I’m sorry for being an idiot. Run tomorrow?

  I leave the flowers on her doorstep and go home, finally falling asleep.

  I get to the beach early the next morning, refreshed after sleeping for ten hours, and wait. And wait. And wait.

  5

  Cort

  I find the flowers but don’t bother to let Miles know…and I don’t meet him for a run either. Once I officially filed charges yesterday, I holed up in my house and haven’t budged. I’ve stayed glued to the news for the past twenty-four hours, give or take a few times when I dozed off into Alex’s neck.

  Bev has called so many times, I’ve lost track. I haven’t answered. And I’ve started getting other calls too, which makes me wonder if she gave out my cell number when I started avoiding her.

  I need a good long sleep, but I’m too anxious. I need to eat something, but nothing sounds appetizing. I need company, but I don’t know who to call.

  My parents haven’t been a part of my life for a long time. They didn’t agree with my decision to become an actress in the first place and I’m sure they are thinking I got what I asked for, since to them I was basically whoring myself out already to get anywhere in this business.

  Turns out they were right, in a way. Only I never asked for it. Every time was abusive and against my will. What I did wrong was not getting out sooner. But being an actress has been my dream my entire life. How do I let go of my dream when it all starts to fall into place, just because of a few assholes in Hollywood? The biggest being Clive.

  The flowers catch my eye and I reconsider avoiding Miles. But no. If he doesn’t know already, he will soon, and I can’t stand to see judgment in his eyes.

  Another text comes through. Speak of the devil.

  I’m standing outside your door with kung pao chicken and egg rolls. Mochi balls for dessert. Interested?

  My stomach growls its answer and I trudge to the door, opening it slowly. He stands out there looking so handsome in his white button-down shirt. It’s then that I remember I only showered and then left my hair in a knot on top of my head, still wet. No makeup. No bra. A tank dress that I wear around the house. Still, I open the door wider and he walks in, looking relieved.

  He tweaks my topknot. “Cute.” He grins. He holds up the bags. “Where do you want it?”

  “In my belly,” I say, smiling for the first time today. I wave my hand around. “Paperwork is piled up on the card table…and I still don’t have a couch…but we can sit on the deck if it’s not too hot.”

  He nods and bends down to love on Alex. “I can’t believe how much better he looks.”

  “He’s the best dog. Hasn’t made a peep. Oh, maybe that’s not a great thing. I could use a watchdog.”

  “He might need to find his bark again.”

  I shake my head. “That’s profound.”

  He smirks like he thinks I’m joking, but I’m not.

  It’s not until we’re sitting outside, facing the water, that Miles clears his throat and I know what’s coming. Or at least I think I do.

  “I shouldn’t have avoided you on the beach. That was an asshole thing to do.”

  “Why did you?” I turn to face him, the curiosity too much.

  “I haven’t had the best success with relationships. And this between you and me, I don’t know—it felt like it could be something…more…than anything I’ve had in the past few years. And then there’s also the fact that I could be imagining it all because, hello, you’re Cortlyn freaking Whitaker and I am Nice freaking Guy Miles.” He groans and rubs his hands down his face. “That is way more than I wanted to say.”

  I’ve been holding my chopsticks paused in front of my mouth since he started talking. I go to take a bite now and it’s all fallen off. I set the sticks down.

  “You say that like I’m unreachable though…and like being nice is a terrible thing.” He’s looking out at the water and I reach out and touch his cheek. “Miles…” He turns and looks at me. “Besides being incredibly hot, your kindness is what I find most attractive about you.”

  He swallows hard and lowers his head, looking down at his egg roll. “Thank you.”

  “I’m over here.”

  He grins and turns to face me. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now that that’s been said, I’m a mess and I wouldn’t be surprised if you did whatever you could to avoid me.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

  And the way his eyes look pained and so…caring—God, he really is a good person—I know that he knows.

  “Clive has held this over my head for years like it was my fault he raped me.”

  He flinches but doesn’t look away. His kind eyes reassure me more than any words he could say.

  “I’ve been gathering proof. I have pictures, recorded phone conversations, and video of private industry “meetings”…all while trying to maintain a professional work ethic. It has been—” I pause and try to hold the tears in, “—daunting. It’s been hell,” my voice breaks. “It’s taken nearly every ounce of joy that acting gives me away; even the awards I’ve received are overshadowed by Clive Carver.” I put my face in my hands and cry. “I had to make sure I had enough to put him away. He’s the most powerful man in the business. Even now, I’m not sure this will stick.”

  Miles puts his hand on my shoulder and I know with everything in me that if he hadn’t just heard what had happened to me, I’d be in his arms right now. That makes me cry harder. I lift my head up and when he sees my face, he takes our plates and sets them to the side. I move next to him and lay my head on his shoulder. He takes my hand and rubs his thumb across my knuckles in soothing circles.

  “I hope he rots in hell.” His voice is low and sends a chill through me.

  “Damn, Miles, you can sound scary when you want to.”

  “Always the jokester,” he teases.

  “Just surviving,” I whisper. But the tears have stopped and I know that I have him to thank for it.

