Authors: Jodie Becker
Bridget shifted closer, her hand gliding across his shoulder
in comfort. Max dipped his head, his throat sore and his body bone tired.
Bridget still rubbed his back, a constant in his time of misery. He slanted his
head toward her and she smiled sadly.
“You ready to go?”
Max nodded and stood. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bryce. Don’t
go anywhere,” he said, patting his friend on the shoulder.
They walked from the room, the surroundings nothing but a
haze as he followed Bridget to her car. He settled in it and listened to the
vehicle rumble to life. Hot air hit his too-cold skin. Staring at the bobbing
dog head on the dashboard of her car, he watched it nod happily as Bridget
drove them home. Hollowness filled his chest and desolation pulled at his lips.
All he could see was Bryce in that bed. Sadly, Bryce didn’t have any family to
speak of. There was no true next of kin for him and Max never bothered to ask
why.
Before long they pulled up in Bridget’s driveway. He got out
and stared at his house. Its dark windows reflected a menacing aura and a
shiver ran down his spine. Fiddling with his keys he remained rooted on the
spot. Unwilling to move, but knowing he had to go to bed.
Behind him, a door creaked open and he turned his head to
find Bridget at her threshold.
“Thanks for tonight,” he said.
Bridget stood half in, half out of her home. “You probably
shouldn’t be alone tonight. Did you want to come inside?”
Did he? It wasn’t a question. He shoved his keys into his
pocket and followed her into the house. It was the first time he’d been invited
and he stood at odds with himself as she disappeared into the small guest room
beyond. The light flicked on, and he heard her moving stuff about. After a few
minutes, she returned. “There’s a single bed in there for you.”
He glanced at the light slanting across the cream tiles.
Four steps to his right and he’d be left alone with his thoughts. Fear iced
down his spine. He didn’t relish the idea of lying in a bed, alone, with
nothing but the “if onlys” keeping him awake. He moved left, toward Bridget.
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather sleep with you. Just sleep, nothing else.”
She scanned his face, mulling over his words. “All right.”
Her soft acceptance made his knees weak and his shoulders
slumped with relief. She stepped around him and he followed her upstairs into
her room. Bridget threw aside a throw pillow and pulled one side of the sheet
down. “Make yourself comfortable, I’m just going to get changed.”
She disappeared into the walk-in closet, the door clicking
shut behind her. Max removed his clothes and hung them over the bed. In nothing
but his boxer briefs, he slid under her sheets and inhaled the smell of fabric
softener. The scent reminded him of home. The door opened, and he swallowed a
sound of awe. Dressed in a satin nightgown that flowed over her curves, she was
a picture of pure seduction.
Bridget flicked off the light. The mattress dipped as she
settled under the sheets, the whisper of fabric teasing his ears. Lying on his
back, he stared at the moon’s silver fingers spanning along the ceiling. He
turned his head to find Bridget on her side with her back to him. Needing her
touch to keep the demons at bay, he rolled toward her and curled his arm around
her waist, drawing her into him. She stiffened as her ass nestled into his lap.
“Shh, I’m not going to do anything.”
Warmth burgeoned in his chest at the feel of her snuggled
against him. It lacked the sexual edge he was used to. Bridget sighed softly
and eased into his embrace. He inhaled the floral scent of her hair and kissed
her on the back of the neck, silently thanking her for tonight. He settled
deeper, listening to her breathing as she drifted to sleep. His heart hurt in
an odd way and he realized he missed this. It’d been a long time since he’d
been in bed with a woman and just slept. He forgot what it felt like.
* * * * *
Max entered Bryce’s room for the fourth day in a row.
Flowers lined his friend’s bedside. Flowers from people in the industry. Not
one from a friend or family member outside it.
“Hey, man, how’s it going?” Max asked as he settled in the
chair.
