Without Chase (5 page)

“Well, these cheerleader ones are good and Zoe was the fucking best” he said, as the movie character Zoe appeared on the screen in her trademark ponytail and cheerleader. The story was of virginal Zoe and her perfect football quarterback boyfriend Kyle. But Zoe was actually carrying on a torrid affair with Kyle’s just-released-from-prison older brother Mike. Of course, there was the requisite devoted but bookish friend of Zoe’s who was secretly in love with Kyle, and who he really should have been with. But it was the scenes between Zoe and Mike, secretly and lustfully hooking up wherever they could that made the movie such a hit with guys his age. After the first half of the movie, Amy kissed him on the lips and said she had to make a quick a phone call. A few minutes later when she came back, Chase’s jaw dropped. Standing in front of him, in full costume was “Zoe”.

He threw his head back and whooped. “Holy shit!” Being an athlete definitely had it’s privileges.

Amy stood in front of him. Chase ran a hand up her legs and underneath her cheerleader skirt. He wasn’t surprised to find that she was wearing nothing underneath. They locked eyes as he began to rub her gently, feeling her slow excitement. He pulled her a little closer until she stood over him. He lifted her skirt and raised her higher so he could place his mouth on her sex. At the first flick of his tongue, Amy inhaled sharply, then relaxed into him, putting her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. When her breathing became faster and shallower, he lay her down on the sofa and took his clothes off. “You aren’t good enough to have me,” she purred. Chase recognized the line from the movie, and he realized that she was going to stay as Zoe. Suddenly, the fantasies he had had about this character came flooding back to him. He grinned. There was one scene where Zoe and Mike sneaked off to have sex in the school parking lot during halftime, while the clueless Kyle was in the locker room with his team getting a talking-to by his coach. “I want to fuck you like we’re in the back of a car,” he said, stripping his clothes off in a hurry. Amy nodded knowingly and expertly moved towards the edge of the couch, her head hitting the armrest as if she were laying cramped in a backseat.

Chase needed nothing more. He lay on top of her, kissing her hungrily, his eyes shut tight, fantasy turning into reality. She reached down and began stroking him, causing him to grow even harder before she led him inside her wetness. “Take me, Mike,” she moaned. Chase lost himself and he began moving with her, his movements overeager and rough. He felt as if he had stepped into the porno version of one of his favorite movies. When Amy folded her knees up just as she had in the movie, the image and feeling of actually doing to her what was only implied on the screen was too much for him. Chase let out a deep groan of pleasure before collapsing into a satisfied heap on top of her.

“That was… fucking…
wild
,” he mustered when his head cleared. Amy turned towards him, a complacent smile on her face. “Glad you liked my performance.”

Chase wasn’t inexperienced enough to be manipulated into being with someone just because of sex, but after that night, he accepted that they were a couple. The tabloids referred to him as Amy’s “boy toy” and painted a picture of their relationship that barely resembled the reality. Their age difference made hanging out a struggle, no matter how hard Amy denied it. As far as he could figure out, she liked dinner parties, furniture shopping and attending black tie events. He still liked clubbing, playing video games and watching sports. About the only thing they had in common was that they both liked working out, so if a week had gone by without them going to an event together, Chase was fine with going to the gym, or being photographed jogging in the park together.

And, there was no doubt about it, being with her had its perks. There was the obvious; like seeing himself move from just one more athlete caught doing something illegal, to turning into a celebrity, his scandal erased from memory. Then there was the sex. Amy had a knack for knowing exactly what his fantasies were. He thought he had checked off the two-women thing back in college, but just having two women in bed at once was not the same thing that he experienced with Amy and another actress friend of hers. This twosome was a mind-blowing, writhing, marathon event that was better than anything he could have imagined. He hated to admit it, but she was introducing him to experiences and sensations that he didn’t even know existed.

Chase didn’t do drugs, but he was beginning to understand how people could become addicted to the lifestyle. He himself was starting to feel as if he were sinking into this soft world where everything felt good, but it made him feel dull and slow. He knew if he were to give into that feeling, it would be like drowning, and he would lose that edge that had driven him for so long. He could see what lay ahead because he saw what happened to players who lost their focus. After the year’s suspension was up, he wouldn’t be the same player he had been.

