Hooked (2 page)

Everything is a flurry for the next few days, and it feels so busy and chaotic that I don’t have time to breathe or think. Before it all has a chance to catch up to me, I find myself standing with Ashley in line to check my bags at the airport.

I look around at all the other people waiting to leave and a strange mix of anxiety and excitement washes over me. When my eye catches Ashley, a stab of sadness hits me too.

She’s doing her best to be happy and supportive, but I can see the emotion behind her smile. I stayed at her house last night because I had to officially vacate my townhouse and turn over the keys. We tried to stay awake and watch a movie together, but I fell asleep pretty early, the exhaustion of the week overtaking me. 

The only bright spot in all the heaviness of leaving is that in only three short hours I will touch down at LAX and see Brandon again. It’s almost strange how much I’ve missed him. I mean, we went three years without seeing each other, but now I go half-crazy missing him in a week and a half. It’s like all the loneliness and heartache from those years apart has compounded, and we can’t stand to be separated now.

I follow Ashley as the line inches forward. I hate that it’s silent between us, yet I can’t think of anything to say.

Nothing I can say will make this any easier.

We finally get to the front counter. I hoist my suitcase onto the scale before laying down my ticket confirmation and ID for the representative. Ashley rolls my other bag forward and sets it up on the scale after the first is tagged and taken behind the counter. It takes a few minutes for them to get everything checked in and to give me my boarding pass. Ashley and I turn away and start walking towards the TSA security line.

“Time to get one last coffee?” Ashley asks, hopeful.

I look at the line for security and glance at my watch. It will probably be cutting it close, but I nod my head, unable to say no. “I think we can manage that!"

Ashley smiles and links her arm through mine and we walk
Wizard of Oz
-style over to the nearby coffee shop. We order and then plop down onto two bar stools.

Ashley stares off into space for a long moment as she takes a drink. “Can you believe this is really happening?” she asks, bringing her gaze back to me.

“No, not really,” I answer, shaking my head. “I can’t believe that Brandon and I are together again, after all this time. I can’t believe I’m leaving Washington.”

“I can’t believe Brandon actually became a movie star!” Ashley says with a laugh.

I push her arm playfully. “Hey! He’s talented!”

“I know, I know. It just seems crazy. I mean we’ve known him since grade school. I don’t think anyone thinks their classmates will grow up to be famous.”

I nod, still smiling. “I know what you mean. The whole thing is crazy.” My smile dissolves slightly at this.

Ashley grabs my hand. “Ya know what they say?”

“Hmm?” I look at her.

“Crazy enough it just might work.”

I smile and squeeze her hand. “Thanks Ash. What am I going to do without you?”

“Come visit a lot?” she suggests with a sad smile.

I return the smile and try to hold back the tears that are building.

“Oh, no, no, no! None of that!” Ashley insists. She hops down from her stool. “I refuse to have a soggy good-bye with you. You’ll be back in a couple of weeks for the baby shower! It will feel like you never left.”

“All right, all right. I’ll pull it together, I promise,” I say, fanning my eyes.

She rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t you have a plane to catch?”

“Oh, now you want me to leave?” I laugh.

“Well, if you’re gonna make me cry, then yes!”

Our laughter dies down and a sudden seriousness hits us. I hop off my stool and go to throw away both of our drink cups.

“I really should get going,” I say when I turn back around.

Ashley nods. I pull her into a tight embrace. “I am going to miss you so much.”

“Me too,” she answers into my shoulder.

After a few more minutes we break apart. Ashley walks with me to the security line. She gives me a quick hug and makes me promise to text her as soon as I land. I get in line and shuffle along after the other people. When it’s my turn, I give the TSA agent my ticket and ID. He ushers me forward, and I look back to give Ashley one final wave before I step forward to get scanned and finish the security process.

***

The flight passes quickly and without too much trouble. I spent most of it cycling through different scenarios of how it will play out when I land and see Brandon again.