The heart monitor beeped in response. Bryce remained in his
vegetative state, quiet as though he slept. It still hurt his heart to see his
friend hooked up on machines. He relied on a ventilator to keep him alive and
he wasn’t even aware of anything around him. “You should really open your eyes,
there’s this hot nurse that looks after you in the afternoon. She might be
convinced to give you a sponge bath if you ask nicely.”
Max opened the bedside drawer and pulled out a deck of cards
and a tray of pennies. “You ready to play some Texas Hold’em?”
The ventilator pumped air.
“Right. You think you can whup my ass this time? Yeah, yeah,
talk is cheap.”
After a quick shuffle of the deck, he served them up.
“How much you wanna bet? A nickel? Big spender. All right,
I’ll meet you.”
Max flipped three cards face up onto the table. He checked
his two cards and clicked his tongue. One pair. “Okay, I’m gonna raise the pot.
A dime. You in?”
The machine beeped.
“Right.” Max threw more money onto the table, then placed
the final card. “Let’s see what you got.”
Max reached over and turned Bryce’s cards. “Son of a bitch.
A full house. You have a real good poker face. There is nothing getting by you,
huh?”
Max smiled, pretending Bryce quipped. “Yeah I get it. Double
or nothing?”
“You think that’s going to do anything?”
Max jerked, his mood turning somber as he faced Vane. “What
are you doing here?”
Vane held up a vase of flowers. “I’m here to pay my
respects.”
“He’s in a coma, not dead.”
Lips pursed, Vane’s eyelids dropped to shield his thoughts.
“Yes. Look, I’m just here to drop off these. I didn’t think you’d be here.”
Max tried to rein in his rage. It burned through his veins.
“You have a lot of nerve to show up here.”
Vane stiffened, lines of anger marking his brow. “Why would
you think that? I was his friend too.”
“Yeah, was.”
“You have some balls.”
“Just calling it how I see it.” Max snatched up the cards
and shuffled them, the whisper of the cards filling the otherwise oppressive
silence between them.
Vane stepped farther into the room and placed the flowers
next to a wilting bunch of lilies. Hatred coiled in Max’s gut like a
rattlesnake. It wanted to strike out and poison everything inside him.
“Bryce let me in on a little shoot you had planned for me.”
“I didn’t make him agree to anything he wasn’t open to. You
think that this was something new to him?”
Max glared at Vane. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Vane fingered a dying flower. “You and Bryce were set to
play alongside Demi.”
He tensed with rage and disgust. He knew the type of things
Demi liked to do and they appealed to men who loved to submit. His stomach
rebelled at the thought of doing a shoot with her. “You want to put us in the
same room? To what purpose?”
“You’re reading too much into it. It’s part of the script.
People want a change. Something fresh. That’s all it was. Just part of the job.
There was no revenge plot.”
“It was something, because you wanted Bryce to know what was
coming my way. You like that I have no say in what happens to me. You’re
humbling me. I get it. Satisfied?”
Vane glowered. “No. I might’ve huffed a bit, but I didn’t do
this with any motive except to get good reel.”
Max scoffed. “At what price?”
Vane glanced over at Bryce, something flashing in his eyes
before they glazed over with cool indifference. “I didn’t want to talk to you
about it here, but I need you back on set.”
“I’m not doing anything. I’m taking family time and seeing
to Bryce.”
“He’s in a coma. He won’t know if you’re here or not.”
“I don’t give a fuck if he knows or not. I’m not doing shit
for you. You’re just going to have to deal with it.”
Vane stepped closer, fists clenched at his side. “I gave you
time to recover and say whatever you want to Bryce. With him out of action I
have workloads that need to be shuffled about and you’re going to have to pick
up some of the lag.”
Max stared at Vane, unable to comprehend the callous
actions. “When did you become such a coldhearted bastard?”
Vane’s lips curled back. “Right around the time you wouldn’t
fucking tell me where she is.”
