Before Forever (Sharing Space #6) (4 page)

BOOK: Before Forever (Sharing Space #6)
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Chapter Seven
Reunited
Chloe

 

The moment was shocking, awkward and, for some reason, extremely hilarious. I thought I was seeing things: Wishful thinking. Wine delusions. Anything but the fact that Patrick was truly home and standing in our living room.

 

“I didn’t know you were—”

 

“Home? Yes, I’m home. Been here for a few days at my parents’. I go back tomorrow.”

 

I nodded in the absence of having anything to say. We hadn’t taken our eyes off of each other. Michael cleared his throat. I’d forgotten he was even there.

 

“Oh, Michael. This is Patrick, my roommate. He’s in been in Los Angeles filming a movie. He’s an actor.” I was babbling and knew it.

 

Michael extended a hand for Patrick to shake. For a brief moment I thought he was going to ignore him, but he finally reached out and shook Michael’s hands, his eyes on mine the entire time. Then he looked at Michael.

 

“And you are?”

 

“Michael’s a friend of the family,” I said much too quickly. “We’re working together to help Crystal make changes to the restaurant. She runs it now.”

 

“Did… is everything okay with Uncle Troy?” Patrick pulled his gaze away from Michael, worry on his face.

 

“Yes. He’s fine. He’s retired now. If something had happened I would have called you.” I was sure no one missed the hurt in my voice.

 

“Would you?” Our eyes locked once again.

 

“Michael, thanks for seeing me home. I feel much better now.” It was true. I had sobered right the hell up the moment I saw Patrick. It was better than any nap or cup of coffee could have done. “Patrick and I have some things to discuss.”

 

Michael searched my face. “Is everything okay?”

 

I wasn’t looking at Patrick, but I heard him blow out a breath. “Yes, it’s fine. I’ll talk to you soon.”

 

For one horrifying second I thought Michael was going to lean in and kiss me. Thankfully he took the squeeze on the arm I gave him and kept it moving. Once he was gone I took a moment before turning to face Patrick.

 

“Are you sick?”

 

“What?”

 

“You said you were feeling better.”

 

“Oh, I had too much to drink before going out. I haven’t eaten.” I glanced at the coffee table where the near empty wine bottle sat, mocking me.

 

“Do you want to go grab something?”

 

“No. I’ll be okay.”

 

My stomach chose that exact moment to make a liar out of me. Patrick smiled that cocky half smile that I loved so much and said, “I’ll make you something.” I watched him walk to the kitchen. He seemed leaner, more fit, and slightly tanned. He looked amazing.

 

“When was the last time you went grocery shopping?” He called from the kitchen.

 

“I’ve been busy,” I called out in response.

 

“With Michael?”

 

I decided to ignore that and went to the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face and dried it with a towel. I checked my breath. It smelled like a liquor store, so I brushed my teeth. Twice. I thought about changing out of my dress, but that would have been pushing it. Everything about the situation reminded me of when we first kissed and things were weird—except now, so much more than a kiss had passed between us.

 

By the time I summoned the courage to enter the kitchen, Patrick had prepared a grilled cheese sandwich and a simple salad of lettuce and tomato. He shrugged. “This was the best I could do with what we have.”

 

He’d said
we.
Like the things in the apartment still belonged to us both. “Thanks,” I said and sat down to eat. Despite the fact that brushing my teeth gave the food an odd taste, I managed to eat a few bites of the sandwich and forkfuls of the salad. I knew we had a lot to talk about and I wanted to make sure I was up for it. I took a bottle of water from the fridge and took a sip before diving in.

 

“So, why did you come here?”

 

He looked offended. “Because I live here.”

 

“You do, but I meant… you’ve been in New York for a few days and you leave tomorrow. Why come here now?”

 

“My mother told me what she did, coming here and telling you to break up with me. I’m sorry she did that to you.”

