away. “Savannah?” It’s a whispery shriek. Cade supported this? He knew? All this time, he knew?

  He’s still making his way toward me, but it’s too late.

  Panic jabs at my wrecked insides and I want to crawl under one of the tables.

  My heart beats so fast I can hear it in my ears, my throat, my mouth.

  It’s over. Everything is over. Cade, my dreams, my plans, my future at KHOT . . .

  I only have one choice left.

  I have to get out of here.

  Cade

  MARV IS A giant dick.

  With his squirrely face preening, he announces Savannah scored the anchor job, and someone produces a bottle of champagne. He beams in satisfaction as he pops the cork and raises a glass, doing an off-the-cuff toast about what a perfect fit she is for the weekend position.

  I focus in on Stone, wishing I was closer to her, but I can’t get through the crowd. Fuck! This isn’t how I’d wanted her to find out.

  She appears frozen as she surveys the room with wide eyes. Her gaze careens from Savannah to Marv to Vicky and then me. She rubs her neck with a hand that trembles, the motion calling attention to the pulse beating rapidly in her throat.

  Get to her, Cade.

  She takes a step back and darts out the break room door.

  “Stone!” I call but she doesn’t acknowledge me, her legs eating up the distance between us as she stalks down the hall, headed in the direction of her cubicle.

  I push past the reporters at the door and jog to catch up with her.

  “Stone, wait a minute—”

  “Get away from me.” She never stops her stride, and her voice is low and shaky.

  She cuts the corner and enters her space, her gaze everywhere but on me as she picks around at the items on her desk. She mutters under her breath as she shuffles papers aimlessly then picks up a scraggly-looking cactus plant and clutches it. About a foot tall, it’s green and spikey with branches that resemble arms.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  She ignores me as she jerks up her blazer and tosses it over her arm. Her gaze scans the rest of the desk, deciding what to take with her.

  “Are you quitting?” My voice is incredulous. I won’t stand for it.

  “How astute of you.” Her voice is cold, her face a shuttered mask as she teeters on her heels for a moment then reaches up to the shelf above her computer to jerk down pictures she’d pinned to a bulletin board.

  There’s one of her and Kevin o
utside the courthouse during the Giovanni trial last year, one of her and Vicky smiling at an office party, and one of her and the other reporters accepting an award at the Broadcast News Association convention in New York last year—all of them had been taken before I’d arrived at the station. It hammers home the fact that Stone has worked at this station longer than my own NFL career. She can’t just toss it away.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Look, don’t let Marv win. This Savannah thing, it came out of nowhere for a lot of people. Marv is way too determined to put her in your spot. It’s weird as fuck, and I promise I’ll get to the bottom of it—”

  “Don’t bother,” she snaps. With the cactus in one hand, she shoves the photos in her bag, pivots back around, and brushes past me to get back out in the hall.

  There are a few stragglers from the break room wandering around, holding plates of cake and wearing smiles. Kevin looks as if he is going to say something when he sees Stone but stops when I shake my head at him.

  This isn’t the time, buddy.

  They give her a wide berth as she powers through them, heading for the door.

  I grab her elbow and flashing green eyes fly up and meet mine. “Don’t touch me, Cade Hill. Don’t you even dare—not after what you did.”

  My mouth flattens. “You can’t believe what he said in there. I had absolutely nothing to do with Savannah getting the anchor job.”

  “It doesn’t matter. My time at KHOT is over. No one wants me here.” Her breath catches, and her chest rises and falls rapidly.

  Without giving her a chance to say no, I take her arm again and steer her in the direction of the sports den. “You aren’t storming out of here without talking to me.”

  She struggles to get her arm back, but with her hands full she’s having a hard time. I take advantage of it and usher her into my office where I shut the double doors and turn to face her.

  Stiff as a board, she stares at me, anger flitting across her face.

  I swallow and heave out an exhale.

  God, I wish I’d told her.

  “I should have told you,” I say softly as I approach.

  Her gaze is hard as flint as she straightens her back even more. “Why don’t you tell me now? Tell me how you helped Marv choose Savannah and how you knew the entire time and didn’t say a damn word to me about it. I told you how much I wanted that job. I told you everything!” She dips her head. “God. I was so fucking gullible. Just when I thought you were . . .” Her voice stops and trails off.