She
was Ruby. Max didn’t understand Vane’s obsession
with finding her. She worked for Dungeon films for a while and was popular for
her chameleon approach. Her hair changed color as often as her roles. Then one
day she just disappeared. Last Max knew, she lived near Dylan, but that’d
changed. Max occasionally got emails from her and sometimes he wrote back. No
address details or telephone numbers were exchanged. Vane used to ask, but he’d
stopped and Max thought he let it go. Clearly he hadn’t. “What is your damn
obsession with her anyway? Plenty leave the industry and you just want her
back.”
“My reasons have nothing to do with you.”
“Like hell they don’t. You ask me to bend over and take it
for the God damned team and over this. I told you before and I’ll tell you
again, I don’t know where she is. It’s clear she doesn’t want to be found or
have anything to do with us. Her life as an adult actor is over.”
Vane’s eyes narrowed. “Two weeks. That’s it. And I want you
back on set.”
Vane stalked from the room and Max threw the cards onto the
table with a curse. Fucking prick. He rubbed a hand down his face, trying to
wrangle in his anger. He glanced at Bryce and smiled wryly. “You’re right. He’s
a dick.” He picked up the deck. “You ready for another round?”
Max played until a nurse came in to see to Bryce, and Max
wished his friend goodbye, promising to see him tomorrow. On the drive home,
his thoughts drifted to Bridget. He’d woken up in her bed that night and just
stared at her. She looked so peaceful. So beautiful, it tugged at something in
his chest. He’d brushed a lock of hair from her face, hooking it around her
ear. Lust took a backseat to something a lot deeper and it scared him. He
couldn’t get out of the bed fast enough. She’d woken up, looking deliciously
mussed, confusion scrunching her face. He’d snatched up his clothes and hurried
his ass out of there, ignoring the hurt in her eyes.
Max rubbed his forehead, his hands tightening over the
wheel. He shouldn’t have acted as he did. He couldn’t give her any proper
explanation for his behavior. Turning into his street, he pondered on
apologizing and putting the brakes on their friendship. He feared the more time
he spent with her put his heart in greater risk. He fucked people for a living
and she wouldn’t be cool with that.
He slowed to pull into his driveway and everything went cold.
Bridget stood outside with another man. He was so tall he dwarfed Bridget. His
blond hair was slicked back, unlike Max’s shaggy locks. Everything about the
guy spoke of confidence and money. Max steered his car into the garage and got
out. He slanted a look at the two and jealousy stabbed him through the chest.
They looked like a golden couple, her eyes shining with interest as she laughed
at something the man said. His voice was smooth and he probably used it to get
women to throw their panties off.
The guy was all class, with his tailored pants and crisp
dress shirt. Max slid his hand along the top of his Lexus. He might have had
money, but Max was a man from middle-class roots. He wasn’t conservative or
soft-spoken. He liked his beer and a good laugh over a barbecue. That guy, with
his pale skin, probably liked coffee at a café and polo.
The disdain in his thoughts stung, but not as much as
Bridget’s next words. “My neighbor.”
Lips tight with bitterness, he trudged back to his house and
threw himself on the lounge to stare moodily at the dead TV. Looked as if he
might’ve gotten his wish. Bridget had a new guy in her life and he didn’t have
to worry about the effect she’d have on his heart. Problem was, he still wanted
her.
Chapter Nine
Bridget watched Max walk to his house, his shoulders slumped
as if the weight of the world pressed on him. She’d been in the process of
saying goodbye to Alex when Max drove in. She hadn’t seen him for a few days
and it hurt her to see the bags under his eyes and the aura of misery he
carried. Her attention on Max was enough to make her trail off.
Alex glanced over her shoulder, a blond brow tipped upward
in question. “What’s up with him? Has a prank gone sour or something?”
Bridget dipped her head, swallowing her shame. “No. I’ve
kind of decided to let that stuff go.”
Alex tipped his head. “Is there is something more going on
here?”
“No, there isn’t,” she denied hotly.
Alex chuckled. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Bridget waved him off. “You didn’t come here to talk about
my feelings—”
“Oh, so there’s feeling now?”
Bridget sighed. He wasn’t going to let this go until he got
answers. “Yes. Sort of. We kind of slept together.”
