Chapter 11 Tessa
Tessa
Sitting in my trailer, I opened my phone, eyes scanning over the messages I’d missed. I popped a piece of popcorn into my mouth, heart aching as I saw who hadn’t texted me.
When I’d gotten on a plane and left Portland two months ago, I’d been breaking my own heart. Two weeks. It had only been two weeks.
And yet, I’d known how I felt about him. Maybe it was because we’d known each other for over two years. Maybe it was something more. But I’d known there could be nothing other than going all in with this man.
But we texted. Every single day, without fail, we texted.
I didn’t know why. We hadn’t made any promises. In fact, the exact opposite. I’d been the one to push him away.
But when I’d gotten home to my quiet, empty apartment, I’d known what was missing. Oliver.
“Maybe I should get a dog,” I muttered out loud. But I knew that wasn’t it, either. I couldn’t replace how I was feeling with a pet. Even if I missed our daily walks with Snowball.
But today, not a single peep. There was no, Hey, Hollywood. No photo from something in Portland that he’d seen that reminded him of me. Nothing.
Biting my lip, I looked over our last conversation. And then my fingers drifted over the letters, typing a message before I’d even thought through the words.
Tessa
I miss you.
His response came a moment later.
Oliver
I miss you too.
How’s life on set?
Fine.
Just fine?
Yeah. I mean, everything’s great. I love the cast and crew, and the project is amazing. I’m just…
Yeah. I know.
I was sad. I loved the cast, loved the project, but I was miserable.
That was the problem, wasn’t it? That he was there and I was here, and there was nothing we could do about that. He had his job, and I had mine. When filming was done, I could visit.
But we both knew that would only be delaying the inevitable.
Why didn’t he ask me to stay? The thought ripped through me before I could stop it.
Because he knew me. Because in the last two years, he’d done nothing but encourage me in my career.
So why didn’t I ask him to come with me?
Sighing, I hung my head in my hands. It was too late. We’d missed our chance.
That was what I tried to tell myself as I headed home. As I opened the door to my apartment. Even full of color, it felt cold and empty.
It wasn’t full of warmth, laughter, and love.
God, I missed Portland. I missed my brother and Noelle.
I missed the hipster coffee shops on every block.
I missed the trees and the mountain air and I even missed the stupid pumpkin we’d carved together, that was probably rotted away in a dumpster by now.
I missed him.
Dropping my stuff on the island, I collapsed onto the couch, feeling the exhaustion down to my bones. Maybe I needed a tropical vacation once this was all over. Some sun, a fruity beverage in a pineapple in hand, and I’d be right as rain.
Someone knocked on my apartment door, and I frowned.
I hadn’t ordered any food, nor were there any packages I was expecting.
Maybe it was just a nosy neighbor trying to poke their nose into my business.
That was happening a lot more now that billboards were popping up around town with my face on it.
Sighing, I stood and walked to the door, rubbing my neck in the process.
But when I opened the door, it wasn’t a neighbor standing on my front step.
I blinked a few times, trying to verify that it was, in fact, the ginger-haired man whose face I had seen every night in my dreams. The one who whispered sweet nothings into my ear as I fell asleep each night. The one I wanted so terribly.
“Oliver?” I said, though my word came out as more of a gasp. “What are you doing here?”
He pulled me into his arms. “I just kept thinking, what are we doing, Tess? Both missing each other so damn much it hurts.”
“But you live in Portland, and I live here.” My eyes filled with tears. Tears I hadn’t shed before, because I hadn’t let myself. Burying my face into his shirt so he wouldn’t see me cry, I murmured, “And we both know long distance would suck.”
“That’s the thing.” His finger hooked under my chin, guiding my eyes up to his. And then Oliver grinned. “I don’t.”
“You don’t what?” Confused, I pulled back. He didn’t think long distance would suck?
He shook his head. “Live in Portland.”
I was so confused. “What?”
“I don’t live in Portland.” My beautiful ginger man shrugged. “Figured that with my job, I could work from anywhere. Asked my boss for permission to go one hundred percent remote. Packed up my place. Broke my lease.”
“You did.” My brain couldn’t wrap itself around the words. He didn’t live in Portland anymore?
“Uh-huh. Sorry it took me longer than I expected. I might need some help finding a place to live, though. Do you know anyone with an empty bedroom?” He curled his hand around my jaw before running his fingers through my hair.
“Oliver.” It was finally sinking in. “Are you… moving here?”
“Yes, baby. I’m glad you finally figured that out.”
“Oh my god.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I can’t believe this.”
“The rest of my stuff is arriving this weekend,” he said against my hair. “I could find my own place, but…”
“Stay here,” I said, practically begging. “Live with me.” I didn’t want to be apart from him for one single moment.
“Are you sure? I know it’s fast.” He was still playing with my hair. The man was obsessed with it.
Was it? Because two years ago, I’d seen him for the first time, and my heart had known. Maybe this was all inevitable. Perhaps we were always going to end up here.