There is always the classic ’run and jump into his arms’ scene that is a staple in romantic comedy flicks. But perhaps we’re more subtle, something like a long embrace and a sweet kiss. Or, maybe he will try to play it down for the paparazzi and we’ll just act like long-time friends rather than a couple—at least until we get to the car…hmmm…maybe that could work out after all.

All my fantasy planning seems to have been in vain. I get off the plane but there is no sign of Brandon at the main gate. In all my excitement, I never checked my phone since turning it off for the flight. I power it up and make my way to the luggage area, thinking maybe he is meeting me there. When the screen flicks on there are two texts from him and a voicemail.

Not a good sign.

I stop walking and someone rams into me. I mumble an apology and step off to the side, along the wall, to check my messages.

“I’m so sorry. I won’t be there to pick you up today. I got stuck in a meeting with my PR firm. I’ll be at the house when you get there. I promise. I’m sending a car for you. They will meet you at baggage claim. I love you!”

And the second:

“Can’t wait to see you!!! I have a surprise waiting for you!”

I press the phone to my ear and listen to the voicemail which is basically the same thing he said in the texts. I frown and click off the phone before the message finishes. I stuff the phone back in my pocket and start walking again.

It’s unbelievable to me that he won’t be here. I’m not sure if I am more angry or disappointed.

I mean he wasn’t even planning on
being
in LA right now, so how could he have a meeting that’s so important he can’t get out of it to pick me up at the airport?

For a minute, I’m tempted to text him back and say something snappy, but I take a deep breath and remind myself that he probably tried his best to get here. I know how much he wants to see me. As I stand at the luggage carousel, I scan back through previous texts in which he was going on and on about how much we miss each other. It’s slightly ridiculous to read back, and I find myself laughing at the more syrupy lines.

There is a tap on my shoulder and I jump. I turn to see an older gentleman in a nice suit.

“Ms. McAdams?” he asks.

“Yes.” I realize he is probably the driver Brandon hired to pick me up.

He holds out a hand for me to shake. “I’m Keith. Mr. Hart’s driver.”

I shake his hand, wondering how in the world he knows who I am.

As if sensing my confusion, he pulls up a picture of me on his cell phone. “He sent me this, so I’d be able to spot you,” he says. “And here is my card, if you want to call Mr. Hart to verify everything.”

I nod. This is all so strange. I’ve never been picked up by a driver, and I don’t know the protocol. I take the card and give Keith a smile. “That won’t be necessary. Oh! There is one of my bags—one second,” I say, lunging forward.

“Please, allow me, miss.”

He gathers that bag and the other one when it comes down a few minutes later. He loads them onto a cart, and we head to his parked town car. He swiftly opens the door for me, and I pause before getting in, catching my first glimpse of a pack of photographers looming near the doors we just exited. A wave of anxiety swoops over me, and I can’t help but feel a little relief that Brandon isn’t here or I’m sure we would still be fighting our way through.

“Everything all right, miss?” The driver looks at me with lines of concern etched between his brows.

I nod and step into the car, and he softly closes the door after me before taking the luggage around to the trunk.

A few minutes later, we are headed away from the busy airport and excitement replaces my moment of fear.

As promised, I text Ashley and let her know I made it. I leave out the part about Brandon not being there to get me. For a moment I think to text my mom but decide against it and put my phone away. I emailed her before I left to give her the confirmation of the order I placed with a local bakery to do the cake and pastries for the baby shower. As predicted, if you ask nicely, people are willing to work with you, a lesson Valerie desperately needs to learn. At the end of the message, I assured her that I’d be back in time for the shower. She sent a reply to thank me for working out the deal with the bakery but did not mention anything about me leaving town.

Valerie, on the other hand, caught wind of my plans and sent a colorful string of text messages to drive home her point that I am basically throwing my life away.

