Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CASS
“Fuck, Cass.” He inhaled deeply, his nose buried in her hair, before sighing it out with a groan. “I missed you.”
Her shirt was rucked up over her boobs, her bra half pulled off, and pants stuck around her upper thighs in Josh’s frenzied rush to disrobe her. The room’s heating shut off, and the dull hum cut out abruptly, leaving the sound of their jagged breath. She leaned back against his chest, his heartbeat still hammering, and she let out a breathy giggle. “You’ve seen me every day this week.”
One week on opposite sides of the set, barely enough time to trade glances. One time, she passed behind him while he talked to the crew, close enough to trail her fingertips over his back, and he stopped speaking midsentence. She thought her hand would catch fire.
Her hair tangled in crazy coils where his cheek had pressed into the side of her head as he’d thrust against her. She shuffled her shirt down and tried to reposition her bra to do its job again.
Josh swatted at her hands and took a handful of her boob in a nearly gentle grip. “Don’t put them away yet. Let me look at you a minute longer,” he murmured, and she could feel his smile pressing against her hair .
“The pictures I sent weren’t enough? I thought you liked them!”
“I fucking loved them, but nothing compares to having my hands on you.”
“As much as I agree, you have no idea how uncomfortable it is to have your boobs half hanging out of a bra,” she chided, squirming pleasantly against him until he released her with a petulant groan.
With a final squeeze, he eased himself from her, dropping a kiss on her neck. Her butt found the edge of the desk behind her, the laminate finish cool against her skin. She shimmied her pants up, her underwear a mess after being pushed aside instead of removed.
Not like she had wanted him to take the time. The stolen quickie was so much hotter than a sedate and methodical removal of clothing. All of said clothing now hopelessly dishevelled. At least the day was almost over, and she could go home to shower. Maybe he’d come with her. Her heart fluttered as she adjusted her shirt.
Josh turned away to pull off the condom and wrapped it in tissue, tossing it in the bin. With a quick zip of his fly and a hand through his hair, he looked perfectly put-back together.
Honestly . She scanned the room for a reflective surface. “Do I look okay?”
He ran his tongue over his teeth and gave her a wicked grin that popped his dimples. “You look like I just fucked you over a desk, Lucky Charms.”
Well, that was just ducky. She clicked her tongue, hiding her grin. “Will you help me straighten up? Not all of us have well-behaved hair like you.”
“I like that your hair isn’t perfectly behaved. Almost as badly behaved as you, naughty girl,” he said, coiling a strand around his fingers. His smile grew more wicked, and he left a sucking kiss on her neck hard enough to leave a mark before she could push him awa y. “The minute you leave, everyone is going to know exactly what we were doing in here.”
Screwing each other’s brains out as soon as we had the chance . All while the crew was probably looking for them—him—for any number of things to wrap filming. Only time would take care of her swollen lips and flushed cheeks, but as soon as they stepped out of his office, her post-orgasm glow would be broadcast across the set. Heat flooded her body. “I can’t believe we just did that.”
“I can. I’ve been thinking about this all week.” He sat on the edge of the desk, where he’d bent her over minutes ago, and tugged at her until she was back in his embrace. With the frenzy of sex behind them, he trailed soft kisses over her jaw and slid his hands up the back of her shirt. “Let’s stay here a few minutes longer. Let people forget they saw us come in here.”
Maybe he didn’t want people to know they’d been together. They weren’t together. Not in that way.
Or were they? After spending Christmas together, all the messages they had sent in the week since, perhaps he wanted to see if long distance would work? Now, with his hands all over her and the bulge in his pants pressing against her hip, they existed in a limbo where nothing was said and nothing was defined.
“Josh,” she said, tilting her head to give him better access to her neck. “We should talk.”
“We really should.” He slid his hand down her back and squeezed her butt. “Later.”
God, he’d never let her escape.But why escape, when the man she had fallen in love with was telling her how much he wanted her, and how beautiful she was? When the first chance he had, he spent time with her, and no one else.
