Fcking selout got what he desrved
Dude, ditch the corporate chains and go back to making kick ass clips
Some of it was variations on what Wyatt had read over the past week, and coincided with the dropping views each day. But some of the remarks were in a brand new vein.
That’s fiona? You’re fucking her right?
I can’t believe you gived up truer love for someone like that. Pig.
Maybe you’re show wudn’t suck so much if it was just the redhead. Takin off her clothes.
As Wyatt read more comments about Fiona, he frowned. For almost every one, someone named lumb3rjck76 jumped to her defense. It looked chivalrous at first.
Watch your mouth. She’s a person.
Hey, asshole, apologize.
Then he reached the comment that said, fucking beotch needs to smile. I’d rhape her ass until she was happy.
Lumb3rjck76 replied with, When I find out where you live, I’ll personally ensure you know how unpleasant a threat that is.
With the chivalry, it could be Parker using an alias, but the tone wasn’t his. Not from what Wyatt had seen. Then again, the guy was part chameleon, so perhaps—
Don’t listen to these assholes, gorgeous. I’ll meet you at your next stop and make sure nothing happens to you. Lumb3rjck76 had repeated the same comment every fifty or so, meaning it always appeared on-screen.
Ice ran through Wyatt’s veins. It was too familiar. Or he was overreacting. He prayed for Fiona’s sake it was the latter.
His cellphone rang, jarring him from the trip down memory lane. He glanced at the screen, snarling when he saw his boss’s name.
Wyatt swiped Answer. “Morning.” He kept his tone cool.
“How’s the contract chasing going?” Brett’s voice was snide.
“Fantastic.” Wyatt wouldn’t rise to the challenge of a pissing match. “Grammie’s is still my priority, and as of now, it looks like we’ll be able to make onsite adjustments to this office, to meet their requirements. Once I’m done here, on to the next one.”
Brett knew this—he’d signed off on Wyatt’s trip—but he also knew that a deal like this meant Wyatt would climb over him on the promotion ladder.
“Keep on top of it.” Brett sounded anything but sincere.
“Sure. Anything else?”
“Now that you mention it... Some guy called the main offices looking for you. Devin, maybe?”
The name yanked back Wyatt’s uneasiness about the comments on yesterday’s video. He might be hoping for Fiona and Parker to fail, but he didn’t wish a stalker on her. Or anyone. “Thanks for the heads-up. I have to be at the local offices soon. I’ll keep you updated.” He disconnected before Brett could reply.
As Wyatt finished getting ready for work, a sick ache gnawed at his ribs. He was never a direct victim of Devin’s obsessions, but he’d been an ignorant accomplice on more than one occasion. He’d never forgiven himself for unwittingly helping Devin stalk and assault a series of women.
And he didn’t want to see Fiona end up in a similar situation to Devin’s victims.
Chapter Ten
A haze lingered in Fiona’s mind, keeping her on the edge of sleep and treating her to snippets of the night before, with Parker. She didn’t know what was most appropriate—wow or finally or what have we done. Scratch that. She wasn’t thinking that last one.
She rolled over in bed, and when she felt the cool sheets next to her, consciousness tore in. She opened her eyes to see Parker’s side of the bed empty and a soft glow filling the room. Kind of like what a laptop would cast.
Most of the feathers tore away. She sat up and turned toward the source of the light. Parker sat at the desk, computer open, headphones on, and video editing software up.
Irritation snaked through her, followed by a memory of his irritated accusation that she didn’t understand what he was doing. Why it was so important to him. She tempered the hurt of him abandoning the warm bed in favor of his channel. The clock said it was almost six, and she rarely saw him up before nine, so this must be important.
She wrapped the comforter around her like a cape and climbed from the bed. When she touched his shoulder, Parker jumped.
He had his earphones off in a heartbeat and whirled to face her. “Fuck. You scared me.”
“Sorry. Are you getting a lot of work done?”
“I am.” He cast his gaze away from her. “But I’m glad you’re up.”
Her gut did a flip that ended in a nosedive. “Why’s that?”
“I’m sorry about earlier.”
“You mean the fighting? The scene with Cora? It needed to happen, even if the situation wasn’t ideal.” The gnawing on the lining of her stomach insisted that wasn’t what he was talking about.
He shook his head, gaze turned to his feet. “That. What came after. All of it. I shouldn’t have— We don’t— I’m sorry.”
He meant the sex. Anger and hurt surged forward, making her want to gag. “Of course you are. In that case, me too. It was an outlet, right? It didn’t mean anything? We were both hurt. You’ve been under a lot of stress. Nearest port in a storm.” As she spoke, she yanked on her clothes. She shoved everything of hers into her duffel bag, not caring what order it landed in as long as the zipper still worked after.
“Red.” He grabbed her wrist.
She jerked from his grip. “Don’t.”
“Where are you going?” He was finally looking at her.
Away from the guy who was supposed to be her best friend but used her for sex. Really good sex. Who she would have been happy to talk with about what happened, agree they were better off as friends than as lovers—anything other than I’m sorry I fucked you. “Anywhere that isn’t here.”
“Fiona, please. It came out wrong. Stop and we’ll work through this?”
