Love Me Like You Do

by Sasha Clinton

  “For your sake, I hope you are.”

  She was definitely going to cry. He could just see it.

  “I’m strong.” A line of water rushed down her cheek. Embarrassed, she sopped it up with the bedsheet. “I’m strong.”

  Jamie battled the urge to reach out to her. “You’re crying.”

  “Strong people can have weak moments, too. Crying doesn’t make me weak. It makes me human.” She blinked back the tears coagulating on the rim of her eyes. “And don’t take my tears personally. They’re not for you.”

  There was an edge to the last sentence.

  His chest contracted. He might be a commitment-phobic, but he still had a heart. He couldn’t see a woman cry.

  “Then who’re they for?”

  “Nobody. I don’t need to cry for people. I felt like crying, so I’m crying. It’s a natural way to release emotions.”

  “Tell me this doesn’t have anything to do with your weight or what I said,” Jamie said, unconvinced by her excuses.

  “What? No. I’m not that insecure. I don’t define my self-worth and happiness by something as fickle as weight. Or what you think of me.” Her voice reverberated with frustration.

  “Good.”

  “Besides, I’m not even fat.” She gave him a determined look. “I’ve only lived life a…little indulgently, which I don’t regret.” Her voice became passionate. “Because those moments when I ate that brownie or those fries...they were happy moments. They were peaceful, comforting moments in a dark day. When I think of whether I can give up that comfort for the sake of being beautiful, I know I can’t. I’d rather be fat and happy, than thin and miserable.”

  “Well, then, why’re you dieting and trying to fit into a wedding dress half your size?” He had to ask.

  “That’s…that’s different.” Bella’s mouth twitched. “That’s for my wedding. I’ll still be eating what I like to eat, but I’ll be eating healthy, too, so I can look perfect as a bride.”

  She pushed her body further into the bed, jumpy.

  “You shouldn’t have to change yourself for someone. Especially someone who is supposed to love you for life, regardless of your weight.”

  Next thing, she’d be starving herself. He’d seen too many women around him go down that path—Hollywood was full of eating disorders.

  “I’m not doing it for someone. I’m doing it for myself,” Bella assured. He felt her dress sliding up against his side. “And now I think I’ll be going.”

  “Weren’t you going to stay here?” Jamie tried the classic cop-out excuse.

  “I can’t. It’d be too awkward to do the walk of shame in the morning.”

  Her uncomfortable expression said it all.

  “So this is the last time?”

  “Yep.” She bit her nail, shuttering her eyes. “You’ve made yourself clear, and I’ve made myself clear. I’m not looking for forever with you, but I’m looking for forever with someone. Unless I end this now, my forever with that person might slip away.”

  Jamie dropped his hands to his sides. Even the knowledge that he’d been right about her didn’t offer any solace. Because being right meant that she’d never see him again. All she cared for was a fake sense of security and a wedding ring. And it infuriated him, because he couldn’t—didn’t want to—give her that.

  “You’re young. You want to enjoy life. You want to play around. And I don’t blame you.” She stretched her neck. “But having someone to love me is all I’ve ever wanted. It’s all I want.”

  He bowed his head. “Fine. It’s your decision. What can I say?”

  “Thanks for tonight. I had a great time.” There was hardly any warmth in her tone when she said that.

  She waddled to the living room. Then without saying good night, she slammed the door behind her.

  *

  Fall semester started with the promise of a great things.

  The Journal of the American Philosophy Association accepted her paper on ‘The Political Theory of Possessive Individualism’ for publication. Her landlord agreed to not increase rent for another year. The matchmaking agency she’d recently joined managed to hook her up on a date with a hotshot banker. Best of all, though, Troubled Domesticity aired to severely disappointing ratings, which meant ABC wouldn’t be renewing the show for a second season. Which in turn meant she wouldn’t have any reason to see Jamie again.

  All in all, life was good.

  Except for the moments when it wasn’t—the moments when she thought of her one night of wild passion. And wanted it again. And again.