I’m not sure what life it is I am supposedly throwing away to be with Brandon. I mean, let’s face it, I was working at a café making coffee and sandwiches, not formulating a plan for world peace. Of course I will miss my friends, family—well certain members—and my relatively quiet, small-town life, but I’m not sure that counts as throwing my life away.

I suppose she’s on my mom’s side, in that she pictured my future with James. I’d be the trophy wife to a handsome, successful business man. She wants me to simulate her life, maybe as some sort of validation of her own choices. It’s not that it would be a bad life. In fact, if I am honest with myself, two or three months ago, that’s exactly the path I was on, and I was okay with it. Until I wasn’t.

I shake it all away and try to clear my head. I don’t need their approval in order to live my life. If this is a mistake, I’ll find out sooner or later, and then I’ll be the one who has to deal with the fallout, not them.

Apparently what they say about Los Angeles traffic is true, because it takes us nearly an hour and a half to get from LAX to Brandon’s house, which is less than twenty miles away from the airport. I spend most of the drive looking out the window, familiarizing myself with this city that I will now call home. It’s sunny and clear, and the warmth radiating off the window feels nice on my skin.

We finally start winding our way up into the Hollywood hills and pull into a gated community. The car comes to a stop in front of a sprawling estate and I practically do a double take. The grounds look well maintained and lush with a variety of plants and perfect grass. My breath catches a little when I realize that this is where I will be living. I’ve never even visited a home like this before, let alone imagined living in one. Valerie’s house is the biggest I’ve ever been to, but this one looks much bigger.

Keith comes around to open my door and offers me a hand. I take it, needing the support as I get steady on my feet. He leaves my side to go retrieve my luggage and I stagger forward, trying to take it all in.

“Cherry!”

I turn and see Brandon crossing the yard. I’m not sure where he came from because the front door never opened. There must be secret trap doors somewhere. I mean don’t all of the cool houses have trap doors?

I start running across the yard and launch into his arms. He grips his arms tightly around me and I lock my legs around his waist. He weaves a hand through my hair and pulls my face to his, kissing me fiercely, as if it’s been years, not days, since we last saw each other.

Breathless, we finally break apart and stare at each other.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“Hi,” he replies with a smile. There is a shimmer in his eyes and I don’t know why but I start giggling uncontrollably. Something about the visual of us mauling each other in the middle of his front yard is funny to me.

“What is so funny?” He looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind.

“Nothing. I’m just happy to see you.”

“Well, good.” He kisses me again and then sets me back on the ground. “I was worried you’d be pissed and wouldn’t speak to me for the first week, since I ditched you at the airport.”

He takes my hand and starts leading me to the front door. “I can’t say I was thrilled, but I get it. You would have been there if you could have.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he growls against my temple. He gives me a devilish smile and eyes me up and down.

“You better,” I say with a wink.

Keith comes in behind us with the last of my luggage, and Brandon lets go of me to go and settle things with him. I watch as he presses a handful of bills into Keith’s hands. “Thanks man, I appreciate you being available on such short notice.”

“Anytime, Mr. Hart. You two have a nice day,” he says, turning to go.

“Thank you,” I call as Brandon escorts him out the door. 

I hear the door close and Brandon comes back into the room. I start tingling just watching him cross the room. He’s wearing relaxed-fitting jeans and a button-down, flannel shirt that has the sleeves cuffed to his elbow. I can’t help but notice that the first couple of buttons are undone.

He just looks yummy.

His eyes are dark and intense when he gets to me. He nudges me back till I’m pressed against the wall and stares at me for a long moment before leaning in and kissing me. I wind my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens.

“What do you think of starting the tour in the bedroom?” he asks with a smile as he pulls back.

“Yeah, I probably should get a jump on unpacking,” I tease, running my fingers through his hair.

“You’re impossible. You know that right?” he says, laughing.

“It’s part of my charm.”

