The Beginning, page 4
part #0.50 of Off Screen Series
It hadn’t occurred to Addison that she was using Emma’s shampoo. As the soap began to foam, the steam wafted the shampoo’s floral fragrance into the air. It hovered in the enclosed space penetrating every one of Addison’s senses. An emotional epiphany occurred. Addison was standing in Emma’s shower. The scent in the air and the heat of the pulsing water conspired to create a wonderful, uncontrollable fantasy in the writer’s mind. This is where Emma showered. This is where she stood. Addison struggled to breathe. Without any conscious thought, her hand slowly began to trace the outlines of her body, imagining that she was touching Emma.
Addison heard herself moan softly. God, she wanted to touch Emma. She wanted to feel Emma close—to kiss her. She wanted to take Emma. Addison’s hand drifted lower, lightly caressing the tip of her nipple. She sighed, picturing Emma before her. Jasmine—that was the scent she detected. It was jasmine with a hint of something citrusy. She breathed it in, picturing Emma standing before her. A stream of water gracefully descended over Emma’s shoulder traveling down the swell of her breasts, and finally trickling over her nipple. Addison imagined gently reaching out and allowing her finger to trace that same pathway, lingering when she reached a taut, pink bud. “Oh God,” she breathed as her fingers massaged her breasts and finally reached her own aching nipples. In her mind, Emma had thrown her head back slightly in pleasure, exposing her neck. Addison imagined trailing a line of kisses all the way down Emma’s body, starting behind her ear and methodically tasting every inch of skin, drinking the water that gracefully fell over Emma like raindrops.
It was a delicious fantasy. Addison had lost all reason, and any will to find any reason. She felt closer to Emma than she’d imagined possible. This would likely be the closest she would ever come to realizing her fantasy. Here, she felt oddly close to Emma Bronson. Her nipples ached from her gentle pulling as it gradually became more forceful. Addison tilted her head back, thankful that there seemed to be a never-ending supply of hot water. Deliberately, her hand dropped again. She felt her stomach muscles clench as her touch moved lower. “Em,” she whispered. She swore she could hear Emma’s ragged breathing in her ear, and that she could feel Emma’s breasts against her. Desire swelled as the seconds passed. She moaned breathlessly when she felt the softness of her arousal.
Addison was completely lost to lust, lost to fantasy, and lost to desire that seemed insatiable. Her need was urgent, but the dreamscape she had stepped into seemed to demand that she prolong her endeavor as long as possible. Gently, she allowed her fingers to glide over her opening. Her legs instinctively parted as she imagined touching Emma.
“Inside,” she imagined Emma’s plea.
As if desperate to fulfill that request, Addison dipped two fingers inside herself and groaned. Immediately, her muscles tightened around the steady probing of her fingers. Her other hand squeezed a nipple tighter, urging her body to submit to her will. “I want to feel you,” she whispered to the mirage in front of her. “Now,” she breathed heavily.
“Harder,” she heard Emma’s voice beg and immediately complied, thrusting deeper and with greater force inside herself.
She craved release. Her left hand fell to join her right on a furious mission to achieve ecstasy. With tender force, she rubbed small circles around the point of her arousal, steadily increasing the pressure, unable to tell the warmth of her wetness from the hot water that mixed with it. She could swear she heard her entire body hum. It wasn’t the sound of the falling water, she was sure of that. It was the beating of her heart and the pulsing of her nerves that rang in her ears. Her fingers urgently picked up the pace. “Emma,” she called again. She called the name over and over as she felt her muscles contract and her body shudder violently. “God!” It felt so good. She didn’t want it to end—ever. “God, I love you.” The words came as a final wave of pleasure overtook her. Still, she persisted, not wanting to let go of the fantasy. “Emma,” she sighed through her final release.
It took Addison a moment to return to reality. When she did, she felt a new warmth travel down her cheek. Now, she would have to face Emma. Shit. There was no avoiding the truth. Addison Blake was in complete lust with Emma Bronson. Worse still, she had fallen head over heels in love with her friend. “Fuck,” she sighed. “Impossible relationships. What the hell, Addy?”
Chapter Four
Emma placed a hot cup of tea in front of a quiet, almost sullen Addison. She watched as Addison toyed with the tea bag repeatedly, never lifting her gaze from her silent task. Emma wasn’t certain what was bothering her friend. It made her heart ache. Addison’s friendship meant the world to Emma. She looked forward to their Saturday afternoons. She delighted in their late night conversations. Addison had no expectations of how Emma should behave. Emma was confident that the writer wouldn’t care whether she was wearing a pair of jeans, an Armani evening gown or a holey pair of sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt. Addison liked Emmie. She knew Emmie Bronson. As Emma kept her silent watch over her friend, a faint hint of insecurity made its presence known in her heart. Would Addison be able to accept Emma Bronson as easily as she had Emmie? Emma Bronson’s life could get more than a little crazy. Then, another question popped into her head. Perhaps, Addison feared that the end of their four coffee dates heralded the end of their friendship. Emma sighed. “Addy?”
Addison picked up her head and greeted Emma with what could only be described as a sad smile. “Thanks,” