Indiscreet by Nicole French

13

Will’s feet crunched on the gravel as he took a few steps toward me. I stepped back as he did, mirroring his movements. He walked into the light, and we both stopped moving.

He didn’t look like himself. I was struck by the difference between now and the last time he’d come to the property, soaked, in nothing but a dirty t-shirt and running gear, a sudden rainstorm cascading down his shoulder-length hair and the beard he trimmed, but never completely shaved off. Now the hair was short, still close to his scalp the way I had done it, but grown out a bit more on the top and styled in that haphazard way that was really hard to do. There were other, smaller differences. His clean-shaven face had grown a slight, perfectly groomed stubble, and his eyebrows had also been groomed, so slightly that anyone else might not have noticed. His body was both leaner and larger at the same time, the muscles tighter underneath a pair of perfectly tailored navy pants and a white button-down shirt, rolled up to his elbows. His hair was blonder. His fingernails were buffed. He was…perfect. Much more so than on any blurry screen.

They were things that erased Will and brought Fitz Baker back from the dead, changes so slight that anyone else might not have noticed. But I did. I knew every tiny line on that face, and every imperfection that had been erased.

He took another step forward, and again, I stepped back. He paused.

“It’s all right, Lil. It’s just me.” I started at the sound of his deep voice. It was almost as if, until he spoke, he’d been a ghost.

I glanced around nervously, wondering if we were being watched. That was what the cameramen did, right? Followed people like him around. Invaded their most personal moments.

“H-how do you know?” I asked.

The reflection of the streetlight lit up his short blond fringe like a halo. But it was more remarkable that his handsome face was so clearly lit. A lens five hundred feet away would have been able to take a recognizable photo of him. He was out in the open for the first time since I’d met him.

“Because I made sure of it,” he said. “Two decoys off the set, and I borrowed Corbyn’s jet. It’s waiting at a private airfield in Liberty Lake, where I wore a wig to get off. No one knew I left. As far as every paparazzi in LA is concerned, I’m asleep in my trailer on set.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even know what to make of that. There was a private airfield in Liberty Lake, the next town over? Will had access to a jet? Multiple decoys?

Was I living in a James Bond movie?

“But, Lil?”

I blinked, pulled out of my stupor by that familiar voice, those intense green eyes. Not everything had changed. And yet, the last time I’d seen him here, he’d had the same expression. Frantic. Desperate. Afraid.

Will took another step closer. This time, I didn’t move.

“Even if they were here,” he said slowly. “Cameras, reporters. Lily, I wouldn’t give a shit. I had to come. I had to see you.”

We stared at each other for several long seconds, the tension of our last conversation as palpable as before. I opened my mouth to say something, but the light glinting off the chrome hubcaps of the Yukon caught my eye. Maybe there were no cameras, but we still had an audience.

“Security?” I asked, nodding at the car.

Will, as telepathic as ever, followed my gaze and nodded.

“You can’t be too careful,” he said darkly and walked over to the car. The passenger window rolled down, revealing two of the detail I’d seen in New York.

“We’re good, guys,” he said. “You can park on the street.”

The bodyguards glanced toward me then back at Will like they disagreed, but in the end, nodded and rolled the window back up. We watched as the car moved slowly to the top of the hill, parking just over the ridge.

Will walked back to me. “Better?”

I folded my arms across my chest. “What are you doing here?” I asked again.

Will walked closer, taking careful steps, like he thought I might bolt. He reached out and drifted a finger down my cheek. “I told you, I had to see you.”

“Don’t you have to film tomorrow?”

He snorted. “Five a.m. call, yeah. But that doesn’t matter. So that leaves me…” He checked his watch—a pretty thing, shiny, metal, and new. “About eight hours to convince you to forgive me for being a dick.”

I sighed and stepped away again, this time toward the stairs. “Will…”

“Lil, I didn’t know. I swear to God, I didn’t know Amy was going to be my costar until she showed up on set this week.”

