Chapter 16 Shaw
SHAW
Ihung my head as the water beat over my shoulders. The shower had turned cold, but the longer I stood here, the more I could avoid the day.
This movie shoot, which was supposed to have been long and grueling, was over too fast. The house was packed with my personal things, clothes mostly, and in an hour, I’d pick up Shelly and Cameron from the Evergreen so we could drive to the airport in Bozeman and get on my jet for California.
Today, I’d say goodbye to Presley.
I was fucking sick over it.
We’d gotten up early today out of habit. We didn’t share our mornings together, never had. I’d leave and go for a run while she did yoga in her living room—that was why she was so flexible.
The nights were ours. The mornings had always been colder.
But this morning had been frigid.
Presley hadn’t even looked at me when I’d walked out the door. She hadn’t uttered a word.
We were both miserable.
I dragged a hand over my face, pushing the water off my nose, then I shut off the stream and got out. The pit of dread in my gut was heavy and dark.
Would I find her in tears when I went over to say goodbye? I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle that.
I dried off, wrapped a towel around my waist and shaved. I put all my toiletries in a leather case, then took it into the bedroom and tossed it into my suitcase. I had two others full and waiting by the front door.
This house was going on the market furnished. The furniture was brand new, having been bought specifically for me and this shoot. Juno was already coordinating with the real estate agent who’d sold me this yellow house.
I dressed quickly in a pair of jeans, tennis shoes and shirt. I rolled up the sleeves to my forearms, leaving the tails untucked, then I walked out the door. Every footstep was heavier than the last as I walked to Presley’s and let myself inside.
I found her in the kitchen.
“Hey.” I leaned against the counter, the same one I’d backed her against for our first kiss.
“Hi.” At least she was speaking to me now. She lifted her to-go mug of coffee. “Want some?”
“Nah. Shelly will make us stop on the way out of town.”
“Breakfast?” She took a bite of buttered toast.
“No, thanks.” I shook my head and sighed. “I hate this. If I didn’t have to get back to shoot the rest of the movie on set, I’d stay for a couple more weeks.”
Though maybe that would only make this harder. Every night spent in Presley’s bed made me dread returning to my own.
“Think of how nice it will be to be in your own home,” Presley said, chomping another bite of toast.
She smiled as she chewed, easy and light.
What the fuck?
Was she ready for me to go? Was I the only one hating this day?
I studied her face, looking for any signs of sorrow or pain, but came up empty. Her eyes weren’t red rimmed from crying in the shower. Her skin was smooth, not splotchy. And her blue eyes sparkled like they did every day.
She seemed . . . happy.
What. The. Fuck?
“What are you going to do today?” I asked, hoping she’d answer with something to make me feel better. Stare at your pictures on Google. Call you a million times. Cry in the bathroom at work.
“Today should be busy at the garage. Dash’s brother, Nick, is coming to town. He’s bringing a car for the guys to work on, and usually his visits are a fun time. We’ll probably all go out to dinner or something.”
So she’d go out to dinner with these people, but not me?
My jaw ticked. “Sounds like fun.”
“It is.” She nodded, popping the last bite of toast in her mouth while she put her plate in the dishwasher.
“So, uh . . .” We hadn’t talked about keeping in touch after I left. I’d planned on asking her if she was okay if I texted or called her now and then. Was that why she was acting so normal? Because she knew we’d have more conversations?
“I need to grab my shoes.” She patted me on the stomach as she walked past and out of the kitchen with that smile on her face. That goddamn pleasant smile.
Wait. Why was she getting shoes already? I glanced at the clock. We had thirty minutes before she normally left for work. I had plans for that thirty minutes.
I was going to kiss the hell out of her so that her taste would linger on my lips for the trip home today. I wanted her to feel me for the rest of the day too. To touch her lips and think of me.
My feet pounded on the floor as I marched after her. She was on the edge of her bed in her room, lacing up her black boots. I frowned at her from the doorway, my hands on my hips.
“What?” Her lashes lifted as she kept tying.
“You remember what today is, right?”
“Wednesday.” She finished with her boot and stood.
“I’m leaving today.”
“I know.” Her eyes flicked to the carpet for a moment, her shoulders fell.
There. There she was.
I took a step forward, but when she looked up, whatever glimpse of sadness I thought I’d seen was gone.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Me? I blinked. “Are you?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “I’m okay.”
Well, I wasn’t. Not at all.
She flashed me that smile again as she slipped past me through the door.
I was left standing like a damn fool.
Maybe she didn’t like it, but Presley wasn’t torn up over me leaving. I was a fool over a woman who maybe didn’t care about me as much as I cared about her.
Every one of our moments together played through my head. The nights in bed when we’d laughed and talked about nothing. The day last week when I’d shown up at her door, still in makeup from the shoot. I’d been in such a hurry to see her I hadn’t washed it off after Cam had called cut.
Presley had dragged a finger through the flesh-colored cream, cringed, then giggled. She’d grabbed my hand and pulled me to the bathroom, where she’d wiped my face clean with a warm washcloth.
There were countless moments like that one. More than I ever would have thought could fit into a month.
We’d had fun, every single night. Hell, it had even been fun when her asshole of an ex had shown up at her door.
I’d been so proud of her, slamming him out. And she’d been so proud too. Proud in a way that I’d wondered if that was the first time she’d ever stood up for herself. Maybe it had been.
But how was I supposed to know? I’d talked. She’d listened.
Had I read this whole relationship wrong? Here I’d been, pouring my heart out to this woman, and she’d kept me at bay. I’d thought this was something . . . I didn’t have a word for it. Special? Different? But was she really in this for the hookup?
Was I just the movie star rebound she was using to get over the ex?
Fuck.
“I’m a fucking schmuck,” I muttered, needing to get the hell out of this house and away from the vanilla scent that hung in the bedroom from her lotion.
Presley was in the kitchen, drinking her coffee and digging her sunglasses out of her purse. She might be okay waving goodbye with a smile, but that was not how I wanted this to end.
I marched into her space and took the coffee tumbler from her hand.
“Shaw—”
My lips crushed hers and she melted into me. A sigh washed over us both. This was my Presley.
Her hands came between us, fisting in my shirt so tight, there’d be creases when she let go. Her tongue slid into mine, stroking and savoring. My hands slid up and down her body, memorizing every curve and line.
I wasn’t sure how long we kissed, but she was the one to break off. She shivered, then released her hands.
I dropped my forehead to hers. “Thank you.”
“For a kiss?”
“For all the kisses.”
She took a step away, refusing eye contact. She took a long breath and grabbed her coffee mug, and when she met my gaze, my Presley was gone. She’d softened for a minute, but now she was back to the stranger inhabiting my favorite body on earth.
Presley squeezed my arm, a gesture that burned friend zone. “Best of luck with the movie.”
Fuck this shit. “Uh-huh.”
I was tempted to kiss her again, to smash through the wall she’d erected since last night, but she was already on her way to the door.
I followed her to the entryway, taking a last look around the house. I wouldn’t be here again, not after today’s goodbye.
“What time does your plane leave?” she asked from the doorway, sliding on her sunglasses and hiding those beautiful eyes.
“We’re hoping to take off at noon.”
“You’re packed?” She let me out, then closed the door behind us.
“Yeah,” I muttered as frustration raced through my veins.
“And the bike?” she asked as we walked down the steps.
I looked across my yard to where my bike was parked in front of the SUV. “There’s a crew coming over later today to put it in a crate, then ship it to me.”
“Then I guess this is it.” She walked to her car door and for a second, I thought she might just get in and drive off, but she opened the door, set her purse and coffee inside, then walked over to me and stood on her tiptoes to brush a kiss across my cheek. “This was great.”
Great?
Not exactly the word I would have used to describe my time with her. Maybe it was one of them, but to sum it up with a generic, five-letter word seemed . . . cheap. Before this morning, I would have thought a four-letter word was closer to what Presley and I had shared.
She smiled up at me, her gaze hidden behind her sunglasses, and I saw my own reflection in the lenses.
Did she see the utter disappointment on my face? Could she see how badly I wanted this to be different? Was a fucking tear too much to ask for?
Her hand came to my jaw, her fingers soft against my cheek. “Take care of yourself.”
“Same to you.” I brushed my knuckles down the line of her jaw.
Presley took her hand away and stepped back. “Goodbye, Shaw.”
My heart clenched. “Goodbye, Presley.”
My goodbyes to her had always been laced with the promise I’d see her again. From the first time I’d gone to the garage and every goodbye since. Goodbye had never meant goodbye, not for her.
But this . . . there was no undertone. No subtle threat I could return.
This was goodbye.