As nice as this life was, Chase knew it wasn’t the life he wanted. He didn’t want to be a celebrity, he wanted to play basketball. And he wanted to be with his girl. What he wanted was the life he had before. He thought that enough time had passed. Jamie probably wasn’t ready to trust him yet, but maybe he could start by rebuilding his basketball career, and prove to her that he wasn’t what the press made him out to be.

Chapter Eight

Jamie

Two days after the barbeque, Jamie was at the airport waiting for the flight that would take her to a photo shoot in Bali when Adam called. He thanked her for inviting him, but said nothing about any future plans.

She was glad she was on the same flight as Seymour Brooks. Brooks was the personal assistant to uber-designer Merlin Nast, and they became fast friends the first time she walked the runway for Merlin. Now, as one of Merlin’s favorite “girls” she had been chosen to be a part of his ad campaign for his Spring collection. Which meant that she and Brooks were going to spend the next week together in Bali shooting the ad. Jamie was brooding when he nudged her from across the aisle.

“Maybe you should sleep. It will make the flight go by faster.”

Jamie looked at him sheepishly. “This is me trying to sleep.”

“Seriously? Do you have ADD or something?” He threw his hands up. “I mean, it’s totally cool if you do---I’m just curious because you’re fidgeting like a five year old right now.”

“I’ve got boy problems, Brooks.”

Brooks shook his head. “Oy. Why is it that you models have thousands of men who would do anything to go out with you---but every single one of you has to pick the one guy who’ll make you cry?”

“OK, here’s a good one.” She leaned across the aisle. “What would you say if I told you that I’m having problems with the one who’s supposed to get me over the one who made me cry?”

“I’d say you’re an overachiever.”

Brooks’ seatmate, Trista, the lighting technician, nearly spit up her drink laughing out loud. “Sorry,” she said, making a big display of turning back to her tablet. “I’m going to stop eavesdropping now.”

Brooks handed Trista his napkin. “No, no, don’t pretend, now. We’re in this tin can for the next ten hours, we may as well get friendly.” He turned to Jamie. “Right? I mean, you’ve spent the past two hours bouncing off the walls. Now you can tell us all.”

Maybe it had to do with undressing in front of a room full of people, or the fact that she had read so much about her personal life online already, but Jamie had no qualms about sharing her story.

“OK, so I finally decided to start seeing people again,” she began. “And this guy; a family friend, came over to me and my brother’s house to hang out a couple of days ago. I thought we clicked, but he… he didn’t make plans with me for when I got back from this trip.” She looked at Brooks and Trista expectantly. They stared blankly at her.

After a pause, Brooks asked, “and the rest of the story is…?”

“That’s it.”

Brooks opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Trista put a hand on his arm to silence him. “So, sweetie,” she turned to Jamie. “Does it always go that way for you---you chill with some dude, and then snap, you two are together?”

Jamie was quiet, considering. “I guess so. I’ve really only had one boyfriend, except for one guy when we were broken up---”

“That’s an understatement,” Brooks interrupted her. She knew he was talking about her much publicized fling with Sean Foley, the rock star.

“---and back in high school---”

“Oh my god, please don’t talk about high school,” Trista spat out. “I’m fucking thirty five years old, I can’t have you talking about high school.”

“Sorry.”

In a nicer tone, Trista said, “you go out with a pro basketball player and a rock star---I guess you like those bad boys, huh?”

Jamie shook her head. “But that’s just it! I was with Chase like that,” she snapped her fingers--”and Sean Foley wanted to get serious the first time we went out.”

Brooks and Trista rolled their eyes at each other and Trista said, “Beautiful girl problems.” Then she turned back to Jamie and asked, “so what’s the story with this new guy? You’re feelin’ him?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Jamie remembered how she liked Chase for a while before she found out that he felt the same way about her. But she didn’t really know him, so it was more of an infatuation. Then, when they did spend time together, they pretty much fell in love right away. It had been easy.

What she felt for Adam was different, though. It wasn’t infatuation, and it certainly wasn’t love. But it was something that made her wish he had called her earlier, and happy when he asked if she wanted to meet up in New York.

“Is he a basketball player too?” Brooks’ questioned interrupted her thoughts.

“Adam? Oh god, no.” Jamie was surprised at the tone in her voice, and even Trista picked up on it.