 

I hadn’t expected his mother to ever admit what she’d done. It took me a few seconds to recover from the news. “It’s not your place to apologize. And honestly, she doesn’t owe me an apology either. She’d just lost her daughter. She was doing what she thought was best.” My mother’s words had an effect after all. I still didn’t like what she’d done, but I now understood why Theresa Murphy had done it. “Sometimes doing the wrong thing feels like it’s for the best… at the time.”

 

“Does that go for you breaking us up as well?” There was anger in his voice. I could feel it more than hear it.

 

I stood up and put my plate on the counter. “It wasn’t just me who broke us up. Do you really still think it was okay to lie about us? You can’t see where I might have a problem with that?”

 

He approached me at the counter and stood way too close. I was once again taken back to our first kiss and was just as aroused and nervous as I was then. The way he stared at my lips as he spoke told me he felt it, too.

 

“Chloe, I am sorry about that. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life. And I don’t blame you for being upset. Not one bit. But make no mistake:
You
broke us up. And while I was gone, you wouldn’t take my calls or return my texts. You made it impossible for us to work through it. How was that for the best?”

 

“It felt like the right thing to do. Things had moved too fast. Obviously you felt it too, or else you wouldn’t have been so willing to just move on so quickly.” I walked out of the kitchen and headed for the living room. Maybe I wasn’t up for this after all. It was easy to stand by my decision and hurt feelings, even when I doubted them, when I didn’t have to look into those hazel eyes.

 

“You’re talking about Kelly,” Patrick said, entering the living room behind me.

 

“Thanks for not pretending like you didn’t know what I was talking about.” I turned to face him and waited for an explanation.

 

“You know what? I’m not doing this with you all night.” He was across the room in three quick strides. He reached out to touch me, but seemed to think better of it. Instead he kept his hands at his side, flexing his hands open and closed. “I told you before, there is
nothing
between me and Kelly. There hasn’t been for a very long time. I have not even looked at another woman since I met you. You think I haven’t had opportunities? You don’t know what it’s like out there, on set. I could have been with several someone elses and you’d have never known, even after you dumped me. But all I’ve been able to think about is you. Do you know how I felt when you walked in here with that guy?”

 

The lump in my throat kept me from doing anything more than shaking my head.

 

“I was torn between ripping his head off and crying.” He gave a short, bitter laugh. “I’m a grown man and I felt like crying seeing you with someone else. The look on his face... The thought of him touching you—”

 

I found my voice. “It’s not like that.”

 

“Then how is it?” His eyes traveled from my eyes to my mouth, and even lower. “Is it like this?” He put his hands on my hips and pulled me close. I felt his erection and it made me feel sexy and powerful.

 

“No,” I whispered.

 

“How about this?” Both hands moved to caress my back. He dipped his face into the curve of my neck. His breath against my skin made me quiver. Patrick left the softest kiss there before placing several more along my jaw, stopping at my mouth. “Well, is it?”

 

“No.” I said again.

 

“Good.” And then he kissed me hungrily. My lips parted and I moaned when his tongue entered my mouth. He tasted sweet. He tasted as I remembered. When we finally stopped to breathe, our eyes met. What I saw in his made my hands shake.

 

“Let me make love to you, Chloe.” His look made me feel both loved and desired.

 

I took his hand and led him to my bedroom. He pressed against me from behind as we walked, his hands roaming over the front of my body. Once in my room, I kicked off my sandals and pushed him onto my bed. He was on his back, raised up on his elbows, never taking his eyes off of me. That was just how I wanted it.

 

I reached down slowly, maintaining eye contact, and gripped the hem of my dress. I took my time pulling it up, revealing my thighs, my stomach, and finally my breasts. I gave a silent thank you to the universe that I’d worn a matching pale blue bra and panty set. I lifted the dress over my head and tossed it aside.

 

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” His voice was thick with desire and my legs went weak in anticipation. I watched as his gaze followed my hands as they worked the front-clasp of the bra. I slowly pulled it away, allowing him a brief look at my breasts before I cupped them with both hands. “Chloe, come here.”