I looked away. “Come on…”

“I’m serious! That happens sometimes, all right? Someone drops out, the studio and director have to pinch hit to keep production going. That’s how I ended up here, after all. Or maybe—”

“Maybe what?”

Will shoved a hand through his hair, his fingers searching for length that wasn’t there anymore. Good, I thought, a bit vindictively. But it was nice to know that his new appearance wasn’t strange only to me.

“It did occur to me that Max might’ve done it on purpose,” he admitted. “For publicity and buzz. And maybe to get under my skin. It makes sense, right? The paps…they haven’t figured out that Amy’s there yet, but when they do, it’s going to be a shit storm.”

It was really, really hard not to scowl every time he said her name like that. Not Amelia, the name that everyone else in the world knew. Amy. It was familiar. Intimate. A reminder that once upon a time, Will had looked at her the way he looked at me.

“They know,” I said bitterly.

Will looked up. “What?”

I wrapped my arms around my waist. “It was on the cover of a magazine at the inn. Something about you ‘rekindling an old flame.’ They had pictures of the two of you from, I don’t know, somewhere. They know.”

“Shit…” Will dropped his hand to his neck and massaged it furiously. “Fuck. Goddamnit. Amy’s going to freak.”

I turned toward the stairs. I didn’t want to see him grappling with this. I had been dealing with it all day, so much worse after I knew who it was in that magazine. Amelia freaking Craig. Amy. Every time he said that name, I wanted to hurl a rock at him.

I didn’t like the side of myself that I was seeing. I wasn’t normally a jealous person. Even with Theo, when I knew he was stepping out, cheating, whatever, I never felt this way. Possessive. Almost animal. It was uncommonly strong, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Will asked, already thundering after me down the stairs.

“I don’t want to do this,” I said. The wood stairs creaked under my feet, but the repairs to them held strong.

“Don’t want to do what?” Will’s feet pounded after me, and it only made me jog that much faster.

“This!” I cried, even as he caught my hand and yanked me back around.

The sudden contact between us was electric—the warmth of his hand against my chilled skin, the sudden fact of him after weeks apart. My body caved to him even as my mind continued to fight.

“Please,” I said as I struggled to get away. “Please, let me go.”

Will ground his teeth hard enough to make a muscle twitch in his jaw. But he instead of releasing me, he pulled, hard enough that I had to stumble up two stairs into his arms.

“Never,” he said and kissed me.

His lips were insistent, angry, and full of the same desire that vibrated through my bones. This physical connection had always existed on another frequency with us, like a particular sound, a particular music that only we could hear. Our mouths warred, biting, nipping, sucking. But right now it didn’t feel like music. It just felt like noise. Chaos.

No! He lied to you! He hid everything from you, and he is still doing it! And that was when my mind won. I yanked my hand out of his clutch and shoved him back up the stairs.

“Lily, stop it,” Will demanded as he stretched toward me again.

But I danced out of reach. “No, you stop it!” I retorted. “You can’t show up, manhandle me, force me to feel like it doesn’t matter what you did. It’s manipulative and completely takes advantage of everything I feel about you, especially when…fuck…Will, I am SO mad at you right now!”

My words stopped him cold, and the anger and frustration written all over his face scrunched together as his mouth, swollen and full, dropped open.

“I…know,” he said.

A solid four breaths passed between us before I could answer.

“You know,” I repeated. That was it? That was all he had to say? I was mad, and he…knew?

Will took a deep breath. His chest was heaving, like he’d been running at full sprint and stopped on a dime. I was similarly struggling.

“It’s been a really long time since I did this,” he said. “A relationship. And I’m going to fuck it up. A lot. But, Lil, I need you. I’m dying down there, baby.”

At first, I softened. But visions of his increasingly distant video chats and phone calls fluttered through my mind. Especially the one earlier that day.

And the anger was back.

“Oh, you’re dying?” I asked. “It sure looked like you were having a terrible time partying it up on the beach. Sunshine and sand castles, right?”