“Uh-oh. Sounds like girlfriend has some hate for the ballers.” Brooks waved a finger in her face. “Don’t do that, baby girl. You know I love Chase.” Jamie smiled. Brooks had visited her a few times in LA and she and Chase went to a few West Hollywood parties with him.

Trista said, “you’re mad at your ex, so maybe this is a rebound thing?”

Jamie considered. “Yeah, maybe. But you know, with Chase and Sean, there was always this… thing… that they were so different. With Adam, I just feel like I’ve known him all my life; like, ‘oh, I totally get this guy’.”

“What does he do?” Brooks asked.

“Well, he just got his law degree and now he’s working at a production company.”

“Ohh, so he wants to be a movie exec.” Trista said, impressed. “Very nice. I assume his law degree comes from an Ivy League school and not from some state school?”

Brooks clicked his tongue in faux disgust. “Trista, you’re a fucking elitist. I got my degree from a state school.”

“And I got mine from a small college no one’s heard of,” Trista shrugged. “I’m just trying to see if this guys the real deal, or if he’s one more bullshit artist clogging up the 405.”

They both turned to Jamie for the answer. “I’d say so, yes.” She paused, then, “He’s definitely the real deal.”

“Is he hot?”

Jamie thought about Adam’s workout-perfect build, his chiseled profile. She blushed. “Like a movie star.”

“OK, then.” Trista leaned over Brooks to talk to Jamie. “It’s real simple. Not everyone is going to fall in love with you, sweetie. Especially some hot guy with a law degree who just hit town. Welcome to dating in L.A.”

Even though it didn’t make her feel any better about him not making plans, just talking it out helped Jamie. It also made her realize that for the first time in months, she had stopped thinking about Chase.

When she came back, Adam seemed disappointed that she was only going to be in LA for a little while before going back to New York. Then he suddenly remembered that he had a reason to be in New York too.

He told her he was going to fly in on Wednesday for a meeting with his mother’s attorney.
“Nothing bad,” he assured her. “It’s just that with my mom’s job and everything, they want to look over my employment contract to make sure there are no items that can be a problem.” His real reason to go back East, though, was to ‘take care of some things’ in DC. Adam was vague about this, except to ask her if she wanted to go with him. Trying to keep her voice neutral, Jamie agreed. She would fly to DC after she finished a job and spend the weekend with him.

On Friday, during her last fitting, Jamie found herself impatiently willing the photographer’s assistant, Rafi, to hurry up. “Did you just drink a lot of coffee?” he asked as Jamie ran into the dressing room to try on the umpteenth outfit that day.

She poked her head through the flimsy curtain separating them. “Why? What am I doing?” she asked innocently.

“Umm, you’re, liked, amped! I’d ask if you were on blow, but I know that’s not your thing.” He gestured for her to come towards him and Jamie stepped into the five-inch shoes a kneeling Rafi was ready to strap her into.

Another model, Irina, was nearby getting her makeup done and perked up at their conversation. She waved to get their attention. “Do you guys have some for me?”

Without looking up, Rafi answered loudly, “No, Irina. No one’s got any blow for you.” At this, a disappointed Irina went back to playing a game on her phone. Then he whispered under his breath, “no one’s got shit for you, you coke whore.”

Rafi looked up at Jamie and shook his head. “Sad.” He proclaimed. “She has the kind of body that will gain weight if you so much as walk past her with a pastry, so she’s on,
ahem
, appetite suppressants. But they’re affecting her ability to work.” He finished with the shoes and stood up. “She’ll be out of the business because of her weight or her drugs within the year.”

Later, in the car from the airport, she found herself recounting the story to Adam. “I can’t believe what some girls will do to lose weight… but anyway, that’s not why I thought I would miss my flight. It’s just that fashion people are visual perfectionists, you know? They’re terrible about being on time, or details like giving you the right address, but if something in a shot is even so much as a millimeter off, we have to do it over again.” She stopped and looked over to see Adam smiling at her. “Am I rambling?” she asked worriedly.

“No.” He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “I’m glad you didn’t miss your flight. I mean, I would have waited until you got the next one, but… it’s good you’re here.” This was the first time they had done anything beyond the friendly hug hello and goodbye from the barbeque. He had finally told her why he was in DC---to pack up some of his things for his move to LA.