Brows shot up. “You what?”
“It’s not like that. We
slept
. That’s all. It was
really sweet.”
“When did this all happen? I thought you hated him.”
“He’s different from what I expected.”
“Enough to
sleep
with him,” he said, using finger
quotes.
“We did just sleep. I got him home from the hospital and he
didn’t want to be alone. So I let him sleep in bed with me. It was all very
platonic.”
“There is a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”
“But, the next morning he couldn’t get away from me fast
enough.”
Alex chuckled and Bridget glowered.
“It’s not funny,” she snapped.
Alex wrapped his arm around her shoulder and turned them
back to her house. “You have a lot to learn about guys, Bridget. Guys never
show weakness. He probably felt a little vulnerable. And that’s just not
manly.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. I’m a guy.” Alex glanced over his shoulder at
Max’s house. “So, you think he is the guy?”
Bridget frowned. “What do you mean?”
Alex slanted his head to the side. “Come on. A guy sleeping
in your bed says something, don’t you think? Besides, I saw the way you looked
at him.”
Bridget rolled her eyes. “How did I look at him? I’m just
concerned.”
Alex laughed. “Sure you are. You looked at him like you
wanted to ease all his pain.”
“What does that look even look like?”
Alex’s brows rose, his mouth drooping as a puppy-dog look
entered his eyes.
“I didn’t look like that.”
“Well, it was pretty close.”
She folded her arms. “Fine. I like him. Happy?”
Alex shrugged.
The discussion switched to other, lighter topics with the
promise to organize the cello section wrap party. As Alex drove away, Bridget
contemplated going over to see Max. She hadn’t seen him since that night and
thought it best to give him space. But now, after witnessing the misery on his
face, she knew it was a mistake. She walked across his lawn and knocked on his
door. The man who opened it wasn’t the same one she knew a week ago. His face
bore the marks of strain, his eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep.
“What?” he asked.
Bridget faltered, her heart hurting for him. “I came over to
see how you’re doing.”
He sighed, a weary sound. “I’m fine.”
“I haven’t seen you for a few days. How is Bryce?”
His gaze cut to the floor and he swallowed hard. “Same.”
“How have you been sleeping?”
He huffed out a laugh that lacked humor. “A couple of hours
here and there.” He raked a hand through his hair and pinned her with an
impatient glare. “Is there anything else?”
“I just thought you might need company.”
He looked her up and down and leered at her. “The only
company I want is someone who’s willing to spread her sweet thighs for me. Are
you willing?”
Bridget hesitated.
“Didn’t think so.”
The door slammed in her face. Heart pounding, she stared for
a moment. Bridget knew he was trying to push her away. What he needed was a
friend and a place where he could just be, and she knew just the spot. Once
inside her house, she hurried upstairs to change into something comfortable
before snatching up a picnic satchel and filling it with items from her
refrigerator. After chucking it in the backseat of her car, she marched to
Max’s door and knocked.
It opened, Max’s leer firmly in place. “Changed your mind?”
“I want to take you somewhere.”
His eyes narrowed. “The only place I wanna be taken to is
between a woman’s thighs. If that’s not what you’re offering, I’m not
interested.”
“It’s better than that. Get your sneakers. I’m taking you
out.”“
He eyed her shrewdly.
Bridget pouted. “Don’t make me beg.”
A ghost of a smile flickered over his face before it died
under the weight of his somber mood. “You’re not going to let this go are you?”
“Nope.”
He heaved an aggrieved sigh. “All right. Give me a sec.”
He turned away, leaving the door open. Bridget hesitated,
then stepped inside and tried to conceal her dismay. The times she’d been in
the house, it was kept in pristine condition. White glistening in the light and
everything set in its place. Now pizza boxes littered the tables and half-empty
bottles stood in random places to reveal the depth of Max’s despair. She
fingered an open box with a half-eaten pizza, the cheese glossy and hard. The
scent of moldy bread and refuse surrounded her.