  After their one-night stand, she’d ghosted. Deleted his number. Deleted his friend request on Facebook. Signed up to a matchmaking agency.

  Jamie didn’t want long-term and she didn’t want heartache from another commitment-phobic male.

  As she stared at the photo of Mr. Banker Extraordinaire on her screen and her heart sagged lower than her droopy butt cheeks.

  Three months of not dating had been wonderful. No bikini waxing appointments to worry about. No crash dieting before a date. No Spanx. No agonizing over what to wear. No stress.

  But she needed to put a ring on it, so she was going to have to go back to kissing a hundred frogs to find her prince.

  “Hey,” a familiar voice called to her, while she was spacing out in front of her computer screen and wondering how she could get Mr. Hotshot Banker to shave off all that facial hair.

  Her heart jumped out of her chest.

  Jamie.

  Pushing the door to her office open, he materialized, along with Rosie.

  Inwardly, Bella broke into a happy dance. Wait. She had no reason to be happy. Hadn’t she, after thinking over things, decided that Jamie was not right for her? She wanted more than the no-strings attached sex he was willing to offer.

  “What’re you doing here?” Bella felt ugly with her nerdy glasses on, but didn’t dare remove them, for fear of seeming desperate.

  Jamie dug his hands into the pockets of his faded, distressed jeans. “Rosie wanted to see you.”

  Emerging from behind Jamie’s back, Rosie waved a plastic bag with Target’s logo.

  For a change, she was wearing jeans and a sweater, instead of her usual over-the-top outfits.

  Traipsing across the small, messy office, she dropped the package in the middle of Bella’s desk. “Gift for you.”

  “What’s...” Deciding it would be quicker to see what was inside rather than asking, Bella pulled out the pink T-shirt inside the cover. It had the words Miss Gorgeous sewn across with sequins. The caption on her old T-shirt had been different, but Bella liked this one more. Seemed to be about the right size, too.

  “It’s a replacement for the one I ruined that day,” Rosie offered, looking embarrassed rather than apologetic.

  “Did you ask her to do this?” Bella jerked her head in Jamie’s direction, pointing him an accusatory look.

  She knew he felt guilty about her first bad day at the set, and he might be trying to get her in bed again with this move, but she didn’t need a new T-shirt. Nor did she need an apology that wasn’t sincere.

  “Nope. I’m only here because Rosie pestered me to come with her.” He raised his hands in a gesture.

  That surprised Bella. Rosie apologizing to her on her own accord? What was happening in the world these days?

  Trailing her gaze to a very queasy Rosie, she said, “Thanks. I’m touched.”

  Rosie scooted over to the chairs in front of her table and parked her slim, shapely rear on one of them.

  “I’m sorry. I was mean that day,” Rosie’s shoulders flumped. “You know, I thought about it...and it doesn’t matter that you got the role easily. I mean, I’m so gorgeous and talented. You could never hope to compete with me. I’ll consider it God’s way of compensating.”

  She and Jamie both sucked in their lips, trying to suppress an untimely snigger. This girl had unflappable self-confidence.

  “That’s generous of you.” Bella accepted the gift.<
br />
  “Wow, these old books are cool.”

  Mercurial, Rosie forgot about the apology and her attention flitted to the next shiniest thing—which happened to be Bella’s bookcase, where volumes of golden bound books were stacked next to each other.

  “Let’s take a selfie together for my Instagram.” The phone in her hand was quickly brought to the correct angle.

  Puckering her mouth and making a duck face, she snapped before Bella was ready. When Bella opened her mouth to suggest that they try again, Rosie waved her concern away.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make you look thin.”

  “I’m okay looking the way I am.”

  Rosie squinted, like Bella had just admitted to being an alien.

  “I can’t have my followers thinking that I associate with...” Her irises swam all around the whites of her eyes, struggling for something non-offensive. “Unhealthy people.”

  Bella let it slide. She could have argued, but Rosie wouldn’t change her mind. Whose mind had she changed by arguing, anyway?