Her thighs still throbbed with the feel of him, but she would take as much of him as she could.
“Promise we’ll talk later?”
He licked her pulse point. “Promise. ”
Later , she thought, and opened her mouth to his and let herself fall into his kiss.
A quick succession of knocks broke the air, and the door burst open.
So much for no one finding out , she thought with a sheepish giggle, but Josh froze against her.
A tiny woman Cass didn’t recognize stood open-mouthed, hand still on the doorknob. She wasn’t part of the crew. Her pants and a blazer were from a designer that Cass never would have been able to afford, her black hair hanging in a crisp curtain to her collarbones. Her oval face had a pinched look that was oddly blank.
Cass wasn’t surprised at her confusion—the set was massive—but she was surprised to see the strange woman milling about on premises. Josh had ordered a closed set for their final scenes after they’d caught paparazzi sneaking in again weeks ago.
But this woman didn’t look like a paparazzo. She looked like money. Maybe she was an out-of-town producer that Melanie had invited for the last day of shooting. Cass tried to disentangle herself to smooth a rogue curl out of her eyes, but Josh locked his arms around her. For all his dirty talk of having people walk in on them, he seemed much less cool with the reality of it actually happening than she was.
At least all their clothes were in the right spots. Mostly.
Cass gave the woman a grin and tried unsuccessfully to squirm out of Josh’s grip. “Um, this is awkward.”
“It certainly is,” the woman replied in a tight voice.
“Are you lost?” Cass squirmed again. “Looking for someone?”
The woman closed her mouth with a snap, then gave a brisk nod. “Yes,” she said, not taking her eyes off Josh. “My husband.”
“Oh, sure,” Cass said, and tried to step back again. Josh still hadn’t released her, and she clicked her tongue at him with a smile. “If you let me go, I can help her find him. ”
“Actually,” the woman said, her pallor rapidly being replaced by a flush racing up her neck, “I just did.”
It didn’t sink in. Not at first. The word rattled around her brain. A key to figuring out something important, like a cipher to a code.
Cass took a step back, fighting against the cage of Josh’s arms. Something dark opened up in front of her as it registered. Then, the tumblers of a lock fell into place, the door opened, and her heart broke free from her chest to shatter at her feet.
Her husband .
Josh was married.
She’d known him for months and he’d never said. All the times they had been together. As coworkers. As friends.
As lovers. A rushing filled her ears and she made herself breathe so she didn’t collapse, and the realization sunk in.
Why would he have said anything? He’d never intended for her to be anything more than casual. They lived in different cities. There was no reason to assume they’d ever see each other again once the film wrapped.
Because he’d be going home to his wife.
“Cass.” His voice wasn’t even a whisper. “It’s not what it looks like.”
She stared blankly at the floor, as if she could see the broken pieces of her heart scattered there. The warmth of where his chest had pressed against her back still lingered. One hand covering her cries as he’d driven himself inside her, his other hand working where they joined as she came apart underneath him. Minutes ago.
Her centre still ached from him being inside her, and Cass was face-to-face with his wife.
“A PA said she’d thought I could find you here,” the woman said, speaking directly to Josh like Cass was a piece of furniture. Her voice so unded like it was coming from across an ocean. Cass didn’t know if her voice sounded far away because the woman was in shock, or if she was. “No one answered the first time I knocked.”
As he whispered in her ear that they were too good together, his wife was knocking on the other side of the door. She’d whimpered against him just days ago, promising him all week no one else would touch her. That she was his. Only his. He could have all of her.
And now his wife was looking at her, with his hand still up the back of her shirt, her lipstick staining his mouth, the scent of their sex in the air.
“Oh,” Cass whispered. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
Each of her muted footfalls felt like they would sink into the floor, lifting again like she was wading through a bog. Cass fought through the murk and picked up her stride, hoping the air would dry her tears before they fell. She couldn’t get the image out of her mind. His wife—his wife —looking at him with dawning horror, her dark eyes widening as she registered the scene in front of her.