“I’m taking the shuttle to the airport.” She didn’t know why she was sharing her plans with him. “If you find me at our gate before your flight, I didn’t decide to take a different plan home.” She slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder and placed her hand on the doorknob. “But don’t hold your breath.”
She stalked toward the entrance, unable to keep a few simple words from repeating in her head. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. Like it was all his decision? And it was a bad one, at that?
Then there was the fact that he refused to look her in the eye.
Tears welled up, and she wiped them away until her cheeks stung. She didn’t dare look at anyone, let alone talk to them. She kept her gaze on the ground—like Parker had—and made her way out to the shuttle.
Fortunately, it was empty. She sat near the back, not sure if she wanted Parker to chase her down now or let her walk away with any dignity she might have left.
The driver climbed aboard and glanced at her. “Waiting on anyone?” he asked.
Apparently not. Fiona couldn’t make her voice work. She settled for shaking her head.
The vehicle rumbled to life, and a moment later, they were navigating city streets. They stopped at three other hotels. Fiona was grateful only a few other people boarded and they all sat in their own corners.
As the road rumbled through the floor and the tires thwapped on pavement, she was lulled back toward her center. Last night she knew there was something off about the interaction. She wanted it. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d lain in bed fantasizing about being with Parker, especially a few years back. And the sex was good. Better than, even.
But it was for the wrong reasons. She knew it while they did it, though it was easier to admit now, with the sun cresting the mountains and glinting through tinted glass.
That didn’t mean Parker’s approach to breaking the news hurt any less. His apology looped in her head, crawling under her skin with each repeat, until she wanted to scream for it to stop.
She pressed her palms to her eyelids until stars danced in her vision, and gritted her teeth, willing the ache out of the memory.
The bus slid
to a stop, and she opened her eyes. They were at the airport. Did she buy a ticket home, or wait six hours for her scheduled flight and for Parker?
She didn’t know, but at least she had a little while to figure it out. She grabbed her bag, gave the driver a brief smile, and made her way inside. Fiona headed toward security. She could check in online, or purchase a new ticket the same way once she figured out what she was doing.
There were only a few people queued up for the metal detectors, and Parker stood near the rear of the line, scanning the airport.
She wanted to hide her smile, but it slipped out, complete with the conflict that raged inside. “How did you get here before me?” If she said anything else, it would either be an accusation or a plea to forget about what an asshole he’d been. Neither felt like the right answer.
“I HITCHED A RIDE WITH someone else checking out. I wanted to stop you before you got on the shuttle, but I didn’t know if you would listen.” Parker enjoyed the fuck out of last night, then falling asleep with Fiona in his arms, and waking up next to her.
But guilt gnawed at him. That same lingering feeling that never left, and surged back so strong after Cora’s accusations, it threatened to devour him. He did hate what he did to Gretchen and the way he left things with Fiona after.
He’d needed to catch up on work this morning, so he tried to use that to clear his head. Instead, he stumbled on a series of comments on yesterday’s video. Drooling over Fiona. Offering to take her away from him.
That led him to pull up old clips he had of her. Movies he’d promised would never see the light of day, because she was embarrassed to be on camera, with her laughing. Smiling. Being carefree.
And when she woke up, he was in that half-gone place, mentally, that made his words come tumbling out all wrong.
“Let me try again, please? To explain what I mean, that is,” he said now.
She clenched her jaw and folded her arms, but she stepped away from the security line. “Knock yourself out.”
“I...” He had to get this right. “It wasn’t a mistake. The sex, that is. I don’t regret it. Fuck—it was incredible. But I don’t want to relegate our relationship to the strictly physical. You’re my best friend, and I’d never forgive myself if I lost that in favor of getting laid.”
She gave him a half-smile. “That’s only marginally better, but I understand where you’re coming from.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Friends first. Last night was a remnant of the past. One of those things we didn’t get to explore back then, that’s loomed over us forever, and now we’ve gotten it out of our system.”
That wasn’t what he’d been going for, but if she was forgiving him, they could work out the rest later. “Come to Indiana with me?”
“I’d like that.”
He rested a hand at the small of her back and nudged her into the security line again. The brief contact seared through him with longing, and he suppressed the desire. They’d figure this out, but letting lust take the lead wasn’t the way.
They shuffled through the line, silence hanging between them. This wasn’t right.
On the other side of the metal detector, they put their shoes back on, stuffed phones and wallets away, and grabbed their carry-ons.
He didn’t know if he was relieved or not when Fiona’s phone range. She glanced at the screen. “It’s Nick.” She swiped. “Hey... Right next to me... We’re in the airport. Hang on. Let me find someplace quieter.”
Parker took the cue and guided her toward an empty departure gate.
“Just a sec,” Fiona said into the device. “Okay. You’re on speaker.”
“Hey.” Nick’s greeting sounded filtered.
Parker wasn’t in the mood for chit chat, but this was most likely business. That, he could do. “Morning.”
“I caught the feed yesterday.” Sympathy filled Nick’s voice.
“You and about a million other people.” Parker should be grateful for the high views. The video was going viral. He couldn’t plan for this kind of publicity. That didn’t mean he liked what caused it.
