Chapter 18 #2
Josh is breathing heavily as I look at him, his lips already puffy from frantic kisses. My eyes widen as I try to adjust myself to Heath’s command and step away from him.
We all take a moment, and the silence is loud. Way too loud.
“There are things to discuss,” Heath says, and I nod. So does Josh.
“Yeah, we know,” my boyfriend replies. “There’s a lot to talk about.”
“Too fucking right there is.” Heath takes a deep breath, then looks at me. “Firstly, how are you, Ella? I’ve been worried sick.”
I play the situation down, giving him a bright smile.
“I’ve been ok. Thanks to Josh. He’s been amazing.
I mean the bulk of it’s passed now.” I hate my stupid giggle.
“It’s old news. With Connor being such a douche, and me getting my confidence back, things are fine.
Nobody even recognises me. Nobody. It’s all just crap online now, and I’m hardly ever mentioned. Just a ghost.”
I feel like a fraud as I try to reassure him, wiping the whole sorry mess away like it doesn’t matter, so it’s no shocker that he doesn’t buy it.
I can read the line of his eyebrows, pitted.
He looks just like the Count does when someone is attempting to bluff their way out of being bitten on Nighttime Whispers.
“Try again,” he says. “From the top. And don’t insult me with bullshit this time. How are you, Ella?”
Josh stands to Heath’s side so he can watch me, giving me a gentle nod to encourage me.
“It’s been absolutely fucking shit,” I say.
“The whole lot of it. I didn’t move for weeks after the news hit.
I was too scared to go outside, too scared to go online, too scared to do anything but sit on the sofa and cry my way through a million pizzas.
I thought life was over, that my career was done, that everyone in the world would hate me for ever.
And if I hadn’t had Josh…” I close my eyes.
“If I hadn’t had Josh, it would have been a whole lot worse.
I swear to God, I don’t know how I’d have ever handled it. ”
“Well, then thank God you did have him.” He squeezes Josh’s shoulder. “You’re a very lucky woman. And he’s a very lucky man to have been close enough to help you. Some of us didn’t have that pleasure.”
I brush my tears from my cheeks.
“I wasn’t lying though, when I was gabbling about it. Not totally. It is all just crap online now, and there’s barely a mention of me anywhere. I’m back, I’m me again, and I’ll never take a single day of calm for granted. No way. It’s bliss.”
“You never know what you’ve got til it’s gone, do you?” Heath says, and my heart hurts.
My shell breaks.
“We’ve missed you so bad,” I choke. “It’s horrendous. I’ve been feeling it like a cut in the guts, and as for Josh…”
Josh looks up at the ceiling, trying to keep his composure, and I want to stay strong for him, but there is going to be no playing it cool. We were kidding ourselves, right from the start.
Heath turns his attention to my boyfriend. His pitted eyebrows return.
“You ignored my proposals. Why?”
Josh sighs. “For your sake, not ours.”
“That was my call to make, don’t you think? Surely I’m the one in charge of what my sake would have been and whether it was worth it, no? I was the one asking, and you were the one clicking decline.”
Heath walks over to the minibar, next to the massive dressing table. He shakes his head as he takes out a bottle of Prosecco.
Shit. He’s hurt.
More than that, he’s fucking pissed off.
“I was trying to protect you,” Josh says. “Believe me, hitting decline was the last thing I wanted to do.”
“You two can say it was like a cut in the guts all you want, but you were the ones shutting me out. It was like a stab in the heart every time you hit the decline button.”
Josh takes my hand as we walk over. Heath grabs three glasses and pops the cork with overzealous hands.
“Ells had nothing to do with it,” Josh says. “She didn’t even know about the first few times I declined.”
“I’m not surprised she didn’t,” Heath replies.
“I didn’t expect her to be in any position to handle the interaction, but as for you, Josh…
” He hands us each a glass of fizz. “Give me enough respect to make my own decisions, please. You can’t always be the protector.
You’re not the security guard of other people’s emotions.
I have enough security guards around me already, thank you. ”
Josh puts his glass on the dressing table without taking a sip.
“I did it for you, not me. Someone needed to keep a semblance of a level head while things were a shit storm. Ells needed me to keep her as far away from the drama as possible, and the last thing you would have needed was to step into it. Don’t make me feel like an asshole for loving you, Heath, because it took every scrap of my resolve to turn those proposals away. Every single fucking scrap.”
Silence.
Another bout of deadly silence that feels like the jury is out.
Until Heath raises his glass to his lips with a sigh.
“Thank fuck you finally decided to accept.”
“Yes, I did accept. As soon as I could. When the coast was clear enough to risk it.”
Heath tips his head to the side. “So, you qualified as an operational meteorologist once you left Cannes, did you? How fucking impressive.”
Josh’s eyes flash with rage.
“What do you want me to say? Sorry for giving such a toss about your career, Heath. Good job I was a weather forecaster, since it seems you’d have walked straight into the fires of Hell without so much as putting your sunglasses on, like an idiot.”
Jesus, the emotions in the room are so intense it’s like bobbing on waves. Sobbing in open arms one minute, confronted by cold hurt the next. But it makes the conversation between Josh and I at the breakfast bar earlier more pertinent, because Josh was right.
Heath’s heart is full on in control, his mind and logic sitting far behind in the back seat. Tragic, but beautiful.
I look from one man to the other as their stares burn each other’s eyeballs.
Finally, it’s Heath who cracks a smile.