  After we finish eating, we go inside. He acts like he’s going to leave, but I don’t want him to. Instead, he leans against the kitchen counter and folds his arms. “Wanna watch a movie or anything?”

  He looks so hot standing there, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, his tan skin and muscles bulging even in dress clothes. I don’t think, I just walk up to him and stand between his legs. His arms are forced open and I step into them, meeting him chest to chest.

  “Will you help me forget?” I ask.

  His eyes widen and he looks shocked for a moment, but then his arms wind around me and he leans his forehead against mine.

  “Are you sure?” he whispers.

  “I have been dying for you to kiss me since the day we met. I’m positive.”

  He grips the side of my face with both hands and his lips meet mine tentatively at first, but when I step to my tiptoes and wrap my arms around him, all inhibition is gone. My mouth opens to his and he delves inside, claiming all the horrible memories. I start to feel weak in the knees and he picks me up, wrapping my legs around him.

  “Tell me when to stop and I will,” he says against my lips.

  I nibble his bottom lip and then kiss him hard. I come up for air only to say, “I never want you to stop.”

  He remembers the layout of the house well, proving it by heading straight to the master bedroom, no questions asked. Alex follows us upstairs and Miles kicks the door the rest of the way open, his lips never leaving mine.

  He drops me on the bed and I bounce, smiling at the way his eyes are swallowing me whole.

  “I think your clothes need to go,” he says, grinning. He lowers my tank top and sees my bare nipple peeking back at him. “Hell yes, these need to be free.” He pulls my tank top off and works on my shorts. I shimmy them down when he unzips my zipper and he runs his fingers along the top of my red lacy underwear. “I hate these.”

  I snort and we both laugh, maybe a little maniacally. I might be a little bit nervous and he must be too. But it feels so good.

  “Get them out of your sight then, if you hate them so much.”

  He sticks his lips out and narrows his eyes. “Yeah, they’ve gotta go.” He drags them down my legs and then stands back up and stares at me. “You are going to kill me. Slowly. Painfully. Brutally. And it will be so fucking worth it.”

  “God, you’re hot.” I shift up on the bed and lean up on my elbows. “I hate your whole outfit.”

  He grins and starts unbuttoning his shirt. My mouth falls open when he unzips his pants and strips down to nothing.

  “Hello,” I whisper. He is perfection. Chiseled, hard perfection.

  Alex leans his head on the bed and I give him a pat. “You better cover your eyes. It’s about to get dirty.” He looks at me like he knows what’s about to happen—I swear he does—and goes to lie down in the corner.

  Miles moves my hair off of my breast and then traces oh so softly across my nipple, causing it to stand at attention. He leans down and takes it in his mouth and then blows on it. I shiver.

  And then, needing so badly to have control of the situation, despite how good he’s making me feel, I pull his head to mine and kiss him hard. I roll on top of him and rub against him, my eyes squeezed shut.

  “Cort,” he says. “Cort, open your eyes.”

  I open them and he puts his hand on my face. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I’m not going anywhere.”

  My shoulders relax and I sigh. “I do want this. I just…I still get flashbacks and I need them to go away. When you leaned over me, I had a moment…even though I want you so much.”

  His thumb rubs over my lips and I lean into his hand. “How about we either talk tonight…naked…because seriously, you look awful in clothes.” My lips curve up and I feel him get even harder underneath me.

  I stare at him for a long moment and he brushes my hair back. I put my forehead on his and slide off of him.

  “I’m sorry I’m a downer.”

  He turns to face me and smiles. “Impossible.”

  “Are you always so encouraging…except when it comes to my wardrobe?”

  “Well, you do need better taste in clothes, like not wearing any at all. You have to admit this is much better.” His fingers brush against my neck, staying far from all the places I want him to be.

  I laugh and lean over, laying my head on his chest. It feels like the safest place in the world. “I’m glad you’re here,” I whisper.

  “Me too.”

  6

  Cort

  We talk for hours. We’ve covered all the places we’ve lived, all the schools we’ve gone to, the challenges of middle school, and the dysfunction in both of our families. I know he’s close to his mother and unhappy that she’s far away, while still not minding the space. He knows my relationship with my parents is nonexistent right now. I find out his favorite sandwich is a Reuben and he’ll eat a brat even when he’s not hungry.

  “And mint chocolate chip ice cream, my weakness.”

  He’s behind me now, spooning me, and even though every part of my body is aware of his and dying for more, I’m enjoying our conversation just as much.

  “I’m a salted caramel kind of girl, but I do like mint chip too. My absolute favorite though? Thrifty’s chocolate malted crunch…do you know how hard it is to be on location and craving that? I haven’t found it anywhere but California.” I shake my head.

  “Hmm, I’ve never had it.”

  “What?” I turn my head and his lips are so close, I go breathless for a second. “We have to remedy that soon.”

  He looks at my mouth and I feel him getting hard again. “Just ignore that. You are the most excitement he’s ever experienced. It’ll just take a little time.”

