Roan (Hollywood Binge #2)

by Julia Bright

  “Go rest. I’ve got Maddie covered,” Roan suggested. “We’re done here. Right, McKay?”

  It was that right there that Roan did all the time. In the past, before this week, if she ever took a nap, she’d have to coerce Maddie into one. Not anymore. Roan was filling in all the holes of her life.

  Taking advantage of the offer, Presley rose from the table. “I think I will. Mr. McKay, thank you for being so easy to work with. I wouldn’t have known where to start or what was appropriate.”

  Trace McKay was a younger man, maybe Roan’s age and full of manners. He stood, reaching across the table to shake her hand. “I’ve told you to call me Trace.”

  She couldn’t seem to call him by his first name. He fell in that precarious place of respecting him more than she liked him. Instead of having that conversation with him again, she grinned before turning to Roan.

  “About an hour? Is that too long?”

  “As long as you like. We’re going to Chuck E. Cheese tonight,” he supplied, his eyes growing wide with mock horror. “I’m not sure what I’ve gotten myself into, but we’re going with Zoie’s family down the street.”

  She had to give it to him; Roan was trying. He had to be just as overwhelmed with where he’d found his life as she was with her own, but he seemed to be genuinely adapting more easily than she was. She nodded and again smiled at the attorney before heading to her bedroom.

  “She doesn’t remember me, does she?” Trace asked when they heard the bedroom door click closed.

  “I don’t think so,” Roan said, gathering the paperwork that he and Presley needed to retain. Trace had gone to school with them, at least a year older than Roan. Back then, so many of the student body had mistaken Presley’s quiet unassuming ways with arrogance. That was always funny to him, because the woman didn’t have an arrogant bone in her body. “She’s always seemed to keep to herself. She doesn’t recognize her own value.”

  “She’s beautiful,” Trace added. His faraway tone caused Roan to still his hands and abruptly lift his gaze to see Trace’s head still cocked toward Presley’s side of the house. A flare of possession spiked, and he didn’t try to lessen any of the irritation from his voice.

  “Off limits, dude. She’s taken.” Roan growled the last part of his statement, drawing Trace’s questioning gaze back to him. Fuck. Fraternity brothers never seemed to remember they were now mature adults. A challenge lit in Trace’s gaze, and the smirk let him know what to expect. Being warned didn’t soothe the green-eyed monster ready to claw free.

  “Doesn’t seem to me like you’ve thawed her out much. She’s a good catch. Just got better with all this money. I could take a sabbatical on what you’ve given her,” Trace said. He cocked a brow at Roan and turned fully toward him, Presley all but forgotten in the giving-shit game Roan had unleashed.

  Even knowing Trace played him, Roan sat there staring at the guy, realizing the truth behind what he’d just said. He hadn’t ever considered that. Some guy could see Presley as a meal ticket now. Fuck that. The possession he’d tried to rein in roared past his barriers. Presley was his and always had been. He could feel his entire body heating, and he rolled the tight muscles in his neck and shoulders. The move helped him keep from tackling Trace where he sat.

  “I’m kidding, man. Relax. I was just making an observation.”

  “That shit’s not funny,” Roan countered, making Trace bark out a laugh. Maddie came through the back door, running to the cupboard, and he wasn’t sure he’d been able to mask the anger fast enough.

  “Clyde needs a treat. He pottied outside.” Maddie had paid no attention to his temperament. She dug out a couple doggy bones then had to use them to coerce the puppy back outside. She slammed the door hard in her wake.

  “Man, your life’s different,” Trace said, rising to his feet. He grabbed his folder and his suit coat jacket as he continued. “I’ll get copies couriered over tomorrow. Anything else comes up, let me know.”

  “Yeah. I’m still feeling the need to kick your fucking ass.”

  Trace barked out a laugh at that, all the way to the front door. Roan wasn’t near so gracious as to follow and see him out. The problem was that Trace was right. Presley wasn’t thawing where he was concerned.

