Tidal (28 page)

Wills. Every picture I’ve ever seen of the

two of you makes me think she’s just

waiting for the perfect moment to bury a

hatchet into your throat.”

“Now you’re being dramatic,” I said. I

still didn’t know how to handle this whole

relationship thing where the guy I was

dating actually gave a shit about what I

was doing and where I was going. I sank

down on the opposite end of the bed and

placed my head between my knees. “Part

of me is glad she’s here and the other part

is—”

“My mum had this friend when I was a

kid who’d come to Australia every now

and then. Wanted me to call her Auntie

Amy.”

Cooper rarely spoke about his mom,

and I slowly lifted myself back up,

mussing the blankets as I turned around to

face him. I crossed my legs over each

other, leaned forward, and waited for him

to finish. “And?”

“Mum would disappear for a few days

leaving me with him.” He shuddered,

clenched the soft cotton comforter and

then said, “And when she came back she’d

be coming off a high.”

I rubbed my hand over my chest

hoping it would ease the burning sensation

in my heart, but it didn’t. “And you think

because Jessica’s come here for vacation

I’m going to fall off the wagon?” I asked

in a soft voice.

“There are still pics of you on TMZ

with her with your shirts raised and little

silver stars over your tits. So sorry that

I’m a little worried.”

I slid closer to him, so that my knees

nudged against his side. Touching his face,

I stared him straight in the eye. “Have

more faith in me.”

“Come here,” he whispered, his voice

deep, and he pulled me in to him. His

hands were gentle as they hooked under

the denim waistband of my shorts, but

mine were desperate, dragging up the front

of his Polo shirt and pulling at his collar.

One button hit the hardwood floor—

then the other—and I felt him smile under

our kiss and murmur something against my

lips about liking it rough. We were

partially naked in a matter of seconds,

with me on my back and his fingers

pushing inside of me.

“What you’ve done to me is—” he

started, but I tangled my hands around his

back, devouring his lips. I flicked my

tongue at each corner. “You’re tearing me

down,” he said, dragging away from me.

“I never said I was an angel,” I

whispered, closing my eyes as he fished

through the bedside drawer for a condom.

When I felt his body against mine

again, Cooper blew his minty breath

against my collarbone. “Bend over,

Wills,” he ordered, and when I did, he

pressed a kiss to the small of my back.

When we collapsed in a pile of sweat

awhile later, I whispered, “You were

right.” He swallowed hard and turned to

me, his eyebrows pulling together. I

cleared my throat. “Our first lesson you

said you intended to see me like that, fully

unclothed.”

He laughed and slipped his fingers

under the ribbed cotton of my tank top.

He’d pushed the neck of it down earlier

when we undressed, exposing my breasts.

Guess he’d gotten used to me refusing to

let him see me naked because we hadn’t

argued about me not wanting to take my

top completely off.

After a long time of lying still, he

murmured, “Why won’t you let me see all

of you?”

“You have seen all of me.”

He made a little noise in the back of

his throat. “With the lights off.”

My shoulders stiffened. “Because I’m

messed up,” I whispered at last. He

propped himself up to look down into my

eyes, and I brushed back a sweaty strand

of golden hair away from his forehead.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asked. “I’ve told you

a million times you’re perfect. We’ve

been going at this for what? More than a

month?”

“Don’t be fucking pushy,” I said.

He held up his hands in surrender.

“This is me, dropping it.”

“Good,” I said.

***

called me bright and early, claiming she

was still stuck on Los Angeles time. She

mentioned a bunch of Honolulu sights she

was dying to see and from the monotone

voice she used, I was pretty sure she’d

only found those five minutes before

calling me and was reading them from

Google as we spoke.

“I’m shooting in a little bit,” I said.

She gasped, excited. “Do you think

James would mind if I watched?” she

asked, and I hesitated. Dickson wasn’t the

biggest fan of guests on set but then again,

she’d worked with him before, on a movie

a couple years before I shot Sleepless.

But when she greeted him an hour and

a half later, smiling, he didn’t look too

happy to see her.

“You look great,” he told her, giving

her the once over he’d given me two

months ago in Junction. But now the

words didn’t carry to his eyes.

Jessica amused herself by flirting with

Justin as I shot an emotional scene with

my onscreen parents. Every now and then,

I felt her blue eyes watching me, taking me

in but when I met hers full on she grinned,

waving.

And I found myself rubbing my throat

more than once, imagining that hatchet that

Cooper had mentioned last night.

As soon as my scene was declared a

success by Dickson, he took me aside. “Is

everything okay, Willow?” he asked. I

was getting tired of hearing that

everywhere I turned but I swallowed hard

and nodded politely.

I placed my hand on his forearm and

gave him a meaningful look. “I’m great.”

“And Cooper is—”

My producer was veering towards the

awkward again, and I groaned aloud,

holding my hands out in front of me to stop

this conversation before it completely

took that turn. “I’m
great
.”

Dickson cast a sideways glance at

Jessica who was talking to one of the

supporting actresses—they apparently

knew each other from a movie they’d done

together two years ago. Jessica lifted her

head, flipping her strawberry blonde hair

over one shoulder and gave us a long,

examining stare.

“I’m half tempted to schedule a scene

for you tomorrow so that—” Dickson

started but then he caught himself. He

clenched his hands out in front of him,

bobbing his head slowly as he said, “Just

be careful, Willow.”