She didn’t know where to go. She looked blindly around the set. Bex running, Terry smiling. Stephen and Dawson huddling in front of the director’s screen. Stephen’s head popped up, brows knitting together in confusion, eyes darting from her to the footsteps coming down the hall behind her.
Had Stephen known? Of course he would have. They were best friends. And he hadn’t said anything to her. A spear of betrayal sliced through her core. All she could hope was that she wouldn’t stumble and bring any attention to herself.
She heard the squeak of his sneakers behind her before his fingers circled her wrist.
“Cass.” His voice, more than his touch, halted her flight, and his words spilled out in a low rush. “I can explain.”
Her feet stalled under her, breaths still coming in shallow gasps. She w anted to believe whatever he’d say, whatever honeyed words would flow from his mouth. But he’d just left his wife standing on the other side of the building. The wife he’d kept from her for the months they’d known each other.
Or thought she’d known him.
And what was there to explain? He was married. That was all the explanation needed.
“Please don’t touch me.”
“This isn’t what it looks like.”
“Isn’t it? Because it sure looks like I just met your wife.” A choked laugh erupted from her throat that threatened to turn into a sob, and she pressed her lips together and turned away.
“It’s not like that. I didn’t want to tell you because?—”
“Then I wouldn’t sleep with you.”
A flash of guilt crossed his features. “That’s not it,” he said in a low, urgent voice.
She gulped a sharp breath and struggled to free her arm from his grasp. “I don’t know you at all. I thought … I don’t know what I thought. What else haven’t you told me?”
He pressed his lips together, and what was left of her heart ripped at the seams.
“Cass,” he tried again, his hand still securely on her wrist, “you need to listen to me.”
Anything he said would be the things he’d think she wanted to hear. “Actually, I don’t think I do.”
“Give me a chance?—”
“Enough.”
Josh stalled, and dropped his hand to his side.
Her eyes burned, and the empty ache in her chest crowded her throat. She couldn’t listen to this. Not now. Not from someone who didn’t respect her enough to tell her something so important.
Cass wiped her hands over dry cheeks and stared at the rigging over his shoulder, avoiding his eyes.
“I need time to think. Please leave me alone. ”
He didn’t follow her as she walked away.
Libby poured another inch of the flat faux Champagne into the plastic tumbler. An emptybottle of cheap red blend sat beside the remains of a carton of ice cream, upturned in the kitchen sink.
Sirius Darker had wrapped. The proudest she’d ever been of her work, and instead of joining in celebrations with the crew, she’d slunk out at the end of the day without a word. Like she was the one who had done something wrong. Libby had stayed with the crew a short while, showing up less than an hour later at Cass’s door with sugar, alcohol, and a shoulder she was prepared to get wet.
Ice cream and wine. The perfect pairing for heartache. A terrible pairing for gastrointestinal distress. The ice cream was already curdling in her stomach as Cass swigged from the bottle.
Josh had blown up her phone the minute she’d left set. He’d buzzed her apartment from downstairs minutes after Libby had arrived. He hadn’t tried to sneak up, or at least he’d been unsuccessful, and the buzzing had stopped after an hour.
“You know,” Cass slurred, “last time I got this drunk, it was after that jerk who bailed after five minutes on that stupid date. Josh was the first person I called.”
He’d said she was beautiful. He’d said he’d write sonnets about kissing her.
He’d said a lot of things. But not that he was married.
She was so stupid.
Libby’s brows threaded together. “Why didn’t you call me instead that night?”
“You were with Stephen.” Cass shrugged weakly. “I didn’t want to take you from him. You have other priorities, and I need to get used to you not always being there for me. ”
“I would have come to get you. Just because Stephen and I are together again doesn’t mean you aren’t important to me.”
