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“Hey wildcat.” There’s a softness to his voice. And maybe a slight slur.
“Jackson, are you drunk?”
He chuckles. “I’m ‘fraid so. Our couple of beers turned into a few more. And maybe a shot or two.”
I’ve never seen Jackson have more than two drinks. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. It was good. But I obviously can’t drive back. Kyle said I could crash on his couch.”
“Okay, yeah. That’s a good idea.”
“I’m sorry, wildcat. Really ‘rresponsible of me.”
“Jackson, it’s fine. And you’re being very responsible by staying put.”
“I’d rather be in bed with you.” Disappointment fills his voice. “Are you wearing only that robe?”
I look down at myself fully clothed. Definitely not how I wanted to spend my night – dealing with my asshole ex and going to bed alone.
I need to tell Jackson about meeting with Ben and I’m curious about the screenplay he mentioned. I can’t imagine Jackson writing a screenplay and not telling me. There has to be more to the story, but I don’t want to bring it all up while he’s been drinking.
“Yeah, I am,” I say as I start to undress.
He groans. “I’m never drinking again.”
I laugh at that. “Go and pass out. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay. Wildcat…I missed you today. Is that weird? It’s only been half a day.”
“Not weird. I missed you too. I’ll see you in the morning. We have a whole other day to take advantage of this bed.”
He hums his interest. “And the desk. I thought it looked awfully sturdy.”
I glance at the desk next to the large window. “Mmm, you got yourself a deal. Sweet dreams.”
“Sweet dreams, wildcat.”
Another saucy Autumn Atwood voicemail emerges with pictures to prove her interest in Ben Townsend is very much current.
I’m feeling very naughty. I checked into the Starlet. Meet me here. I know you can do it without being caught. Please…it’s been too long, baby.
19
AUTUMN
As soon as I open my eyes in the morning, a sinking feeling fills my stomach. I brush it off as nervousness about telling Jackson about Ben. Not that I think he’ll be mad we met, but I know he’ll be upset he wasn’t here for me and able to face Ben himself. But as much as I tell myself it’s no big deal, I can’t get past this feeling that something’s wrong.
Jackson texts that he’s leaving Kyle’s at 8:43am. I jump into the shower and when I look at my phone again at 9:04, my bad feeling is confirmed.
And it’s far worse than I ever imagined.
There are dozens of notifications, three missed calls from Jackson, two from Maren, and two from Ed. Plus a battery of missed texts. I ignore them all and frantically read about Ben’s latest attempt to ruin my life.
I don’t know how long I sit on the bed, wrapped in a towel, with my phone in my hand. My final voicemail to Ben bringing back that night in startling clarity. It was my last-ditch effort to save our relationship, and in the end, it was our demise.
It started as a sexy rendezvous, like I’d hoped, then his words had turned cruel. The sex became rougher and not in an enjoyable way. I’d feared he would hurt me, or not stop if I’d asked. But he did stop. Then proceeded to call me a tease and whore before degrading pretty much everything about me until he’d completely eviscerated me. Adding insult to injury, he tossed money on the nightstand when he left, as if I was a prostitute instead of his girlfriend.
How could I have forgotten so much of that night? I must have suppressed it, because if I’d remembered it as vividly as I do now, I would have never agreed to work with him again. Screw being polite.
