CHAPTER 19 ALEXIS
We move onto simpler topics for a while as we finish eating, but once we’re done and I’m so full I could burst, we stay right where we are and continue talking as if we’ve known each other forever.
He’s just…so easy to talk to. So easy on the eyes. Everything about being around him is easy.
Nothing about my life is ever easy.
I feel myself getting more and more invested. Falling just a little more with each passing moment.
And then he turns the conversation deep again, and the ability to move from generic to deep on a dime has my head spinning.
“So I admitted something too deep for brunch to you,” he says. “Your turn. I believe you were about to tell me all the things I can introduce to your world. Or, you know, things you’ve never experienced.”
I laugh, but the truth is, I feel like I’m half here and half still stuck in that kiss. It was unexpected, and it was hot and sexy, and I wanted it to lead to more…but he slowed it down.
Why did he slow it down?
And will that question be on my mind until…November?
I should ask. I won’t, but I should. If nothing else, to ease my mind.
“I’ve never been able to use my platform in the way I want to,” I admit instead.
His brows dip. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…my father constantly reminds me how I’m a role model to little girls.
He constantly reminds me how I’m an influencer with a lot of sway.
And so I have to be incredibly careful about what I say, what I post, what I do.
I don’t get to be an activist for the things that are important to me.
I have to be an activist for the things my father approves. ”
“That’s tough,” he says. “What types of things do you want to be a voice of?”
I shrug as it suddenly feels very personal.
I want to advocate for mental health. I’ve been able to manage my anxiety, but not everyone has the resources I do. But my father won’t allow me to talk publicly about it because he feels the issues are too sensitive and too divisive.
And I’m not sure I’m ready to tell him all that.
“Women’s rights. Human rights. Mental health.
” I slip it in at the end and lift a shoulder.
“They’re all off limits. So instead, I advocate for recycling, disaster relief, and education, which always feels a little hypocritical since I didn’t get a normal high school experience.
But I did finish, and I also got my college degree. ”
“In what?” he asks.
“Drama. Do you have one?”
He nods. “I have a business degree. I was in the minors waiting to get called up when I finished it.”
“What do you want to do with it?” I ask.
He shrugs. “The only thing I ever wanted to do was play baseball. But my mom stressed the importance of having a back-up plan. She was a fourth-grade teacher for many years, and she made me go to college. Or I wanted to get the degree to make her happy, anyway. And truthfully, I’ve never regretted having it.
I’m sure I’ll put it to use someday once I’m no longer playing. ”
“Have you thought about what comes after the game?” I ask.
“Have you thought about what comes after you’re done singing?” he shoots back.
I laugh. “I’ll always sing, but the plan my dad and I came up with is acting. I’m going to be like Betty White or Angela Lansbury or Cloris Leachman and just act until I’m dead.”
He wrinkles his nose a little. “Really? You don’t ever imagine retirement?”
“I’m an achiever.” I shrug. “I can’t imagine ever completely hanging it up. I’m sure I’ll have the option to get choosier with my roles, especially after I win an Academy Award, but—”
“An Academy Award?” he interrupts.
There go my cheeks getting all hot again.
“I have this goal,” I admit. My eyes move to his.
“A Grammy and an Oscar in the same year. The movie I’m set to film when I get back from tour will likely release by the end of next year.
I’ll record my next album shortly after filming, and then I’ll cross my fingers and pray that I did enough to snag each award. ”
His brows shoot up. “If anyone can do it, it’s Alexis Bodega.”
I nod my head firmly.
“But what happens then? When you’re at the peak of your career in both fields…what comes next?”
My eyes light up with excitement. “The offers start to pour in. I get my pick of leading roles. I can still record between those roles, maybe do shorter tours if they fit in.”
“But if you reach that top goal, how do you aim higher?” he presses.
It’s a valid question…and one that plays in the back of my mind regularly.
Even if I hit this goal that’s been a few years in the making, which is still a long shot but more possible than it’s ever been before…then what?
Will it give me personal happiness and fulfillment?
It’ll feel good for a night, or a week, or even a month. But then things will wind down, and life will get back to normal. I’ll have the titles that nobody can ever strip from me, but when you’re at the top…there’s only one way to go.