But that’s what happened. Friends partnered off. Weekly brunches became monthly. Girls’ nights out became fewer and further between. Libby’s biological clock was ticking like a time bomb, and Stephen was more than ready to put a baby in her. Soon, there would be even less Libby to go around.
It didn’t matter anymore.
Libby tugged the bottle out of Cass’s arms and put it out of reach. She chewed her lip and said in a low voice. “As much as it pains me to say this, Stephen thinks you should talk to him.”
Cass whipped her head up and the room caught up a half second later. Her stomach roiled, and it wasn’t entirely from the wine. “Stephen knew. And he didn’t say anything. Why should I listen to him? Or Josh, for that matter? So he can tell me about his wedding day?” A fresh wave of pain washed over her, and she pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle a sob.
“I don’t think he did know. Stephen didn’t tell me much. Just that you should hear Josh out. Stephen wouldn’t do anything to purposefully hurt you, and not only because he knows I’d disembowel him if he did.”
“What can he possibly say that will make this better?”
“I don’t know if it will make anything better, but I know you love him, and you deserve answers, if not peace.”
The spot in her chest ached. She wanted nothing more to believe him. And Libby, who took a lot more convincing than she did, was saying she should listen.
She didn’t know if she was a sucker for punishment or a hopeless romantic. If her track record was anything to go by, this wasn’t going to go well. With a tired resignation, she pulled out her phone.
Okay, I’ll listen
“We’ve been separated for almost three years.”
Against her better judgement, she agreed to meet him. Somewhere public. Coffee. Before he had to meet with producers and Melanie, and who knew who else, to start on post-production. In one week, Cass wouldn’t need to be at those meetings anymore. Her job would be done. There’d be no reason to see him anymore.
One coffee. She could give him fifteen minutes today.
Thirty, tops.
Still can’t say no.
The midmorning sun diffused through the low overcast and gauzy curtains to cover the busy café with a grey tinge. The chair’s uneven wooden legs struck the floor like a tap dancer as she shifted from side to side. She swirled the contents of her oversized mug, unable to convince herself to take a sip.
Josh sat across from her, eyes bloodshot and smudged purple, his wet jacket slung over the back of his chair. He hadn’t touched his coffee, his posture mirroring hers, hunched over as if to position himself closer to her. A few stray drops of melted snow hung in his hair like jewels, and she wanted to run her fingers through the jet strands. Even now, he looked devastatingly handsome.
Operative word: devastating . She tore her eyes away and stared into her untouched mocha.
“I haven’t lived with her—hell, I’ve barely been in the same room with her—in all that time. Ask Stephen. I’m trying to get a divorce, but she keeps dragging it out. In every way, except on paper, that marriage has been over for a long time.”
Cass tipped her mug from side to side. “Do you know how many women have been told that same story by a married man?”
He gripped the back of his head and tilted back, the golden glow of his skin rendered wan in the flickering lights overhead. “What do you want to know? I’ll tell you anything. ”
Cass’s gut squeezed up into her throat and she steeled herself.
Words. They are just words. Believe what he shows you, not what he tells you.
“Do you want to know about my family?” he asked. “My parents are deliriously in love after almost forty years together and my grandparents never forgave my dad for marrying someone they didn’t approve of. My sister barely talks to me anymore because my ex is her best friend, and she still hasn’t forgiven me for leaving her. We were only married thirteen months before I left.”
“You’re still married,” Cass whispered, lifting her head to meet his eyes, and his face twisted with guilt.
“I don’t want to be. We didn’t know anything about each other before we … before. We were too young. She had a crush on her best friend’s older brother and I knew she was the type of woman that would make my grandparents happy. I was right. They loved her.
“They were disappointed that I’d majored in film in university but were fine once I was in law. I tried to convince myself that I only did all that because it would make me a better orator if I’d specialized in litigation. Even then, I knew I was kidding myself.”