  What did he expect? It had only been one week since their worlds reconnected. Roan was doing everything in his power to make up for the past, to do right by Presley. Now, for the first time, he considered a second outcome. What if his best effort wasn’t good enough? Anger fled as fear had him sitting back, absorbing the punch to the gut that the unguarded thought produced. What if he’d truly lost the love of his life? Dread had him shaking his head, ridding himself of the thought. That was too dark to consider. He’d get her back. He had to. Surely.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Five weeks later

  A Cadillac Escalade sat parked on the street in the front of Presley’s house. She eyed the SUV, slowing to almost a crawl as she drove past, trying to identify its owner. When she couldn’t remember ever seeing the vehicle before, she lifted a hand, pressing the garage remote control button while turning into the driveway. As the overhead door started to ride up, Presley prayed that meant Roan was off in his sports car with one of his buddies. Maddie had a play date scheduled with a neighbor, freeing Roan for the afternoon and early evening and Presley had become strategic in her comings and goings.

  As off-season started winding down, Roan had become friendly with some of his teammates. Hope had her wanting him to go out this afternoon, leave the house with some of those guys and give her a break from his constant presence in her life. Luck wasn’t on her side. Presley swung her car into the driveway and pressed the brakes. Roan’s sports car was parked inside the garage.

  Dang.

  Could there be any chance they’d taken someone else’s vehicle?

  She prayed so and let out an anxious sigh, leaving her car parked in the driveway to help make a fast escape if he were in fact still inside the house.

  Life hadn’t been easy with Roan being home most of the time. Several times over the last month, she’d caught him staring at her like he used to do. With all those meaningful glances cast her way, all the longing in his gaze, life had turned into a bit of a roller coaster ride of anxious moment after anxious moment. She had gotten to where she avoided him at all cost.

  Thank God, this morning she’d heard him on the phone setting up times to view properties tomorrow. She needed him gone or she was certain she’d cave. Heck, she teetered on the edge, struggling to remember why she’d fought him in the first place, and that couldn’t be good. Roan had shown his true colors all those years ago. He’d jumped to too many conclusions and caused unbearable pain. No matter how all this turned out, she would always consider Roan volatile. He was too big a risk, and Maddie didn’t need a father coming and going from her life. Her little girl also deserved a stable, reasonable mother who made good decisions in the best interest of her family. Presley knew firsthand how many years it had taken to get over just one night with him. Just imagine the pain he could cause when he left her again. She might not get past it this time.

  Besides the money she’d sent to pay her mother back for all her help, Presley hadn’t spent one single dime he’d given her. Not one, because she had to always remember that, if he did it once, he’d do it again.

  Lost in thought, Presley gathered her purse from the car and went through the garage to the kitchen door, surprised to hear raised voices before she ever opened the door. Quietly, she came through, listening to an angry female in the middle of a rant she couldn’t quite follow. Presley stood unnoticed to the side of the opening that separated the kitchen from the main room. Age had nothing on the sophisticated woman dressed in a severe-cut business suit and facing off with Roan. Her high heels made her his same height. Roan was an exact carbon copy of his mother or maybe, more importantly, this was Maddie when she grew older.

  “She’s cheap trash, pinning this on you.” His mother’s
tone held deep disgusted venom as she slung those words like a whip. Presley innately knew this was about her, and clearly, this conversation had been going on awhile. His mother had come, cocked and loaded, both guns ablaze.

  “Son, we understand that these things happen. What your mother and I don’t understand is why in the world you’ve gone to these measures? You’re paying her well over what you should. And giving her this house? It’s unheard of in these type situations.”

  Presley took in his father’s laid-back stance. He was a big man, sprawled out casually on the sofa with one arm tossed over the back, his posture in direct contrast to the suit and tie he wore and the callous tone he’d used in describing everything Roan had done for her and Maddie.