Footsteps trudged down the stairs, and she approached the
base, pasting on a happy smile. She ignored Max’s sour countenance. “Ready?”
“Why are you so fucking cheery?”
She shrugged and reached for him. “No reason. Come on. We’re
burning daylight.”
His lips thinned and she grabbed his hand, half dragging,
half guiding him to her car. As he buckled in, she reversed out and navigated
the peak-hour traffic toward a place where she always felt at peace. The
silence in the car was swallowed by the oppressive misery prevalent on Max’s tight
frame. His fist clenched over his knee, a muscle leapt in his jaw. He angled
his attention out the window, closing all lines of communication as she drove.
Bridget didn’t push and prayed the place she sought to take him would give him
a moment in time without the worry on his shoulders.
“Where are we going?” he asked, his countenance stiff with
suspicion.
She tipped her chin toward him, a small smile on her lips.
“It’s a surprise. You’ll like it.”
He glowered out the window, arms folded, silence falling on
them again. Concentrating on the traffic, she finally pulled off the road onto
a dirt track and into a parking lot made of packed earth. The waning sun hit
the trees to create long shadows along the ground. Stepping out, she slipped
the bag over her shoulder and waited for Max to exit the car. The wind
whispered through the branches, bringing with it the scent of nature and the
rustle of leaves.
Max frowned at their surroundings and the signs pointing to
various tracks. “Are we going hiking?”
“A nature walk. It’s not as strenuous as a hike.”
“I’d much rather fuck.”
Bridget ignored him, walking around the car and grasping his
hand. “Come on.”
He followed after her, this time his steps less reluctant as
she wandered up a track to take him to a private spot all their own. Dirt and
stone crunched underfoot. Ten minutes turned into twenty. The sun had fast
dropped below the horizon, casting orange fingers across the sky. Bridget
peered upward, worrying they’d miss the sunset. Picking up the pace, she veered
off the track at a misshapen tree. Max stopped and she paused, waving him
forward. “This way.”
“I don’t think you’re allowed to walk off the path.”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Nothing will
happen. It’s just a little way. You won’t regret it.”
He trudged down, rocks sliding underfoot, and he grabbed on
to a tree for balance. She weaved through a couple of trees until they were
just out of sight of the track and spread the blanket beside a trunk. Settling
onto the wool, she sighed at the sunset spreading over the LA mountains. The
blanket shifted as Max sat beside her, an arm hooked around his knee.
“What are we doing here?”
She pointed to the pinkened sky and the clouds spreading
outward. “Enjoying the view.”
He turned his attention toward the terrain and for the first
time, the silence that greeted them was void of sadness. Everything just was.
After a while, she settled back onto her elbows, hooking one foot over her
ankle. Max lay back and faced her, his head propped on his hand.
“I didn’t take you for a hiker.”
She smiled, facing him. “I’m not. I came up here once to do
the tourist thing and just wandered. I like this. The privacy to enjoy the
moment, rather than moving aside for people running by.”
Max scanned their surroundings. “I suppose it is relaxing.”
Turning onto her side, she rested her head on the underside
of her arm, hand hooked behind her neck. “Sometimes we forget to take time for
ourselves and here I feel like I can think. I can breathe.”
Max scanned her face, a softness in his eyes she’d never
seen before making her heart swell. “I’ve been such an ass and you do this. I
feel like I should say sorry.”
“Don’t. You have nothing to be sorry about. There is a lot
on your mind and sometimes pushing people away seems like a way to protect
yourself.”
He fingered a lock of hair and hooked it behind her ear, the
move set tingles along her flesh. “So smart.”
“No, just experienced. When my grandmother died, it hit me
hard. She was artistic. Like me. I felt she was the only one who understood me
and when she passed, I felt alone.” She laughed as a memory emerged. “Nan used
to have this garden gnome that took pride and position in her garden. It was
pretty standard, but it was the first one she got from Pop. When he died, Nan
said that she spoke to it all the time. The gnome apparently had the same bushy
white brows and happy personality as Pop. It sounded weird to me, but when Nan
passed, a gnome was the first thing I grabbed. Talking to a gnome felt like I
was talking to her. You know?”