She couldn’t imagine him doing anything other than what he was doing. She could almost picture him, dead-eyed behind a computer screen, going through the motions of whatever lawyers did, instead of alive and vibrant on set. Full of life and radiating energy, whether he was swearing at himself or agonizing over camera placement. His eyes ablaze when they got the shot exactly right. Like yesterday, when they’d nailed the final scene. Then dragged her away to put his stamp all over her.
And minutes later, meeting his wife. The smile wilted on her face before it bloomed.
She forced her voice to stay level. “Why did you leave? ”
His fingers flexed against the mug, the cords in his neck standing out. “Law is a punishing profession. Self-destruction is the norm. Drinking. Drugs. Half the guys would do lines of coke in the bathroom at lunch. You had to if you wanted to keep up. It wasn’t even a secret. Then I’d get home and drink to shut down. Every morning, I told myself I just needed to get through the next day. Then the next. Every day, I went through the motions.” He took a deep breath. “Then on our first anniversary, she said it was time to have kids.
“Until then, I felt like I could numb myself and push through. But I couldn’t do that. I left and got so drunk that night the bartender had to dig through my pockets to find my business cards and called my firm. The admin assistant had to track down Vivian to pick me up. She thought I was having a last hurrah and celebrating before we started trying for a baby. Really, what I was trying to do was convince myself I could do one more thing that was expected of me.
“I couldn’t tell her what I wanted, or what I didn’t want. She thought she was marrying the fantasy of the best friend’s big brother, and I thought I was fixing my father’s mistake of not marrying a nice girl who didn’t swear at the family dinner table. Then I couldn’t do any of it anymore. I couldn’t stand the thought of taking over my father’s law practice. I couldn’t give Vivian what she wanted. Everything else fell apart around me.”
The damp breeze that flowed over her every time the coffee shop’s door opened left a chill that sunk into her bones. She sloshed the lukewarm contents up the sides of the cup, debating whether to ask another question she didn’t know if she’d believe the answer to. “Why aren’t you divorced yet?”
“She won’t sign. I keep trying to negotiate the terms, but …” he said after a moment, and Cass was even more sure he was feeding her a line.
“You’re a lawyer. Why didn’t you have a prenup?”
“I have asked myself that question a thousand times.” He shrugged unc omfortably. “Her family was adamantly against it. We didn’t have assets yet. I wasn’t thinking.”
The way he’d held her close when Vivian had walked into the room. He wouldn’t let her go. Like he had wanted Vivian to see them embracing. Like it would get him what he’d finally wanted. A horrible thought tried to take root.
“Did you …” She paused to swallow the bile that rose in her throat. “Did you want her to see us together? Did you plan that, so she would finally sign?”
“No! I mean, yes. I didn’t plan anything. I didn’t not want her to see us. I didn’t want her to … fuck.” Josh flexed his hands. “I had no idea she was in town. We’ve had completely separate lives for years. I told her I wanted to move on.”
“And did you ever tell her when you did?”
He shifted in his chair. “It seemed unnecessarily cruel.”
“And this isn’t?” she asked, disbelief gilding her voice.
“Cass …”
“I never asked you for anything. But I expected honesty from you. I thought you were my friend, at least. I thought you cared for me.”
“I do care for you.” He clenched his fist and pressed it into his jaw like he could knock himself out in slow motion.
She held up her hand. All the time they’d been together. All the times he could have said that he felt anything for her. She’d never been anything more than a place to bury his dick while he was in town.
“Baby—”
A sharp stab of laughter sliced her throat. That was it. She was just some nameless hookup he could call baby and let his dimples and charm and sweet words erase all the anguish he put her through. She’d let her idiot heart trick her into thinking this time was different. That he was different.
If it didn’t hurt so much, it would have been funny. Cass tilted her head back and blinked rapidly at the ceiling.
“I’m so stupid,” she said in a hollow voice, her breath scratching her lungs like sandpaper. “I never learn.”