  I close the distance between us and kiss him, turning over and sighing into his mouth. “I don’t want to stop.”

  “You do whatever feels good to you in the moment. Use me.” He grins the sexiest smile and I fall harder for him.

  I get on top of him and kiss him again, slowly this time. With everything in me, all the sweet and the passion he makes me feel rolled into one raging lust. He follows my lead, and it drives me crazy in the best way. I put one of his hands on my breast and the other between my legs and his eyes gleam as he touches me.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispers.

  I moan and lift up, taking him in my hands and guiding him inside. He bites his bottom lip and groans as I sit on him, but still, he doesn’t move. In that moment, I realize I might be in too deep with him. I’m not sure this can just be a benefits thing between friends. It feels too right. Too perfect. He must see the panic on my face because he sits up and pushes my hair out of my eyes.

  “Cort? Where did you go?”

  “You feel too…a little too good.”

  “You sure you’re okay?” He closes his eyes when I pulse around him. “God, Cort. You feel a little too good to me too. Understatement…”

  I start moving then, unable to take it when his fingers move faster over me, and my head falls back when I least expect it, crying out.

  “Take it all,” he says.

  And I do, until we’re both sweating and panting and grinning like we’ve just found our soul mate. Because I think that’s what just happened tonight.

  “I didn’t hate a single minute of being in this bed with you,” he says as he’s getting out of it the next morning.

  “I didn’t either.” I grin as he leans down for one more kiss.

  “I also slept better than I ever have. Slept right through a run.”

  “Me too,” I add. “Best sleep ever.”

  “Do you think you’ll want to see me later?” His voice is suddenly shy and he looks away. He puts on his pants and sits on the end of the bed as he starts buttoning his shirt.

  “I want to see you right now and in an hour from now, and after that too,” I admit.

  He grins. “Okay then. Will you settle for tonight? I have to work, but I can bring dinner over after.”

  “That sounds great. I think I’ll have a new couch and dining room table by then!”

  He does jazz hands and I laugh, realizing I’m putting out a lot of energy for this early in the morning.

  He leans down and gives me one more kiss. “Thank you,” he says.

  “For what?”

  His eyes assess my whole face, as if he’s memorizing me, and he puts his forehead on mine. “For letting me in.”

  When he leaves, I throw my hands over my head and stretch as far as my arms and legs can go. I can’t stop smiling. I replay the night before and am still smiling when I hit the shower. Shocking considering the upheaval my life is in. He’s good. He’s really good.

  I make the mistake of turning on the TV and lose all track of time. I see my face everywhere and realize I need some kind of disguise before I let the delivery guys in with the couch. I go through boxes until I find a short black wig and look for an old pair of sunglasses, but I can’t find them. The wig will have to do. I set it aside for later and do a little cleaning. The TV plays in the background and I’ve mostly ignored it until I see Clive’s face pop up on the screen as I’m taking out the trash. I stop and feel queasy in the pit of my stomach.

  “After Cortlyn Whitaker’s accusations against Clive Carver, two other actresses have come forward with similar allegations against the director. We’ll have more on that at five.”

  I have to lean against the kitchen counter, my legs feel weighted down. Two others? I’d hoped for both things—that no one else had suffered like I did with Clive, and also that someone else could back me up on this. There are at least three other people, Bev included, that could back me up, but they proved long ago that I couldn’t count on them.

  My phone starts ringing and it’s David, my lawyer.

  “I just saw,” I tell him, skipping over any formalities.

  “This is exactly what we needed.” He can’t contain his excitement.

  He’s been great to me. A lawyer I met when I first started this business and have stuck with ever since…I don’t know what I would have done without him. My mistake was not telling him as soon as it started with Clive. He would’ve believed me then and I didn’t trust anyone to know the difference.

  “Do you have any idea which actresses?” he asks.

  “I could make a few guesses, but they’d be just that…none of the actresses he’s worked with have ever said anything to me. I hope they won’t stay anonymous, but I won’t get too hopeful.”

  “I think we can get hopeful, Cort. I think he’s going down.”

  I get a flutter in my chest when he says that. I can’t believe any of this is happening, really…I’m still in shock that I had the nerve to spill the truth. This is too good to be true.

  “If you find out who the women are, let me know right away, please. Would it be possible for me to talk to them?” I ask.

  “We’ll see how it all pans out and how far they’re willing to go with bringing him down. And yes, I’ll absolutely let you know. If you hear first, I don’t care what time it is—call me.”

  “Okay, thank you, David.”

  I’m shaking when I hang up the phone. I slide down the wall of the living room and put my head on my knees, crying for myself and all the other women Clive has hurt.

  The doorbell rings and Alex runs to the door, barking. I look around for the wig and it’s not where I put it. In a panic, I run around, looking everywhere. There aren’t many places it could hide, given the house is mostly empty. The doorbell rings again…and again…and I see sunglasses hanging on my purse. I grab them and answer the door.

  “Delivery for Laura Ellis?” The guy holds out a clipboard and I nod, signing the paper. He points behind him. “Where’s the best place to bring this in?”

 

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