Max’s brows dropped. “Is that why you collect gnomes?”
Bridget thought about it. Her first gnome was a girl gnome
with a daisy and white curls, like Nan. But P. Diddy was her first purchase
toward a menagerie of gnomes. She didn’t talk to them like she used to, but she
felt comforted by them. “I suppose.”
“Shit. Now I feel like a real dick.”
“Don’t. Looking back on it all, it is kind of funny,” she
said with a small giggle.
Max smiled. “Yeah.”
Conversation ceased and they stared at each other. The small
upturn to Max’s mouth lightened Bridget’s heart. His lashes fluttered downward
a moment before he looked at her again. The smile slowly dissipated and was
replaced with an intensity she couldn’t define.
“What?”
“You know, you’re the only one who makes me smile this much.
You make me look forward to days in your company more than I do anyone else.”
Warmth shimmered inside and she reached for his hand that
rested between them. “Me too. It’s weird how it all turned out, but I’m kinda
glad I threw a gnome at you.”
He shifted closer. Her heart pounded as she waited for him
to make a move. The tips of his fingers trailed over the apples of her cheeks.
“Me too,” he whispered.
Air stalled in her lungs the moment his mouth dropped over
hers. He tasted of mint and passion as he delved inside and teased her with the
dance of his tongue. A whimper rose to her throat, a throb beginning in the
apex of her thighs. She wrapped an arm around him, her fingers pressed into the
curve of his back. Desired coiled inside. His tongue plundered her mouth,
taking her senses prisoner. Drowning in his touch, she answered in kind,
sealing their lips together. Desperate heat seared her flesh, wanting filling
her until her pussy throbbed. He shifted, pushing forward until she lay back.
His warm body settled over her in a comfortable weight.
His hand hooked behind her nape, his fingers spearing her
hair. Bridget blinked up at him, the sunlight peeking through the branches to
create a glow around his silhouette. His nostrils flared, lips parted as he
scanned her face. Aroused and in need, she parted her legs until his erection
pressed against the cusp of her sex. A shot of mercury rose within, combined
with intense awareness. Max grunted, fingers clenched in her hair. Bridget
hissed, lifting her hips to force him to move against her. Max dipped his head,
dark hair covering his features. Her knees hitched and a jolt of pure wanting
found her tender clit. Hooking her hand under the band of his jeans, she
undulated. Pleasure rose and waned in a beautiful cadence.
Max cursed and rolled them both until she straddled him.
Sitting up, he grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. He
flung it aside, his focus on her breasts. Lips pinched, his eyes narrowed on
the lacy bra. Unhooking the clasp, Bridget removed her bra, cool air touching
her hot flesh. Max trembled, a ragged breath cutting through the air. Warm
hands covered her breasts, and Bridget groaned as sweet delectation swamped
her. He rolled each nipple with deft fingers, bringing them to peaking
awareness. Nails scraped over the very tips, the sensual pain making her
whimper. Her canal quivered with longing, the succulent tremble inside teased
her and brought a deep yearning for him to fill her.
Max speared her with a look of hunger. As though she were
the sustenance that would keep him alive. “You’re gorgeous.”
Bridget held on to his shoulders, nails digging into cotton
as she rocked into him. Her lips hovered over his. “Shut up and kiss me.”
His mouth fell over hers. His kiss tasted of unadulterated
passion—sweet, wet and decadent. His tongue danced with hers and demanded her
subjugation. His fingers pressed over her ass, forcing her down onto his
erection, her gasp swallowed by his voracious kiss. He nibbled at her lips,
suckled her and stole all thought with one sweep of his tongue. Arms wrapped
around his neck, she moved with him, her body drawn tight as delicious warmth
filled her. Her pussy ached with every sweep over his hard cock. The denim kept
him contained when she longed to have him inside her.