Josh’s brows knit together. “No, Charms.” He reached out for her hands, and she snatched them away to secure them under her crossed arms.
The crazy part was that his story made sense. It fit who he was. The person who she had worked side by side with for months. A laugh escaped her in a surprised titter, and she smiled at him with bright eyes. “I believe you. I have no reason to, but I believe you.”
Josh’s face cleared. “Oh, thank god. Cass?—”
“But it doesn’t matter,” she finished. “You lied to me.”
The words slid between them like a barrier.
“I never lied,” he insisted. “Not to you. Not once.”
“Lied by omission, then.”
“Cass—”
“How dare you?” She felt her eyes brimming and stretched them wide so the tears wouldn’t fall. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Making me hope that you wanted me that way, after everything you watched me go through. You knew I was trying to get over someone who treated me like this. You said you would help me, then you went and did the same thing as the rest of them.”
“I didn’t?—"
“But you did.” She might as well have handed him the rule book for how well he maneuvered her. For the first time, anger flared in her chest.“Are you the final boss? If I can get over the ultimate player, then I finally win the game?”
“No, I—” Josh bit off his words and curled his hands into fists. “I never played you.”
“Could have fooled me. Oh, wait. You did.”
“No, Cass …”
“Looks like I still can’t spot them until it’s too late. Maybe I really did need all thirty dates to learn. I should pick that back up. ”
“Don’t do this,” he whispered.
“Am I allowed to swipe for myself yet, or are you still in charge of my love life?”
His face contorted in anguish as he pressed his lips together. God, even now she wanted to take his face in her hands, to kiss away the pain in his eyes, and she choked back a twinge in her throat.
“No, you’re right.” She pulled her phone out of her purse. “I’ve graduated to doing that for myself. What do you think? I bet I can knock out a few dates this week if I start swiping right now?—”
“I love you.” His hand pinned hers to the table. “I love you.”
The words doused the anger that had flared in her, and she wished she didn’t want to believe another lie. To let the words wrap around her like a caress.
He’s only telling me what I need to hear to get me to stay. No matter how much I want to hear it. She bit down on her bottom lip to stop it from trembling.
“Of course, you’re saying this now,” she said when she hoped her voice would be steady. “How am I supposed to believe you? You’re saying you love me, but you’ve done nothing to show me. You don’t respect me. You’ve hidden yourself completely from me.”
“That’s not what …” he stalled and held her gaze. “I didn’t think this would happen. I didn’t think you would happen. You’re always there. When I wake up. When I close my eyes. You’re all I think about.”
Words. Anyone could say words. Even when the words were perfect.“That’s not enough for me.”
All the months they had been together, getting closer, dancing around the feeling been building between them. Months fooling herself into thinking this was something more than every other pathetic so-called relationship she’d put herself through.
Cass shrugged, and the edges of her vision blurred. “I love you, too. I can’t help it. I don’t even know you and I still love you. But if you really loved me, you wouldn’t be treating me like I’m just another hookup.”
“You’re not. You are everything. All that matters to me.”
“You are married. So many times you could have told me. All that time we were together over Christmas. Everything we talked about and this never came up? Back when those paparazzi photos of me and Dawson were coming out, you said you would tell me things that I should know about. You didn’t think I should know about this?”
“I … tell me what to do. I’ll do it. Anything,” he pleaded. “What do I need to do?”
She dug the heels of her palms into her eye sockets. “I’m not doing that emotional labour for you. You need to figure that out. But right now, being this close to you hurts too much. So please, I’m asking you to leave me alone.”
Cass pushed back from the table with shaking hands and didn’t look back. Everything ached. Exhaustion over having to walk away from yet another man who couldn’t love her how she needed pressed on her lungs. The jagged edges of what remained of her heart scraped inside her breastbone, a thousand cuts carving her from the inside out.
But it hurt less than being lied to.
And one day, it might hurt even less.
And one day, if she was really lucky, she might not feel anything at all.