Maybe this was our fate all along.
“It’s not.” I shook my head. “I want our two weeks back. I want them to be forever.”
“Good.” A grin lit up his gorgeous freckled face. “Because I love you, and I can’t imagine another night where you’re not in my arms.”
Now I was really going to cry. “Oliver—”
“You’re my everything, Hollywood. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to be by your side.
Even if that means leaving everything I’ve ever known.
I want to hold your hand on our daily walks.
Cuddle with you on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and watch all your favorite movies.
I want to get a dog of our own because I miss Snowball so much, it should be illegal. ”
I sniffled. “I want a dog too.” And some day, a family of our own.
“Good. Baby, I want to love you the way you deserve. But I don’t want to get in the way of your career.
You’re a star, Tessa Harper, and I want to bask in your light.
To watch you shine on stage, to support you every step of the way.
I could never ask you to give that up. All I can ask is that you be by my side. I’m yours if you’ll have me.”
“Yes,” I agreed, nodding furiously. “Yes. That’s what I want too.
” I wrapped my arms around his waist. “Because I love you, Oliver Graham. I love your freckles. The way your eyes light up when you work through a problem in your programming. I love how you’re the best man I’ve ever met.
The only one I’ve ever wanted so bad, it felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest when I had to leave you.
So yes, I want you here. And I never want you to leave. If you’re mine, I’m yours.”
“Thank fuck,” he said, hauling me into his arms and taking my mouth with his. After that, there were no words. He stripped me bare as we lost ourselves in the kiss, sliding home before carrying me into my bedroom—soon to be our bedroom—and making me see stars.
“What are you wearing?” I asked, looking up from the scripts I was reading. We’d been living together for a month, and I loved it. Especially considering I came home to him from work every day.
He looked down. “Uh. Sweatpants?” They were gray and every girl’s catnip. Most importantly, they were mine. Oliver in sweats was a wet dream. His white t-shirt clung to his muscles, and I could tell he’d just finished working out at the gym inside my apartment.
“Please tell me you don’t wear those out of the house,” I said, setting my stuff down on the side table.
He frowned, looking down at them. “Do they look bad?”
No—that was the problem. They looked too good. I shook my head, laughing. “Babe, you can see the entire outline of your dick.”
Oliver’s neck and cheeks turned red. “You—” He looked down. “Is this why Noelle and the girls are always going on about sweatpants?”
Giggling, I nodded, standing in front of him. “Yeah.” I cupped his cock. “And this is for my eyes only, babe.”
He groaned. “Tessa.”
I slid to my knees in front of him, well aware of what I was and wasn’t wearing underneath my dress.
“You’re going to kill me,” he groaned as I pulled the sweats down, freeing his gorgeous cock.
It was unfair, really, that it was this perfect.
I ran my tongue over the tip, feeling him hardening in my hand.
Running my hand up and down his shaft, I lavished his head with attention, licking him fully, before finally sucking the tip into my mouth.
“Fuck,” he grunted as I sucked, taking him deeper. “Baby. That’s too good. You gotta stop.”
I hummed, taking him in until he hit the back of my throat. Breathing through my nose, I started a rhythm, sliding up and down until—
Oliver pulled my head back, lifting me up and smashing his mouth to mine and kissing me roughly. Every time his tongue brushed over mine, I felt like stars were going to explode.
“You’re so fucking incredible,” he groaned. “But I don’t want to come down your throat.”
I batted my eyelashes. “No?”
He picked me up, setting me on the kitchen counter and pushed my dress up to my waist. “Fuck,” he groaned as he saw what was underneath. “No panties?”
Starting to shake my head no, I lost my entire train of thought as he slid two fingers inside of me.
“Fucking soaked and so needy for me, huh?”
I whimpered as he crooked his fingers inside of me, pumping them in until I was right there.
“Don’t worry, honey,” he muttered, tugging at my ear with his teeth. “I’ll take care of you.”
I knew he would. He’d promised me that from the beginning, and so far, he’d always delivered.
Pulling his fingers out of me, Oliver fisted his cock, rubbing my arousal and his pre-cum down his length, before positioning the tip at my entrance and pushing in easily.
“So good,” I moaned. He was so big, and even though we’d done this more times than I could count, I still couldn’t get over the fullness I felt when he was inside of me, fucking me with everything he had.
“I love you,” he said, pressing kisses down my neck.
My moans grew louder as his pace increased. “I love you,” I cried as my orgasm hit me.
There was happy, and then there was this.
Bliss, I liked to call it.
Whatever it was, when my boyfriend pulled out of me, letting his cum trickle down my thighs, and then picked me up and carried me into the bathroom to clean me up, I never wanted it to end.
Because he was everything I’d ever wanted and didn’t know how to ask for.
He was my happy ending.
And damn if I wouldn’t fight for it every day for the rest of our lives.