Will scowled. “Give me a break—”

“Or maybe you didn’t want to tell me that either. Maybe you’re down there having the time of your life, ‘rekindling the flame’ with your b-beautiful former fiancée.”

Will’s eyes flared. “That is fucking ridiculous, Maggie, and you know it. This is me we’re talking about here.”

But I kept charging on, all of the resentment I had about not only him, but my entire situation tumbling out of me. “I see the spark in your eye when I talk to you. Even if you are telling the truth about her, you’re not telling the truth about all of it. I’m up here scrubbing fucking toilets during the day and trying to keep my mother alive at night while you’re down there living your dream.”

“Lil, seriously—”

“You’ve got your life back, right?” I rattled on, unable to stop the tears that had been threatening for a while now. “So who cares what I know about it, right? Who cares if I know that you’re going to be kissing your ‘Amy’ tomorrow, or that you’re spending time at her house? Who cares if I even know your real name, or anything about your life, right?”

“Maggie—”

“I just wish you would be honest! Because as much as you say you hate it, it seems more like you’re having the time of your life.”

“No, I’m not!” Will burst out. “And even if I was, it would be fucking terrible!”

“Oh, really?” I snapped. “And why is that, pray tell?”

“Because the love of my life is right fucking here, and she’s upset, and IT HURTS!” He slammed a palm over his chest––the heel of his hand hit his sternum with an alarming thump. “It fucking hurts, Lil,” he went on. “I’m surrounded by people who only want as much money from me as I can make for them, and that includes Amy, someone I was supposed to marry at one point.”

“Stop!” I cried. “I don’t want to hear about that!”

“Listen!” Will cut back. “These people…they’re fucking heartless. Lily, I just lost my dad, after four years of pretending I was dead to save his life. And they couldn’t delay filming long enough for me to clean out his house. That’s what kind of people I’m working with. Do you really think I would choose them over you? Over the one person in this entire fucking world who knows me, the real me, underneath this stupid fucking veneer they built?”

He gestured up and down at his new appearance, and my chest relaxed slightly at the fact that he knew what I saw. That he was as uncomfortable with the little changes as I was.

“Lil, look at me.” When I didn’t, he exhaled deeply. “Please.”

Slowly, I did. His eyes were shadowed here, away from the light, but I could still see his pain.

“Maggie, I’m sorry. I am sorry.” He shook his head, like he was trying to shake off some invisible weight. “But, baby, I would do so much more than lie to keep you in my life. Lie, cheat, steal, kill. None of it would matter if it meant I kept you.”

At first, words wouldn’t come out. Was he serious?

“That’s ridiculous,” I said, stuck in place as he joined me a step lower.

“I never said I was a good man,” Will said. “In fact, I think I told you the opposite.”

“I’m not your savior, Will,” I said, shaking my head.

“No,” he agreed. “You’re so, so much more.”

Our mouths hovered, right at the precipice of a kiss or a bite. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference, especially with Will. I leaned in. My lips were swollen, dying for another taste. It didn’t matter how angry I was—I still wanted him. I knew I always would.

And yet. My heart loathed for me to say it, but I knew I had to. Just as I knew I would have to keep my promise if I was ever going to maintain my self-respect.

“You want to keep me in your life, Will?” I said. “Then you can’t do any of those things. You can’t cheat. You can’t steal. You can’t kill. And if you ever, ever lie or keep things from me again, I’ll be gone. I don’t care how much I love you. I don’t care how much it hurts. You are not the only one who feels like their guts are being torn out when we’re apart. But I can’t be with someone I can’t trust. I cannot.”

Will squeezed his eyes shut, like he was physically feeling the metaphor. I couldn’t blame him. I was too. But I absolutely could not be with someone I couldn’t trust. “N-never—” I took a deep breath as I regained my voice. At the sound of my stutter, we both winced. “Never again.”

Will worried his jaw for a moment, then, apparently having made a decision, shot a hand out and captured mine, which he then slapped against his chest.

“Do you feel that?” he demanded.

I tried to pull my hand away, but he wouldn’t allow it. “What?” I asked. “What am I feeling?”

