by Aja Cole
I swallowed hard, turning in his arms, and draping my arms loosely around his neck and shoulders. I avoided meeting his gaze. I didn’t need anything else to mess with my sanity. After a moment of hesitation, I rested my head on his chest, and I felt him rest his chin on top of my hair.
We moved like that for long moments, me following his steps.
Dancing to a song that only we could hear.
Have you ever had a feeling where your soul quieted? I’d been on the go since the moment I got back to the US from my visit abroad. I’d thrown myself into my coursework and internships, and then went to work a semester earlier than I’d been scheduled to. My mind never stopped.
But it did then.
I wasn’t thinking about design, or a client, or this fabric and that. I wasn’t thinking about my ten-year plan and how far away or close I was to certain goals.
I was thinking about how hard his body felt against mine as we swayed in the silence for god only knew who long. I was thinking about how strong his arms felt around me, and how the pull between us was something I alternatively hated and missed.
“Thea,” he whispered, and I tipped my head up, instinctively lifting on the balls of my feet to be closer to him. We were about to do something we were going to regret, but I couldn’t find anything in me to motivate me to stop it.
I could feel his breath coasting over my parted lips and I let out a small sigh before I could take it back. Just a few more centimeters…
THIS IS HOW WE DO IT!
The loud trill of my phone had me hitting earth again hard. I shook my head as I backed away from him, and he stood there with a dark cast to his face, piercing me with his eyes. I groped for the phone on the little table under a huge mirror, and refused to look back at him as I answered.
“May I speak to Theodora James?” the voice wasn’t one I recognized.
“This is she.” I still didn’t look at Luc, even as he came up by my side.
“Would you care to comment on the allegations that Luciano Silva assaulted you?” My head whipped to him and my jaw dropped, as he questioned me with his expression.
Fuck.
We were out of time.
“Amina, what would I know that you don’t know, hm? ¿Por qué me estás haciendo preguntas? This is your job.” Luciano sounded frustrated and I squeezed his hand, silently telling him to cool it a little bit. It wasn’t Amina’s fault that it released earlier than she expected it to.
No, we’re not going to talk about why I was holding his hand on the way to the charity gala. He’d grabbed it when we got into the car, and I figured we both could use the little anchor since now the real test would begin.
The information was probably already making its rounds through small circles, and they apparently did have my name. We hadn’t anticipated that.
All we could do now was put all that practice to use.
I’d already been acting, sort of.
I’d made myself tense up whenever Luc got near. I forced myself to be super aware of him, like he was a stranger, instead of the natural comfort I felt.
It wasn’t good. None of this was good. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one whose mind was clouded by the close contact, because he didn’t seem to be trying to separate himself either. Why the hell wasn’t he running the other way? Instead, he was initiating contact. He was throwing me off my game by not keeping his hands to himself, and he hadn’t even done anything inappropriate yet. All the anger and self-righteousness I’d initially felt? I didn’t know where the hell they’d gone, but I needed them both to come back, pronto.
Before I did something I would regret, when I got back to my regularly scheduled programming, and he was once again an ocean away.
This was the problem the first time around. Everything felt so possible, so amazing, whenever we were together.
It crumbled once we were apart. Once things suddenly weren’t so easy and convenient. That wasn’t real love. It couldn’t be real if it only existed inside a bubble, right? And I’d been so young, too young to make the decision that I’d met the person I was supposed to spend my life with.
If I knew everything we’d done wrong then, why had I even agreed to pretend for now?
12
Theodora
We were like a well-oiled machine.
We had a list of carefully constructed things we’d drop into any conversations with the women that asked too many questions, so when the story hit the papers, the gossipers would remember the things we’d told them.
“I’m glad we finally get some time together after dealing with distance.”
“Having an ocean between us gets a little difficult, but we always make time for each other.”
Those for when the people who weren’t familiar with him inevitably asked how we were together, since he didn’t seem to be American with his accent.
“I met him when I spent a year in Manchester, and I haven’t looked at another man since. How could I, when he dotes on me even miles away?”
“We aren’t perfect and we’ve had issues like any other couple, but we never stay apart for long.”
He hadn’t exactly been a saint, but luckily – he hadn’t been very loose either, so we threw those in to give a little insight into the relationship. If anyone came forward about sleeping with him, we’d say it’d been an off period.
The night became a blur, talking to so many people, fans and not. The cover wasn’t completely perfect, because it was hard to account for five years accurately. But if we had something established, we could work on the rest over the upcoming weeks. The real sell would be the “off-guard” pictures that Amina had hired a photographer to take. Those would go a long way in helping the validity of our relationship, once her “paparazzi” sold the pictures to papers and they ran them. Everyone apparently loved a good secretly taken love-shot.
“Apparently, we have less than an hour left on duty, and we can clock-out,” Luc came up close by my side and spoke in that whiskey-dark voice of his. With his melodic accent, it was like his words were making love to my ears.