“Well, thanks for inviting me.” Jamie saw a boat on the river next to them, the rowers keeping pace with the traffic locked cars. She watched the rowers, their college logo stamped on their shirts and wished she could go back to the days when Friday nights meant hanging out with Chase in her dorm room.

Adam followed her gaze. “Do you miss school?” he asked.

“Yes.” It was true, but only half of what she was missing.

Jamie shook herself back to reality, and scrambled to hide her thoughts. “Sometimes. I mean, everyone in my family graduated from college. I feel like I went backwards.” This was true enough.

They approached his house, a narrow, historic townhome in Georgetown. “This is beautiful Adam,” Jamie said, impressed. “How old are you again?”

“I’m actually a middle aged man going through a mid life crisis,” he winked, and took her hand. “Still interested?”

They walked in and Jamie couldn’t help but gasp at the interior. She had been inside bigger, or more expensive, or more lavishly decorated homes, but Adam’s house was breathtaking in its authenticity. The dark wood paneling, the rich green of the study; even the framed display of a battered and clearly antique American flag was on pitch.

“Is this… is this yours? I mean, do you own it?” Jamie knew her mother would die at her asking such a vulgar question, but she couldn’t help it.

“It’s all mine. Believe it or not, this is what I bought with the money I inherited from my grandparents.” Jamie knew the Bixby family was one of the oldest and richest families in North Carolina. “It’s going to sound strange, but the first time my mom won her Senate seat, we came up to Georgetown to go sightseeing, and I just knew I wanted one of these houses.” He smiled at the memory. “God, I must have still been in high school. Then a few years later, I was visiting my mom, and walked around this area like I usually did, and I saw a moving van pulled up front. I was lucky. The real estate market was tanking, and the house was in pretty bad shape. I had just come into my inheritance a year or two earlier, so I bought it, and I’ve been working on it ever since.” He looked up, taking it all in through Jamie’s eyes. “I think my parents were actually impressed. It was better than squandering my inheritance, which is what my older brothers were convinced I was going to do.”

“I really…I really like it.” Jamie couldn’t explain why, but she did. There was that feeling again---as if being with Adam was like coming to a place so familiar to her. Just like his house. She scolded herself for the thought. This is too soon, a voice warned. Too soon for you to think like this.

Adam took a step and stood close to her. “Can I kiss you now?” he asked almost formally. At Jamie’s nod, he leaned in and they kissed. It was over with quickly, and as Jamie blinked in surprise, she heard Adam say, “there. No more tension, right?” he asked.

“Right.” Jamie agreed. They had crossed the line from being platonic friends to… whatever it was that came after, and now every accidental touch wasn’t so loaded. As if reading her mind, Adam threw an arm around her waist and kissed her again. “Come on, I’ll show you to your bedroom.”

The top floor of the townhouse had the master suite and an adjacent guest bedroom that was twice the size of Jamie’s studio apartment. She laughed. “I think I’ll be very comfortable here.” Jamie was also glad Adam didn’t assume or take anything for granted.

“Are you tired?” he asked. “Because we can go out, or get some take out, or I can cook. Your choice.”

“Let’s both cook. I bet you have an amazing kitchen.” They went down two flights of stairs to the main living area---the kitchen on one side, the family room on the other. Adam had already gone shopping before she came, so they had plenty of food to choose from.

They cooked side by side, the conversation easy and natural between the two of them. When dinner was ready, they decided against sitting in the formal dining room, and opted to sit on the bar stools in the kitchen counter, knees touching, discovering everything they had in common.

When they finished with dinner, they took a walk to M Street, Georgetown’s commercial area. Adam put his around her as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and they walked past bars and restaurants filled with a wide variety of people. Just looking inside the patio of one restaurant, there were college students wearing their sweatshirts standing next to a pair of retirees, who were in turn standing next to a trio of power brokers in their suits. She pointed this out to him, and added, “coming from New York and L.A., you think you’re used to seeing lots of different types of people in one place, but this crowd is really random.”

Adam pulled her closer to him and asked, “what do you think people would say about us? Are we the college students or the politicians?”

“I think we look like two people on a date,” she answered easily. “It’s not our first date, but we’re definitely still in the getting to know you stage.”