  “It is not like that, Father,” Roan tried to explain, slinging out a frustrated toss of the hand as he took a step backward. Finally, Roan scrubbed his hands down his face. She watched him rein in his temper and control his voice as he tried to make his father see his perspective. “I did this. I created this whole situation. I chose this woman years ago…”

  “You chose Elle. She’s such a better fit for our family. Not this woman.” For the first time, Presley saw a magazine in his mother’s hand. It looked like a tabloid. She tossed it on the coffee table separating him from his parents. The page opened to a large picture of Roan and Maddie. Her heart leaped to her throat at seeing her little girl that way. She hadn’t even considered that problem in all this.

  “What happens in college is a slip of the mind. We all go through it. She’s beautiful. I can see why you’d be attracted to her, but a little cheerleading gym on the outskirts of the west side of Hollywood, Roan? Really?” his mother added, effectively minimizing everything Presley had made of herself.

  “What I do is my decision. I’ve been through this with the both of you. It was my fault she didn’t come with me when I left for Chicago. She’s all I’ve ever wanted. I knew it would be an uphill battle with you two, but damn, you guys have got to give me a break. I’m going to make this right for Presley and Maddie,” Roan said, his aggravation getting the best of him. He faced off with his parents, throwing his hands out as he spoke until he left them resting on his hips.

  “Roan, football isn’t going to last forever,” his mother said, and his father immediately backed her up.

  “Son, you have what, five years left, maybe eight if you’re lucky? This has been a fun pit stop for us all. I’ve enjoyed the whole ride, but you’ll come into the family holdings when this is done—where you should be. These two aren’t going to fit well into our lives.” His father did a Vanna White style sweep of the hand, drawing Presley’s gaze back to the magazine lying discarded on the coffee table.

  “You’ve always been meant to work with your father. He worked with his father. You can’t force us to put up with this. For God’s sake, Roan, her home address is a trailer park in Nevada,” his mother said, her contempt took the insult to a whole new level of shame, and Presley honestly didn’t think that was possible after growing up the way she had. This few minutes of standing inside her own house with everything she’d worked hard to achieve diminished as if it were nothing had her back to the insecure little girl who’d never fully understand why people had looked at her with such disapproval.

  “You seriously did a background check on her?” Roan roared.

  That was a good point and drew Presley’s attention back to Roan. They had done a background report on her? Yes, that was absolutely crazy. Silence grew as she looked over to see his father then his mother now staring at her. Her startled gaze collided with Roan’s, and the look of horror on his face jolted her into moving. She quickly cast down her gaze and headed straight to her bedroom.

  “Presley…” Roan started toward her.

  That was the last thing she wanted. She cocked a pleading look his way as she lifted a hand, begging him not to say another word until she could get out of there. She made it to her bedroom, the door not quite closed when she heard Roan’s booming voice. “Goddammit, get out of my house.”

  “Roan!” his father’s angry voice yelled back.

  Presley went straight inside her bathroom, slamming that door. It wasn’t enough to drown out all the yelling, so she turned on the sink faucet before she shrugged her purse off her shoulder, letting it fall to the ground at about the same moment the tears she’d been fighting slipped down her cheeks.

  This last month and a half had all been too much. Ever since that life-altering morning that she’d looked up to see Roan across the street… Since right then, she’d been losing herself. She didn’t even know who she was anymore.

  “Presley, are you in there?” Roan’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.

  “I need a minute.” Her voice cracked, and Roan pushed open the door. The anguish on his face was nothing compared to the torment in her heart. Of course, he hadn’t listened. He came straight for her, right up in her personal space.

  “What did you hear?” Roan reached out for her, bringing both his palms to her face. She quickly darted away from his touch. She couldn’t handle that or him right now. Roan didn’t seem to care and followed her, crowding her, forcing her back against the sink counter as he stepped all the way into her.

  “I heard enough. Roan, please…just go.” She moved to the right, and he put his arms out, blocking her retreat.