“Good to know,” I murmured, leaning into him like a good girlfriend was supposed to. We’d never gone out in public this way, around so many people. We’d spent most of our time together either having sex…or arguing before we had sex. I stared at the painting on the wall, fighting to find some sense of meaning. Its title was “Contemplation.”
Guess it hit the mark, because I was doing a lot of hard thinking trying to understand the littlest bit of what they were going for. There were some crazy shaped people and heads, a bunch of random colors, and I think the blobby thing at the corner was supposed to be an animal.
“Even you can’t possibly see anything worth looking at here.” Luc brought a hand up and rested it on my waist. Suddenly, the fabric of my dress didn’t feel like as much of a barrier as I needed it to. Rational me started to regret all of the exposed skin that he was near.
Like he was listening to my thoughts, his hand shifted up until his fingers were touching bare skin and I shivered. His touch burned me, made me hot and cold in this bizarre way that I was so used to but had forgotten.
“Uh, no. I think this one is beyond redemption.”
“Reminds me of the time we visited that gallery,” he started.
“One of the few times we weren’t looking at the bed sheets,” I finished, stepping away just slightly from his distracting touch. “I thought we weren’t talking about the past.”
“We’ve always made our own rules, why not now?”
“That particular rule was made by us only three days ago. It’s a little early to start changing things up now.”
“It’s never too early, Thea,” he hooked a finger in the back of my dress, keeping me from escaping any further away as he turned me to face him and rested his hands on what seemed to be his favorite place of the night. I guess my hips were kind of big, where else would he put his hands in public? “Look at me.”
I didn’t want to.
“If you don’t want me to kiss you right here, and it not be for show— look at me.”
That had my head popping up.
“What?” my voice was snappy because I was feeling too much and I was irritated. It should not have been so easy! I shouldn’t have been so damned weak.
We were talking about a man who’d been back in the same club he’d met me in, within a month of me being away from him. I’d seen the pictures of the half-dressed hussies sitting in his lap, their tongues so deep down his throat that I couldn’t even see his face. I was grateful to Kimmy for being a good friend and letting me know that my husband was lying to me every time we talked. Now I was throwing the progress I’d made away, with every bit of comfort I felt in his presence. Did all my pain mean nothing? The nights I’d cried myself to sleep? How could I be so willing to just forget those moments just because he touched me or whispered in my ear?
“It’s never too early,” he repeated, an odd twinkle in his blue eyes, “And it’s never too late.”
Surely he didn’t mean what I thought he meant. And why the hell was rekindling our relationship at the forefront of my mind? I was losing it. Hadn’t I just been thinking about dating Matthew? How was my life moving so quickly? I was all over the place.
“It’s definitely too late, Luciano. Don’t get wrapped up in this fantasy, that’s all this is. A game. I’m not some little play-thing while you’re bored. I’m not your girlfriend.”
His face immediately dropped, and any twinkle turned into a spark. A bad spark. “Escuchar muy de—,”
“Did I hear you say you’re not his girlfriend?” an annoyingly sweet voice came from behind me, and I froze. I could’ve sworn I’d been half-whispering and there’d been no-one around us. “I hope you don’t mind if I borrow him for a second then.”
Who the hell had the nerve?
I whirled on my heel, wanting to know who this woman was that was so bold. Did it look like he was single? His hands were clearly lower on my back than they’d be if we were friends. Was she blind? Was she crazy?
“He’s not single.” I looked her up and down. She had money. She gave off the understated glam that people had when they didn’t need to flaunt their bank accounts. I would’ve complimented her taste in the cream sheath if I didn’t hate her on sight for coming onto Luc.
“But you just said you’re not his girlfriend.” She stepped closer, a smile pasted on her face. “Would it have anything to do with the alleged abuse?”
Oh fuck, a reporter.
Bigger problems than her trying to take a man that wasn’t even mine.
“Don’t be alarmed, I’m not here for a story. I just happen to have my ear to the ground on these things. It’s my job to know what kind of bed my company is getting into.”
“Dios,” Luc spoke behind me, stepping up to my side and closer to the woman whose name we still didn’t know. Did he have to get so near her? I didn’t care what she said, until Amina said she could be trusted, I wasn’t believing a damn thing.
“Ah, you recognize me. That’s good. I do have final say over whether that shoot happens next Friday or not.”
Okay, I’d apparently missed something.
“I’m sorry, Luc may recognize you, but I don’t,” I tried to keep my tone as politely inquiring as possible, “I’m Thea. And you are?”
She stuck a manicured hand out, and I shook it firmly. “I’m Addison Hall, corporate marketing director for Pro Gear.”
Finally. At least now I knew that Amina didn’t have us just going to a random charity art event that didn’t seem to be teeming with a bunch of paparazzi or anything.
Damn, I respected her even more now for such a subtle play. This way, it would look like we’d just run into her, and it wasn’t all contrived to keep the deals on the table.
And I’d just fucked it up by saying I wasn’t his girlfriend.
“So…are you two not together? That would be unfortunate. My team and I were very much hoping that these…details that we got wind of, were speculation.”
