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Spotting a comfortable lounger on the brick deck of the inn, I settle in as morning light begins to blanket the vast canvas in front of me. It’s then that some semblance of peace wafts over me. Cocooned in the dream-like setting, I bat away the guilt of unplugging. I’d turned off my phone when I’d arrived here, not out of spite, but because of temptation. For so long I’ve counted on my marriage as my grounding, my foundation. It’s what’s expected when you accept the invitation to share your life with someone. But it’s a single question that gnaws at me now. Without Lucas, without the life we built together, who would I be?
I swore myself independent when we met. I’d never looked for my happiness in someone else. My dreams were my mission to accomplish. Somehow, in the years Lucas and I have shared together, our relationship, and his career had become a crutch for me, and that was what I feared most when we got together. With faith, I made the decision to step away and travel with Lucas, to be his partner, and that had drastically backfired. Even though I had already taken measures to kick-start my career back into motion, the thought of going at life again without the man who had molded and shaped me for the last six years to rely on him, to trust him, has me paralyzed. He’d worked so hard to earn that trust, asked for that reliance, and I gave it to him wholeheartedly.
Where are we supposed to draw the line? How do you trust, rely on, love, and build all the while keeping your sense of self? These are answers I need to figure out before I can face him. Lucas was always resilient when it came to us and any obstacle that revealed itself along the way. Our chemistry was addicting, his refusal to let it be only that was what drew me in further. Nothing about our courting was typical, and Lucas did most of the grunt work. He was invested in us from the beginning and proved as much after our first date when I got my first glimpse of real Hollywood.
He hadn’t called or texted in the days following our ‘non’ date, and I’d been trying my best not to obsess over it. I’d been in two long-term relationships in my life and had never considered permanency with either guy, at least it hadn’t been at the forefront of my mind. My mother instilled in me that it was more important to grow in my skin before I commit myself to anyone else. It’s sound advice, it keeps me subjective…and mostly single. The truth is I’ve been holding out. My relationship with my ex, Daniel, had been easy, too easy. We had a lot in common. On paper, we would have been perfect had we lasted, but in the end and after years of my life with him, I realized he was a snapshot, not part of the bigger picture. We grew comfortable, and I got bored. I vowed I would never waste my time on anyone else I could do without. Playing it safe in love kills optimism for something more. I’d wasted half my twenties with men who it would never have occurred to me to love in the forever sense. And I wasn’t about to repeat that same mistake. Maybe I’d been too busy growing into myself to concentrate on what love meant to me, but I was awake now, and I didn’t want to close my eyes anymore to the desires of my heart, which had laid dormant far too long. I wanted something intense, something more exciting, consuming. Getting swept up in an affair with Hollywood royalty wouldn’t be the worst thing for my flavorless love life, and from our last date it was obvious Lucas was a robust salt.
Every night for the past four days I’ve gone to bed with my fingers between my legs, exhausting myself with want. Even if I never heard from him again, it was better to picture his face in my fantasies than any other. Growing up in LA, it’s become second nature to spot screen stars and not give it a second thought. But it’s completely different to be on the receiving end of their attention, their affection. To find yourself at the center of their universe. It’s addicting to get intimate with someone so seemingly untouchable, an adrenaline spike like no other. But it isn’t so much Lucas’s status as it is the way he looks at me, and the heady touch of his lips, the breath I lose when he pulls away and our eyes connect. It’s intoxicating, so much so I can’t play indifferent to it, not that he lets me. It may be foolish to want more, but I can’t fault myself for it. Lucas Walker is my new wet dream, and I just want to linger in it a little longer. Finally accepting that our date is going to remain a permanent daydream, I resign myself to be grateful for the experience. As soon as I make that decision my phone rings, his deep voice covering me in a thin veil of expectation. As much as I like him, I will not be an afterthought.
“Mila, how are you, beauty?”
Curious as to why you haven’t called me in four days.
Instead of being petty, my reply is guarded but polite. “Just about to take a shower and uncork a bottle.”
“Save that cork. I’m sending a car for you.”
“Oh? Another private lesson?”
“Such a smartass. I want to see you. I’m leaving tomorrow, and I could use some advice.”
“On what?”
He pauses a few seconds.
“Lucas, are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here, sorry. I’ll ask for it when you get here.”
“This is a conditional solicitation for advice?”
There’s a barrage of noise in the background, and I hear his muffled voice as if he’s put his phone to his chest.
Annoyed with only half his attention and his lack of manners—in more ways than one—my irritation leaks when I speak. “Do you need to call me back?”
“No, no. And yes, you have to be present. So will you come?” Though distracted, the hopeful lift in his voice brings me back to our blanket and the shy, vulnerable side of him I find so attractive.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you want to see me?”
“You want a reason?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Fine, I’ll take the bait because…I can’t stop thinking about you.”
I smile at myself in the bathroom mirror. It’s a start.
“What exactly is it that you can’t stop thinking about?”
I can sense his grin over the line. “I can make you blush, Mila. It’s a beautiful sight. I bet you’re doing it now thinking along the same lines as I am. I bet you can feel that warmth creeping up your neck as I speak.”
Studying my reflection, I note the rapid rise and fall of my chest and the light pink hue burning my cheeks. The silver-tongued bastard has seduced me in seconds by phone.
“I won’t be so easily swayed.”