“My heartbeat, Lil. The one that beats for you.”

I scoffed. “Seriously?”

But his eyes held mine, unblinking, and without any trace of a joke. He pressed on my hand hard, forcing me to feel the deep, immediate thump of his heartbeat against my palm.

“If I ever lie or mislead you again, you can shove the knife in yourself,” he said solemnly.

I stared at my hand as I felt the solid rhythm.

“You’re crazy,” I whispered.

“Probably,” he agreed. “But I’m also yours.”

With the frank admission, something more than the usual possession that Will had said before, something inside me unraveled. Now it was my hand taking a fierce handful of fabric, holding him in place. Daring him to step away.

He remained absolutely still.

“M-mine?” I asked as I moved even closer.

Will exhaled, his sweet, fresh breath harsh and unsteady.

“Every goddamn cell,” he confirmed. The muscle in his jaw ticked again, and he stared at my lips. He clearly wanted to kiss me again, but this time was holding back. Not for his sake, but for mine.

I fingered the collar of his shirt.

“Mine,” I whispered as I took in his clothes. The ironed Egyptian cotton. The leather shoes that didn’t even have one scuff. I wanted to tackle him into the dirty and muddy him up. Like somehow that would make him more recognizable. “Mine.”

Our eyes met once more. For a second, the entire world seemed to take a breath. And then it was me…who attacked him. I launched myself at Will, and he caught me, falling easily to sit while he accepted a kiss that was almost violent while giving back as much or more. We tore at each other, tongues dipping, fingers clawing, bodies grinding as we fought each other, ourselves to get closer than we ever could possibly get in reality.

I tackled him into the stairs, my hands ripping at his expensive designer shirt hard enough that the buttons went flying into the pine needles and brush. Will didn’t flinch as he slid his own hands up my legs, underneath the hem of my shorts, under the elastic of my panties and gripping my ass so hard I knew there would be fingerprint-shaped bruises marring the skin. My fingers drifted over the hard, contoured edges of his chest, his abs, all of which were now so defined as to look chiseled from stone. Yet another slight change. I loved it…and hated it all at once.

“Mine,” I hissed as I bit his shoulder.

“Mine,” he mirrored with kiss after bruising kiss, so deep and torrid that I knew my lips would be swollen in the morning. We were claiming each other, for anyone to hear. For us to know.

His fingers hooked my underwear and yanked, tearing the thin lace in his hurry to tug them to the side. I had already pulled him out of his pants, could feel him long and heavy, slipping between my thighs, seeking my depths while the hand in my hair gripped even harder.

His other hand lifted, then met my bare ass with a loud crack that echoed through the trees. A lightning bolt of desire shot through me. He did it again, his mouth attached to my neck, and I arched back at the slice of delicious pain. He repeated the action, over and over, hard enough that my skin burned slightly after some countless strokes, and I knew it would be red well after he was finished. And lord, if I didn’t want it more than I’d ever wanted anything before.

His cock slipped in, maybe an inch, maybe more. And Will’s hand slapped me harder than ever and practically had me soaring right there.

And yet, the sound also made me freeze, knocking me partially back to my senses. What was I doing? Out here, in plain sight, where any one of the neighbors who shared this parking easement with us could pull up at anytime and see me riding a famous movie star like a mechanical bull at the top of my stairs. I was ridiculous. We were ridiculous.

“Stop!” I yanked his hand out of my hair painfully, then scurried up as I tugged my shorts back into place, and scampered down a few steps, safely out of his reach.

Will gaped at me, his chest heaving while he flexed his hand. His cock stood straight and long while his eyelids were heavy with desire.

“Don’t walk away from me, Lil,” he said, the words somehow both a threat and a plea. I could see in his eyes that he meant every word he’d said—he really would die before he let me walk away from him again.

Well. I had no intention of that. But I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my dignity or his just to give us what we both wanted in the moment.

“Not here,” I said, barely able to find my breath for the two short words. I reached out a hand for him to take. “Follow me.”