  “I’m sorry. They surprised me, but that won’t happen again.” She moved to the left, and he caged her in, bending her backward to keep distance from coming between them.

  “They were right—” she started, but he immediately cut her off.

  “They were one hundred percent wrong. Presley, I’d move heaven and earth to make you happy. You and Maddie are my world,” he said, sounding heart-wrenchingly desperate in his declaration.

  He didn’t get it.

  Roan didn’t understand.

  All this skirting around things, keeping him at a distance all the time, hadn’t made him understand. His parents saw it so clearly, yet this hardheaded man couldn’t see.

  “Roan, no. They’re right. You belong with the Elles of the world. You need to go find one of them and be happy.” Saying the truth out loud crushed her heart on a level she’d didn’t fully understand. She wanted to take back those words and fight for this man who had completely changed her life. Where was that even coming from? Distance. She needed space. She had to be rational.

  Roan held too much control over her. She did things she’d never reasonably do when he clouded her judgement. He was making her crazy.

  “I love you, Presley. I’ve always loved just you. There’s only been you.” Roan swooped in, tugging her forward as he descended, shoving his tongue between her parted lips, kissing her with all the passion she held so deeply in her heart. And Presley eagerly wrapped herself around Roan, kissing him back. He was everything right in her world. She opened, giving herself to him in an exquisitely torturous dance of tongue and teeth.

  Out of nowhere, self-preservation had Presley tearing free. His parents’ mean-spirited, yet very true words echoed in the farthest reaches of her brain. She’d been down this road before. She knew how it ended. Presley pushed at Roan’s chest, fighting him away. “No. No, I can’t do this again. No. I won’t.”

  This time she put purposeful distance between them, heading for the bathroom door. “Presley, please.” Roan’s pleading stopped her at the door, but she refused to look back at him. No way could she tell this lie while looking at the only man she’d ever wanted.

  “No. I don’t want you. I can’t do this,” she said the lie as she darted from the room when she saw him coming for her. He didn’t make it easy. Roan followed her, reaching out to grab her, but she dodged him move for move until the bed was between her and him.

  “Presley.”

  She reached an arm out, pointing a finger to the bedroom door.

  “No. Roan, get out.” Her breath heaved in her desperation. A tense few seconds passed before Roan wrinkled his brow.
Tears were there as she stared at him, but she held firm. “I will not do this with you.”

  Reluctantly, Roan left the room, and she watched him go. She’d never felt so alone in her life. Presley had nothing else to offer. If only the pain of her broken heart didn’t hurt so badly. She covered her mouth as she gave an aching sob, and she reached out to the bed, guiding herself down. This was too much. Her strength of will was broken. She couldn’t take any more.

  This was too fucking much. Shoving his hands through his hair, Roan paced the hall right outside Presley’s bedroom. His fucking deteriorating mental state, the same one that had been holding on by a thread, crawled along his skin, begging him to do whatever Presley wanted to make this right. But nothing was right. Nothing he did was working. She hadn’t given one single inch, and all he wanted in the world was to love the woman who had just sent him packing. Roan spun around, propelling himself away from her bedroom door.

  By God, his bullshit fucking parents ruined everything, and he had to make this right, whirled back around, going for her.

  As if an unseen barrier stopped him, Roan came to an abrupt halt inches from the doorway, again pivoting away. Presley didn’t want him. That was more than clear, today was just the breaking point.

  Much like a caged animal searching for his escape, Roan stalked toward his bedroom, balling his fist, desperately needing to drive it into the drywall of the hall wall. He punched at the air as he circled his doorway then slammed that door just to hear the house creak under the force he’d used.

  Misery coursed through his veins. He’d failed both himself and his daughter. He was never going to be able to make this right.

  His heart broke on a level that left him reeling and frantically looking around the small room to find any way to stop the pain. He had to get out of this house. He couldn’t take another minute of living under the same roof with a woman determined to keep him at a distance.