All banter falls away when he kisses me again, and we head upstairs to the master suite, stopping along the way to kiss, taking turns pressing each other up against walls.

Brandon opens the double doors and ushers me into the massive room. It is decorated in neutral tones, with striking, masculine looking furniture. I look around quickly before my eyes fall back on Brandon. The rest of the room fades as our eyes lock on each other. My heart rate speeds up and my eyes dilate as I take him in.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” he says, staring back at me.

“I know.”

“Come here,” he says.

I step back into his arms and he runs his hands down my body as he pulls me flush against his body. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I say, popping up on my toes to bring my lips to his. He pushes his tongue past my lips and invades my mouth, exploring my tongue and the fullness of my lips. He nips my lower lip with his teeth and I moan at the sharp, but delicious pain. He pushes me up against the bed and makes me fall back. I sink into the softness of the bed and Brandon rakes his eyes over me. He slips his hands up the bottom of my shirt and brushes his fingertips over my stomach and up to the edges of my bra. Through the padding, I feel my nipples harden and strain against the silky cups.

He removes his hands, sliding back down my body. I whimper, wanting his hands back on my skin. He smiles down at me with a glint of naughtiness behind his eyes. He grabs the hem of my shirt and takes his time, slowly stripping it off my body. He leaves the bra on but kisses a hot trail down my exposed skin, lingering on the curves of my breasts, peeking out above the silk. My skin is hot and flushed as he devours me. His scruffy jaw nuzzles me and leaves a tingling sensation as he skims over me. Next to go, are my jeans, which he slides down my legs, quickly followed by my panties, leaving me laying before him, completely naked and exposed.

His eyes get darker as he watches me. I sit up and pull him back down to the bed and start removing his clothes. I slide his button up off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor, and then remove the shirt he was wearing underneath, sliding my hands up his firm abs and sculpted chest before I pull it off, over his head. He unbuttons his jeans and I follow his hands as he slides out of them. I stare at his bulge and start to peel away his boxer briefs. His cock springs free of the fabric, and stands at attention before me. I lean forward and place the head of it into my mouth, sucking gently, teasing him.

He groans and pushes me back on the bed. He lowers on top of me and grinds his hips against me. He rolls to one side and pulls at my hips, tugging me to straddle him. His cock is between my legs, rubbing at my slit, but he doesn’t enter me. He places his fingers at my folds and slowly spreads me apart. I moan as his thumb circles my clit, applying gentle pressure. I bounce up and down on him, feeling his cock near my opening, sliding in between my lips, slick with my juices. I move faster as I get closer and closer to the edge with each stroke of his thump and the pressure from his shaft against me.

“Oh, fuck!” I cry out as he slides a finger inside me. He thrusts another finger in and starts massaging the tender g-spot inside my tight pussy. I feel my own wetness start to run down onto Brandon’s lap as I squirm against him. Every fiber in my body is cinched tight, like loaded springs, waiting to be released.

I rock back and forth faster as he finger fucks me harder and when he adds a third finger, I lose control and scream out as I come hard and fast, bearing down as I shatter over the edge of climax and then relax onto Brandon's chest, shaking as I finish.

“Brandon, fuck me, please, fuck me.”

He flips me over and is on top of me before I can even blink. He guides his cock into me slowly at first but then pulls out and slams into me. I call out again and brace myself, gripping the blankets, as he slams into me again and again. I can hardly catch my breath in between thrusts, and he pushes me further than I’ve ever been, filling me completely and stretching me with every thrust of his throbbing cock. He comes quickly and I can finally catch my breath when he rolls off of me. He is breathless as he stares into my eyes, and we both laugh at each other from sheer joy.

“Can we go again?” I ask, once my body fully recovers from the shock of my powerful orgasm.

He laughs and grabs me in his arms, rolling back on top of me and teasing me with his cock, that is already starting to get hard again as he moves against me. “I’ll see what I can do,” he answers before kissing me fiercely.