Nick gave a nervous chuckle. “Including Grammie’s. But first, are you two holding up okay?”
“We’re fine. Great, even.” Fiona answered before Parker could. “Tell him what you told me.”
“Right,” Nick said. “So, like I said, I talked to Grammie’s. They love your numbers from yesterday’s feed, and since the footage didn’t paint them in a bad light, they’re okay with that, too. They want to extend the contract with Parker to be a month to month, starting with two months up front. They’ll give you more freedom to film what you want, as long as you don’t mar their name.”
“That’s awesome.” Parker clung to the excitement. It was nice to have a little good news this morning.
“But...” Nick trailed off.
Fiona frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“You’ll like it even less when I tell you what it is. They want more of you on camera, Fiona.”
Parker clenched his jaw. “She’s not part of the contract.”
“And he doesn’t speak for me.” An edge lined Fiona’s voice. “That’s fine. I’ll do it.”
What? Parker stared at her, looking for some hint of what she was thinking. She looked back, expression blank.
“It’s not going in the contract,” Nick said. “It’s just a request. Think about it before you decide. Are you two certain you’re okay?”
“We’re fine.” Fiona’s answer came too quickly and was too sharp. “Look, we’re starting to draw stares. You know—speakerphone plus airport equals rude. Can we call you back when we get to Indiana?”
“Sounds fair. Talk to you soon,” Nick said.
Fiona disconnected and dropped her phone back in her purse.
“Are we really fine?” Parker asked. He knew the answer was no, but wanted to give her a chance to speak her mind if she had more to say.
She scrubbed her face, a sigh escaping through her fingertips. “It hurts. I’m still processing, but we’ll get there. We’ve had cracks for a while now. This way we give them attention, right?”
He returned her smile, wondering if his looked as strained. “Exactly. We’ll find that middle ground we should have worked through years ago.” Or they’d lose a wonderful thing. He wouldn’t let that happen, though. He refused to.
Chapter Eleven
Parker insisted Fiona take the window seat. He was going to be working most of the flight, anyway. “I’ve put too much off, the past couple of days. I need to catch up on edits,” he said.
She gave him a bright smile. At least she remembered to sync the books on her phone this time, so she’d have something to read. She settled into The Siren, as the plan climbed toward cruising altitude. The book reminded her of the last flight she took and that Wyatt’s business card was tucked in the pocket of her purse.
She had a feeling he wasn’t the kind of guy who apologized after sex as though he was the sole reason it happened.
The thought left a bitter taste in the back of her throat, and she hated herself for having it. And what was she doing, making out with one guy, fucking another, then letting her mind drift back to the first?
She was unattached. She forced the words to stick in her head. She didn’t have any sort of exclusive arrangement with either of them—she glanced at Parker, who had his head down as he worked—and no one seemed to be interested in redefining things.
Her mind drifted into the vividly erotic world on the page.
An hour or so into the flight, Parker nudged her. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.”
He slipped his headphones over her ears. The gesture pinged inside with familiarity, longing, and a resentment she didn’t like. He turned his laptop toward her and said, “I want your thoughts.”
It was a video on the Rinslet Media’s channel. A petite brunette with blonde roots stood in front of a green screen that shifted scenery when she spoke. “Hey,
world. Chloe Nielson here. For those of you who don’t know, I’m the corporate representative for this year-long affair. I know—sounds kind of dull, right? But I swear to you we want this competition to be anything but.
“This message is for our contestants. It’s been a great week one, and all of you are doing great. We hope your subscribers love what they’re seeing as much as we do, but we’ve got a little issue with your streaming. Each and every one of you.”
Fiona frowned. That didn’t sound good, so why was the woman grinning?
“You guys are doing a great job of keeping it clean and running smoothly. Even your live feeds are going off without a hitch. But let’s be honest. Part of the reason millions are tuning in is for the unscripted content. It’s time for your first challenge. In the next week, every single one of you will be given a time and a place and twelve hours’ notice. Nothing else, though we promise to keep it legal. This is corporate-sponsored content, after all.”
Fiona’s thoughts drifted over the impact of something like this. It meant Parker had to step into the unknown and keep the cameras rolling in order to stay in the competition. Her instinct was to recoil, but the longer the idea rolled in her head, the more she liked it.
She handed Parker back his headphones.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“It sounds”—terrifying—“like a lot of fun.” The randomness had an odd kind of appeal. “I’m in.”
Parker looked surprised. “As in in, in? Are you going live with me?”
Was she? “Yes.” Agreeing made her gut churn, but it also made her pulse race with excitement. “Absolutely.”
Besides, it would be a good chance to show Parker how emphatically she agreed with the idea they were friends and nothing more. Hell, she’d play wingman if he wanted.
The conversation drifted off again, and a comfortable silence fit between them as they disembarked and caught a shuttle to the hotel.
Within a few minutes of checking in, Parker had his laptop out again. “I’m not caught up yet. I’m sorry. Give me a few hours—I’ll hurry—then we’ll go get dinner. See the city.”
Red Hunted_An MFM Ménage Romance Page 7