“No, we are together. You just came in on the tail end of our conversation. It was more teasing than anything,” I forced a laugh, but I could tell she wasn’t buying it. Damn, what could I do? I knew the most important thing to Luc was the people that looked up to him, not the endorsements, but I was supposed to be helping both stay on track.
“Interesting. Well, we are still making our final decisions, so I’ll be in touch with your people.” She started to turn away, and I felt the opportunity slipping away from Luc. I couldn’t just let things stay this way.
I turned to Luc, placing a hand on his chest, and trying to convey a message with my wide eyes. He needed to go along with what I was about to say, even if we hadn’t discussed it.
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to tell her, would it babe?” He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t give any other indication that he didn’t know what the hell I was talking about.
Good.
“Tell me what?” she was hooked again, nosy as I’d expected. “I’m very good at keeping things under wraps.”
“I’m not his girlfriend and I haven’t been for awhile,” I saw her face drop slightly before I finished with the most important part of the sentence.
“I’m his wife.”
So much for not mixing the present with our past.
13
Luciano
I hadn’t seen that one coming.
There was a lot about the night that I hadn’t seen coming, but Thea saying she was my wife undoubtedly topped the list.
Dios, and I hadn’t recognized Addison. I’d only met her once or twice, with Amina being the main go-between. Why the hell she hadn’t mentioned the real reason we were at the event, I didn’t know.
I didn’t know a lot of things that night.
I didn’t know what the hell I’d been thinking, dancing with Thea without music like we were in some bad American sitcom.
Why I held her hand in the car like a couple.
Why I’d said that stuff about kissing her like I meant it…
What the hell was happening?
Hadn’t I learned my lesson about how much she valued me?
It took a lot to make me feel like shit, to take away the confidence I’d earned from playing my sport for years – but fuck, she did it all too easy when she acted like what we’d had didn’t matter.
Here I was, falling into the same pattern, like a bad addict. I couldn’t help it.
Mierda, I didn’t want to help it.
For all the things I’d said, the things I’d vowed when I saw those divorce papers…I wanted her back. I wanted her to really be my wife, not just because it was a ruse. I didn’t want to let her go and only have a year’s worth of memory. I wanted to try again, and hope that this time we were older and wiser.
Of all the women I’d been with, of all the women that chased after me – I couldn’t get the one woman that’d left me behind out of my head. It was like I wanted the pain again. If she’d left me with no explanation before, what would stop her from doing it again if we took a second chance?
I wouldn’t be in the states for long. Could we make distance work this time? Would she come back to England with me? There would be no easy way, whether we tried to make it work or not.
I could play this game, go with this façade and leave when it was all over.
Or I could stop kidding myself, and take yet another chance on this woman that’d captivated me from the moment I saw her.
I watched her from where I was standing at the bar, her animated face as she talked with a couple about what they were thinking about doing for their new baby’s room. Dios, she was breathtaking. When I first saw her, it was lust. The strongest lust I’d ever felt, but still lust.
Now I knew her, or who she’d been. I knew what it was like to wake up next to her and watch her chest rise and fall. I knew how she liked to watch that movie, Titanic, for the express reason of crying because she said that sometimes
you needed a good soul cleansing and tears helped that. I knew what it was like to be in love with her.
I was going to get her back.
She was skittish. She wasn’t the completely giving woman she’d been when we met, and I got the feeling that she’d attribute her new attitude to me. I just wish I knew what the hell I’d done for her to think so badly of me and to throw it all away.
I couldn’t tell her that I wanted to give us a real try. I’d have to play my part, and not be playing. She’d think it was all for show, but it would be real for me. I’d woo her until she decided that she wanted things to be as real as I did.
Just like I’d done the first time.
It was a foolproof plan.
Maybe I needed to talk to one of my mates, make sure I wasn’t being a total idiota about this. I looked at the FP Journe watch that my cousin Manoel gave me on my 21st birthday. It’d be about 2am back home, but he should be up.
He knew all about Thea, he’d been there when I first saw her and had been the one to point her out to me. In a way, I sort of owed him and I valued his insight. He always had a different woman in his life, but to some degree, he understood them.
I looked over at Thea. She was still occupied with the couple, so she probably wouldn’t notice if I stepped outside for a bit and made the call. I could wait, but the sooner I had a second opinion, the better.
I walked towards the balcony area, sliding open the door and stepping out. Pulling my phone from the inside of my jacket, I leaned on the steel railing and dialed the person who I could always count on to tell me shit, even shit I didn’t want to hear.
If this was a fucked-up idea, he’d tell me. I might ignore him anyway, but he’d tell me.
“Hermano! Cómo es el reposo en cama?” Manuel answered the phone, in good-spirits as usual. Probably fresh out of bed with a new woman.
“I’m not on bed rest, capullo. Shut the fuck up. I have to talk to you about some real shit.” My voice was serious, and he caught on quickly. Manuel was fun when you needed it, but he always knew when to get real.