  Bryan had treated her like something pitiful until the end, despite the million arguments they’d had about how degraded she felt when he made unkind comments about her body.

  “He’s hot.’ Rosie’s attention was drawn to a hot grad student drifting outside her room, and she pursued him immediately, leaving Bella alone with Jamie.

  The heat from the radiator instantly became fifty times more stifling.

  X-rated images flickered before her eyes. His tongue whispering dirty words over her pussy...his cock driving into her. Heat burned her face and spread down to her stomach, between her legs. Why was she making herself miserable? Why?

  “What’re you gonna do now the show’s over?” Bella asked, dispassionate. “Back to LA?”

  “Not until next year.” Jamie slid into one of the chairs meant for her students. “I sub-let my place until the end of the year, so I’m going to stay and experience the miserable New York winter.”

  Bella opened the window, to ward away the oppressive heat...most of it coming from her body. “You could write something in the meantime.” With a loud clap, she gave herself an ultimatum.

  Snap out of it, you fool. Jamie and you cannot be. “Love Me Like You Do Part 2. You could write a sequel.”

  “You really love that movie, don’t you?”

  “The ending was kinda incomplete. How about giving Damien and Maddie another chance? Maybe kids and a happier ending.”

  “Yeah, that’d be nice.” The disinterest on his face started to change...but then it was back to apathy. “But I can’t.”

  Clearly, he didn’t mean Maddie and Damien when he said that. The way he squared his jaw at her told him he meant them.

  “Too bad.” Bella scribbled intelligible letters with her pen. It kept her distracted from his face.

  “By the way...Kelly McKenna, who played Maddie, is in town today. She’ll be at a party at Grant’s...my dad’s place. Wanna go?”

  “Kelly McKenna? Grant Star?” Her eyes widened and sparkled, full of excitement. She’d never met Grant Star before, but she wanted to. He was a legend. And Kelly McKenna....could she squeal in fangirl excitement?

  Jamie wiped the screen of his phone with his thumb pad. “I’ll call you when she’s there.”

  “Oka—” Bella sliced off her approval midway. What was she thinking? What was she doing?

  She had a date with the boring investment banker tonight. She couldn’t go to Grant Star’s townhome. Besides, hadn’t she’d decided to stay away from Jamie?

  Battling the lump in her throat, Bella breathed. “I don’t think I can make it. I have a date with a banker. And...lose my number. We have no reason to remain in contact any longer.”

  “Sure we do. What if you change your mind and decide that you want to sleep with me again?” He seemed way too confident for that to happen.

  Bella crushed the pen in her grip. “That’ll never happen.”

  Unless he updated his stance on matrimony, she wouldn’t waste any more time on him. She needed to be hunting for good, marriage-minded men to date. And losing weight for her wedding.

  “Okay. But can’t we remain friends? We used to be friends.”

  “No, we were not friends. We just hung out on the sets sometimes...”

  “And had sex—”

  “Once,” she asserted, uncomfortable that he was bringing that up now.

  “Twice,” he corrected.

  “An irrelevant detail.”

  “You didn’t think it was irrelevant when you were coming.”

  Someone must’ve dunked her face in hot water, because she felt scalded. Why the hell did he have to remind her of that mind-blowing orgasm? This was already hard enough without having to fight her hormones.

  Bella coughed. “What matters is that we have different life goals. You’re leaving for LA in January. End of discussion.”

  Yes, she liked him. He was funny, hot, ticked off most of the boxes on her list. But sacrifices had to be made if she hoped to get married before her thirty-fifth birthday and find true, lasting love.

  Jamie made puppy-dog eyes at her. “But can’t we have fun until then? In three months, I’ll be gone, and you can go back to husband hunting.”

  Impatiently, she clicked her fingers. “I’ll only have eight months left by then. I can’t waste time. I won’t get any money back if I cancel in January.”

  Jamie leaned forward. Yep, that was definitely an eye roll from him.

  “What do you know? I paid a fortune for that ballroom.”

  Unlike him, her dad wasn’t a Hollywood star, and she didn’t have millions of dollars lying around.