 

I stepped out of my panties before granting his wish and slowly making my way to the bed. I leaned forward and undid the button of his jeans. He lifted his hips and helped me slide them and his underwear off. He was still at attention, ready for me. I straddled him and watched as he removed his shirt. His chest, like the rest of him, was newly tanned, but other than that it was still chiseled and perfect. I ran my hands down it, letting my fingers trail lightly along his abs.

 

I raised my body and positioned myself to receive him. As he slid into me, our eyes locked. He took it slow at first and I could feel myself opening to receive him inch by inch. Finding our rhythm again was easy.

 

“Damn. You’re so warm,” he said, and then kissed his way to my breasts.

 

I put my hands on the bed on either side of us and arched my back. He took control of my hips with his hands and guided me to meet every thrust. “Patrick, don’t stop.”

 

When I felt the throb of his release, I wrapped myself around him, holding him tight with every part of me. Later we lay together, legs entwined, his arms holding me close. I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to stay quiet in his arms and forget the last four months had happened. That moment, too, wasn’t meant to last.

 

“This doesn’t change anything, does it?” Patrick asked as he stroked my hair.

 

I was grateful that he couldn’t see my face and couldn’t see the pain and confusion I felt. I answered as honestly as I could.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

***  

 

The next morning I woke alone. Patrick was gone. On the pillow next to me were his signed lease and a note.

 

Don’t give up on us. – P.

 

Chapter Eight
Barbie Busted
Patrick

 

We wrapped shooting on
Backstage Pass
as scheduled, but I still had another week in Los Angeles for promotional events. As I ran on the treadmill in the hotel’s gym I thought about the work I had ahead when the week was over: I had to go home and start repairing the damaged and confusing mess that had become my relationship with Chloe. Just as she’d done after the first time we kissed, she retreated. Our phone conversations over the past month showed progress—at least she was back to taking my calls—but we still had issues to figure out. One night of amazing sex wouldn’t solve all of our problems.

 

I’d been an ass and I needed to make it up to her. Achieving all I’ve wanted as an actor wouldn’t mean a damn thing if I lost Chloe in the process. I knew that now. There would never be a role written that would be worth that. I’d spend the rest of my life proving it to her if she’d let me.

 

I’d forgiven my mother; how could I not? But her meddling would be addressed when I got back to New York. My relationship with Chloe would be in for a bumpy ride if there wasn’t peace between the two of them, and I didn’t want to be put in a position to choose. I’d already chosen incorrectly once, and I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

 

I pushed up the speed on the machine as I thought about the one obstacle that left me uncertain: that Michael guy. Part of my No Pressure approach was not putting any kind of demands on Chloe, and that included not asking her to stop seeing him. As much as I wanted to, I knew moves like that didn’t fly with Chloe, and it’s not the way I wanted us to be anyway. I didn’t want to be
that
guy, controlling her life and her friends. That didn’t make thinking about him spending time with her any easier, though. I trusted her when she said their relationship wasn’t a romantic one, but I’d seen the way he looked at her and I didn’t trust him one bit.

 

I finished my run and went back to my suite for a shower. We were having a wrap party across town in a club rented out for the occasion. I would have preferred to stay in, but the entire cast and crew would be there, as well as press and network executives. All of our hard work should be celebrated. The plan was to make an appearance, take a few pictures, and then come back to my room and wonder why it wasn’t a week later already.

 

An hour later I was showered and dressed in a grey suit, one of several delivered to my room by a stylist’s assistant. I still wasn’t used to that kind of pampering. Just as I was about to head out, there was a knock at the door. I opened it and was greeted by Kelly wearing a sapphire green dress with a plunging neckline and no back to speak of.

 

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

 

She didn’t wait to be asked, just breezed right by me like I’d invited her in. “I thought we could go together.” She looked around the suite, which I’m sure wasn’t nearly as nice as the one she’d been given—and mine was pretty amazing. She slid into one of the lounge chairs and crossed her legs seductively. “Or we could just stay in.”

 

I closed the door and leaned against it. “That’s not going to happen, Kelly.”

 

She pouted and re-crossed her legs.  “And why not? Afraid you’ll mess up my hair? I’m willing to risk it.”

 

I squinted at her and walked closer. “Have you been drinking?”