“I would have at least worn sunglasses, you cheeky bastard.”
Josh cracks a smile right back.
“Whatever, Heath. You’re not The Count in real life, sneaking in and out of the shadows. You’re a guy who’d have had a camera aimed at him anywhere within a fifty-mile radius. Stop talking bollocks. I made the right call.”
Heath takes a swig of Prosecco.
“I’m still pissed off. Don’t think I’m not.”
But Josh has him. His grin is still on his face as he closes the distance between them, and the bond is clear as day. He brushes some of Heath’s long silky hair behind his ear and leans in tight.
“You can be pissed off all you want. It’s the truth.”
The chemistry sizzles between them. It’s alive with lust that makes my skin prickle.
Heath holds up a finger.
“If anything even vaguely like this ever happens again, promise me you won’t hit decline.”
Josh shakes his head.
“I can’t do that.”
Heath starts in horror. “Why the fuck not?”
The way Josh stares at Heath gives me a lurch so bad I have to hold my stomach.
“Because I love you too fucking much to pull you into Hell.”
With that, the Prosecco in Heath’s hand goes tumbling. The glass smashes on the dresser as Heath takes Josh’s face in his hands and kisses him with a fervour beyond all reason. I watch from the sidelines with my heart in my throat, fixated on the passion before me.
It’s off the charts, unbridled.
They crash onto the bed together, tearing at each other’s clothes in desperation, and it’s a battle for who is on top, both of them practically wrestling.
It’s verging on violent. A power struggle of love mixed with rage.
I back myself against the wall and clench my thighs, so horny for them myself that I can barely take it.
But I want to see who wins this time. I want to see who commands the moment.
It’s usually Josh. He’s normally the guy on top when it comes to Heath and dishing out dirty fun.
In all the times I’ve been around them, it’s usually my boyfriend who takes the alpha position.
But not tonight. Heath is too wound up.
He straddles and pins Josh to the mattress, slamming his arms up above his head and gripping them like a vice.
“If I want to walk into Hell, I’ll walk into Hell. That’s what love is, Josh. It’s letting someone in, not slamming the door in their face when they’re crying out for entry.”
Josh bucks up at him, jaw gritted.
“You’re out of your fucking mind, Heath. That’s why I slammed the door in your face. One of us had to stay sane. One of us had to steer the fucking boat.”
“I could have helped steer the fucking boat!”
“NO!” Josh shouts, still bucking. Battling. “You’d have got tangled up in the carnage with us, brought more camera flashes along with you, and chucked your career overboard in the process. Listen to me, will you? Just fucking listen!”
Another round of wrestling ensues and it’s Josh who sits on top this time. Heath writhes under him, but Josh is used to playing rough. He crushes Heath’s thighs together in a snake grip.
“I did it because I love you, and I’d do it again. You need to accept that, or we’re all in line to be shafted if another crisis hits.”
“I’m not going to accept it! No fucking way!”
“What’s the alternative? You’re Heath fucking Mason.
The idol of millions. You really want to risk getting associated with a pair of high-class hookers?
Seriously? And if you did, what good would that do us?
It didn’t do Ella any good to have the cameras fucking flashing in her face, I promise you that. ”
Josh is talking with such strength. His rationale is far more solid than I could have managed, and I admire him for it. I love him for it.
I adore him, heart and soul.
And I adore Heath for battling him.
Heath stops writhing. He curses under his breath, still firmly in Josh’s grip as the words sink in.
“It was hell,” Heath says.
“Yes, it was,” Josh replies. “For all of us. Which is why it can’t happen again.”
“And what’s your answer to that, oh wise one?” Heath asks. “What does the operational meteorologist have in store as the grand solution?”
“The same as always,” Josh says, and moves his hips, teasing Heath’s cock through his trousers, belt still half undone.
“Fuck you,” Heath says, and Josh smirks.
“Yes, please. Fuck me all you like. Get it out of your system.”
“If you think I was rough a minute ago, you have another think coming.”
“Fine by me. Come here, Ells,” Josh says, flashing me a glance over his shoulder. “Let’s have a taste of the same as always, Heathy baby, and get the tension out. I don’t know about you, but it’s a dish I’ve been craving for months.”
“You mean we fuck our way out of it? Great stuff, Josh. Great start.”
Heath is full of sarcasm, but he’s buckling. His body relaxes under Josh.
“Bastard,” he says. “You know I can’t resist you.”
“The feeling is entirely mutual. And yes, it is a great start.”
Josh’s eyes are so fierce on Heath’s, the tension so alive, I can feel it. But it’s changing, morphing. The electric is rising off the charts.
I kick off my stilettos as I walk to the bed in silence.
The same as always.
I get exactly what Josh means. It’s so natural to climb up beside them and run my hand down Heath’s chest. The beautiful familiarity makes my soul sing.
The same as always is us. As us. Like now. Here. In the moment. Together.
Loving each other alongside the filth.
I’m so desperate for the same as always that I’m starving, and it’s a dish we’ll savour together.
Heath doesn’t need any more convincing by the time my hand reaches his belt. He pulls me close, locking me in a gaze that makes my heart sing through the pain.
“I’ve missed you so badly, my beautiful curva. My sweet curva. My dirty angel curva, with your dirty angel smile.”
“I’m back now, don’t worry,” I tell him, and land my lips on his.
My God, I hope the same as always lasts for ever.
I don’t want to live without it.