  “You could always sell it to another couple,” Jamie suggested, then realized the error. “If it ever comes to that, which I doubt it would. Your ‘The One’ is right round the corner, I’m sure.”

  If there was cynicism, it was so layered that she couldn’t catch it.

  Bella gave her head a shake. “I’m not selling anything to anyone. I’m going to get married next fall. Period.”

  Jamie climbed to his feet lethargically. He must’ve realized that he couldn’t dent her determination. “If you change your mind about meeting Kelly, text me. Just make sure you don’t wait too long.”

  There was a warning seething under his final words. He made one final pass at tempting her with a seductive swipe of his eyelids, but she’d swum around in the dating pool long enough to know the difference between guppies and sharks.

  “All the best with your move to LA,” she finished. “I’m sure you’ll find plenty of fishes in the beaches there.”

  A double reference, which he pulled his mouth at.

  “But the species I like is native to New York.” He winked, grasping her insinuation.

  “There are no fish species native to NYC.”

  “Oh, there’s one. Its name starts with B.” He parked his fingers under his chin, pretending to be thinking.

  Bella hammered her fist on the table. “Get out.”

  “Someday, you’re going to regret saying that.”

  He was right.

  Someday, she might. But that day wasn’t today.

  Chapter 10

  Until today, the biggest achievement in Grant’s life had been winning the Academy Award for best actor in 1988.

  But here he was, twenty-eight years later, surveying his second major accomplishment—an aging woman in khaki shorts and a gray T-shirt. Persuading Eve to spend the Labor Day weekend with him at his lodge at Whitefish lake was surely worthy of an Oscar. Even two.

  He’d pulled out all his acting chops to cajole her into taking this weekend getaway with him. And he’d charmed lady luck, too—Carla was in France on a cultural exchange for three weeks, and Alana’s fall semester had begun. So no annoying kids to disrupt the adults.

  As much as he had grown to find Carla tolerable—he’d met her five times after she’d been out of the hospital—he really needed some alone time with Eve.

>   She already despised him and distrusted him. Then she hadn’t gotten the promotion she’d been coveting. And boy, had she taken that out on him. Last week had been a cold war. He’d been afraid that she’d resign and refuse to come with him to Montana this weekend, but she had shown up. Kudos to her commitment.

  Still, he’d be surprised if this weekend didn’t turn out to be an unqualified disaster.

  “It’s hot.” Eve’s breaths were labored as she navigated the dusty, dirty trail they were walking on. “I didn’t expect it to be so hot in September.”

  “It’s only the beginning of September. The weather will start changing soon.”

  Flattening pebbles, dirt, and leaves under the soles of his shoes, Grant gazed at the blue sky. There were no tall buildings cutting the sky into a jigsaw puzzle piece, the way there were in the city. Only miles and miles of nature and nothing else.

  Having grown up on a ranch in Ellis county, nature spoke to his heart. It was the reason he took two trips a year to his property in Montana. He enjoyed living in the quiet. Although, since adding a spa and restaurant to his lodge and opening it to tourists, it was getting noisy here, too. Time he bought that vacation home in Miami he’d had his eye on for a year. Rumor was, it was back on the market and selling for a steal.

  “Carla wanted me to let you know that her YouTube channel has three thousand subscribers,” Eve’s eyebrows arched. “I still don’t know what she’s doing in her room behind the camera. She doesn’t tell me anything. It isn’t something...weird...right?”

  “If you want to see what she’s doing, just check out her YouTube channel. CarrieComedy.”

  “Comedy?” Eve’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know she was interested in comedy. She’s always liked science...”

  Inner conflict showed up as a darkening of her irises. Sticking to his oath of never dishing out parenting advice, Grant slipped his fingers between hers, holding her hand as they continued walking down the lakeside.

  The corners of her lips curved up slightly. It was a small thing, but it was significant to him.

  “Sally told me you asked the board to promote me.” Eve looked more relaxed than she had all week. “Thanks.”