Suppressing a sound of exasperation, I

nodded and swore to him that I would. As

I walked over to join Jessica, and her

smile widened, I felt Dickson’s eyes

following me.

Miller drove us back to my rental

house, and Jessica quickly undid her

seatbelt, placing her chin on the back of

my seat. “We’re going out to night, yes?” I

jabbed my tongue into the inside of my

cheek and gripped the door handle.

“Miller can take us to dinner?” I asked

her at last, and she sighed.

“Whatever.”

Once we got to my rental, I told Miller

I’d text him as soon as we were ready. He

nodded, replying, “I’m going to hit the

gym for a little but I’ll be waiting.”

Then I took Jessica inside, and as she

threw herself down on the suede couch,

she gave me a smile that nearly showed

all of her straight white teeth. “This place

is cute.” I’d known Jessica long enough to

know that cute meant she utterly loathed

whatever she was talking about. I picked

up handfuls of clothing off the arm of the

recliner and gritted my teeth together.

She’ll be gone in two days
, I

reminded myself.

A moment later I heard the sound of

something hitting the table, and every

muscle in my body tightened. I turned

slowly, staring in horror at the baggie

sitting on top of the stack of magazines on

the edge of the table. “What’s that?” I

asked, feeling my heart skip a beat. Of

course I already knew exactly what
that

was. I could probably even guess how

much the bag of Roxies had cost her.

She lifted the corners of her lips.

“Happy belated birthday, Willow. I

celebrated without you, but hey, it’s never

too late to—”

I jabbed my finger at the bag and

shook my head. “Get rid of them,” I

growled. Her smile faded and her dark

blue eyes narrowed into tight slits.

“Don’t be stupid.”

I redirected my finger to the door, and

said in a tight voice, “Jess, I’m not above

telling you to get the fuck out. Throw them

away, flush them, I don’t give a shit—just

don’t give them to me.”

She gave me a long, hard look and

then swooped up the bag of Roxies,

dumping it back into her Vuitton bag.

Sitting upright, she flexed her hands on

either side of her body. “Alright,

Willow.” She slid her tongue from side to

side between her teeth. “What now then?”

“Dinner,” I reminded her.

“Fun,” she said, emphasizing the

word.

Her movements were jerky when I

excused myself to take a shower and I

stood under the hot water, gripping the

shower wall for support. I hated myself

for reacting to what Jessica had brought—

for wanting it for a split second—just

about as much as I hated her for bringing it

to me in the first place.

After my shower, I sat on the edge of

my bed, listening to the sound of the Andy

Samberg movie Cooper and I had watched

the week before drift from the living room

and Jessica’s laughter.

“I can do this,” I whispered. I picked

my phone up from the nightstand to check

the time to find a text message from

Cooper.

6:18 p.m
.: Still going out for dinner
with Pastie tonight?

I sighed, lifting up off the bed to go in

search of clothes as I messaged him back.

Yes. Do you want me to have Miller drop

me off afterward?

He texted me back as I sifted through

underwear.

6:29 p.m
.: You can have him drop

you off now if you’d like. Or I can just

come get you. Or . . .

I bit my bottom lip, feeling the stress

slowly lift off my shoulders.
You do know

that I hate ellipses because of the

implication behind them, right?

I shimmied on my panties and bra and

set about finding something to wear. I

sprung for a pair of skinny jeans and a

blue and red flannel top with a white tank

top beneath. My phone rang as I buttoned

my jeans. Sliding my feet into a pair of

sneakers, I flopped over to the bed to

answer Cooper’s call.

Except it wasn’t Cooper, it was my

parents. I gripped the phone tightly,

starring at the neon writing rotating around

the screen as the phone continued to play

the ringtone I’d assigned to them. They

hadn’t called me since the fallout with

Mom a week after my birthday and I

honestly wasn’t ready to talk. When the

phone stopped ringing, I threw it down on

the bed and finished getting dressed. I

combed my long, dark hair into a high

ponytail and rubbed on lip gloss before

sliding my phone and credit card into my

back pocket.

Jessica wrinkled the tip of her nose

when she saw me. “You look—” She

paused, cocking her head to one side and

raking her gaze up my body, from head to

toe. I tensed up under her scrutiny as I

waited for her to say something. Then she

gave me a mock disgusted glare. “Ugh, I

need to start surfing. You look hot.”

Relaxing, I grinned at her. “It’s an ass-

kicker.”

She licked her lips nonchalantly.

“Speaking of ass-kickers—am I going to

get to meet Surfer Boy while I’m here?”

I focused my attention on fishing my

phone out of my back pocket as I lied,

“He’s got a competition he’s training for

so I’m not even getting to see him this

weekend.”

Jessica groaned. “Well that sucks.”

I closed my grip around my phone,

fighting the urge to hurl it across the room

at her. “Very much,” I said sweetly.

I sent Miller a text message telling him

that we were ready whenever he got back

from his workout. Right after I hit send,

my phone rang yet again. My mother. I

groaned, but shot Jessica a look. “Be right

back. My mom won’t stop until I take

this.”

Slipping out the front door, I paced the

lanai as I answered. “Hey, sorry I missed

your call before, I—”

“Willow, I’ve got bad news.”

My heart flew into my throat. “Dad?” I

gasped.

She made a strangled noise, and I

leaned against one of the wooden beams

of the house. What if something had