 

“Uh, yeah. We’re celebrating. Now, come on. Come over and let’s do it for old times’ sake. I’ll let you do it any way you like.”

 

This time she uncrossed her legs and spread them slightly, then leaned forward, giving me a generous view of her breasts. I sighed and took a seat in the chair next to her. “Kelly, we probably should have had this conversation a long time ago.”

 

“Oh, boy. Am I in trouble? Please say yes. You can spank me if I’ve been bad.”

 

I closed my eyes for a few seconds and wondered how much of what I had to say would make it past the alcohol. It didn’t matter. I had to try. Working things out with Chloe meant setting a few people straight. Might as well start with Kelly.

 

“Kelly, you’ve been a good friend to me. I appreciate you helping me get the role on
Shining Moments
, which helped me get this one. I will always be grateful to you for that.”

 

“How grateful?” she asked and placed a hand on my thigh, then moved it towards my crotch. I covered her hand with mine and placed it on the arm of my chair. I left my hand covering hers, partly because I wanted to remain cordial while I said what I wanted, but mainly to keep her from grabbing me.

 

“What happened between us, Kelly—it can’t happen again. It won’t. I’m in love with someone.”

 

That spark of meanness I’d seen before flashed in her eyes. She snatched her hand away and waved it dismissively. “What? You’re in love with your roommate?” She said it the way you’d ask a child if they missed their mommy.

 

“Yes, I’m in love with Chloe. I have been for awhile now.”

 

“So, where is she?” She threw up her hands and looked around the room. “You’ve been here for months. She hasn’t come to see you.”

 

“We took some time apart, but that ends when I go home.”

 

She rose and slipped onto my lap. “Oh. Well, we’ve got all week. If that’s what you’re worried about, I can be discreet. She won’t ever hear it from me.”

 

I pushed her off as gently as I could and stood to face her. “Didn’t you hear me? I’m not going to have sex with you, and not because I don’t want my girlfriend to find out. I’m in love with her. I don’t want to sleep with you or anyone else.”

 

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

 

“Very.”

 

“Are you out of your mind, Patrick?”

 

“Don’t do this, Kelly.” She’d helped me and I wanted this to be as amicable as possible. That would be very hard if she went into raving bitch mode.

 

“Oh, this goes beyond me wanting to get laid. You think that’s why I’m upset? Don’t flatter yourself.” She sneered and took a step closer. “I’m just astounded that you’re willing to sabotage your career because you caught a case of jungle fever.”

 

“You need to stop talking. Now.”

 

“No, Patrick. It’s about time someone clued you in to the way things work in this business.” She pointed a finger at me, her face contorted in anger. “People like us can write our own tickets. Look at us, for fuck’s sake! We’re practically Ken and Barbie. That’s what the public wants out of its stars, honey. They want two extremely attractive and rich people to hook up so they can live through us. They want paparazzi pics of us leaving Trader Joe’s or headed to the gym while holding Starbucks cups. They want to feel like we’re just like them, even though they know we’re not. People want to see people like us date, fall in love, make movies together, get married, and pop out gorgeous little kids. They want to combine our names to come up with something stupid like Brangelina. You want a shot of color in your life? We’ll get married and adopt a little African kid. Worked for Angelina and Madonna.” She shrugged like everything she’d just said wasn’t completely disgusting.

 

“What the hell happened to you?”

 

“Oh, give me a break. How do you think I’ve gotten so far? This business is equal parts who you know, what you look like, and who you fuck. You want to work in this business, and that’s fine. But I’m telling you how you can be a star in this business. Why do you think I had my people leak that story about us?”

 

I ran my hand over my face and shook my head. “Don’t ever help me like that again. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I won’t ever reach the level of stardom and fame that you have. If it means turning into… this… then I’m fine without it.”

 

“Fuck you, Patrick. Good luck working on soap operas and doing dog food commercials. Maybe you’ll go on
Dancing with the Stars.
If you’re lucky.”

 

She stomped to the door and gave me one last contemptuous look before leaving, slamming the door behind her.

 

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