I’m not even entirely sure it’s what I actually want out of life or if it’s my father’s plan for me. I’m not sure where his plans end and my dreams begin anymore.
And to answer my previous question, I’m not entirely sure any of these plans will give me the sort of happiness I’m searching for.
But as my eyes meet his across the table while all this darts through my mind, I can’t help but think I’ve found the man that will.
My phone chimes with the sound I set to Gregory’s text messages, which tells me we don’t have much time left. I check his text.
Gregory: At back exit when you’re ready. Raymond is asking where you are.
I glare at my phone.
“Who’s that?” Danny asks.
I slide the phone over to him to show him the text.
“Raymond?” he asks.
“My father.”
“Ah. Sounds like you’re going to have some explaining to do.”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t know the half of it. I had to sneak out to escape the castle walls without being detected.”
“Sounds like he runs a tight ship over there.”
“He does. I know it’s for my protection, but sometimes I just feel like…” I trail off.
“Rapunzel?” he suggests.
My brows dip.
He shrugs. “She was locked up in a tower by an evil witch. You’re locked in your mansion under your father’s thumb. Both princesses, though slightly different context. Both beautiful women. Lots of similarities, you know.”
My jaw slackens a little.
“What?” he asks a little defensively. “I watched Tangled with my nephews a couple years ago. Great movie, by the way. Your hair isn’t blonde, but it is long and gorgeous, and your prince is sitting right in front of you ready to save you.”
“Doesn’t she hit said prince with a frying pan?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.
He chuckles. “At first, yes. Twice, I believe. But then she falls for him.”
“Well, as interesting as these comparisons are, this isn’t some fairy tale. It’s my life, and I’ve got to get back to it before my dad starts texting me. That’s when the real trouble starts.” I stand and blow out a breath.
“What are you going to tell him?” he asks as he stands, too.
“That a friend was in town and we met for brunch.” I shrug. I don’t really have friends, so I’ll make something up on the way back. Maybe Gregory will help me, though he usually stays out of things, and he isn’t an advocate of me lying to my father.
“Is that all I am?” he asks, his voice going all low and raspy again in that way that speaks directly to my vagina. “A friend?”
I take a few steps closer to him until he draws me in and wraps his arms around me. I stare up into his eyes, and they’re so clear and blue as they search mine.
“I can’t define this yet. You’re more than a friend, but not quite a friend yet, and I don’t have a word for that. But in November, maybe we’ll find the word.”
“God, I hope so,” he says, and he drops his lips to mine.
It’s not as intense as the kiss on the chair was before. This one is sexy and sweet all rolled into one.
My phone chimes again, and it’s my signal. I pull away. “I’m so sorry. I have to go.”
“Ugh!” he groans again, making that same sound of frustration as before, and I move back toward him to hug him some more.
There’s something so warm and comforting here in his arms—something I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before—and it’s downright addictive. I’m not ready to let him go just yet even though I need to get home and back to the real life and responsibilities I signed up for long ago.
“I feel the same way,” I say into his chest. “I’ll miss you.”
“Any chance I can see you again before you go on tour?” he asks.
“I leave in six days, and unless you’ll be here in Los Angeles, probably not. I’ve got too much going on here and there’s no way my dad would let me travel this close to tour.”
“Fuck,” he mutters with disappointment. “I have six games in a row at home before I have another day off.”
“Good luck,” I say lightly. “Go kill ‘em all this season and we’ll keep in touch, okay?”
“This feels like goodbye, Lex.” His voice is so sad that I clutch him more tightly as I lean into him. It feels like goodbye to me, too—because it is. We can make promises that we’ll stay in touch or whatever, but I just told him to do what he needs to do until we can be together.
I gave him permission to sleep around because I can’t hold him back when I can’t make promises.
Who knows what that’ll mean in six months? Who knows what might change over time?
“It’s not goodbye. It’s see ya later,” I say softly, and he squeezes me so tightly that it nearly knocks the wind out of me.
I never want him to let me go.
“I’ll watch all your games,” I say.
“I’ll listen to your voice every day.”
My chest aches at his words. I memorize everything about this feeling because I know I’ll need to hold onto it for the next six months.
I kiss him once more, and then I turn to leave so I can head home to face my father.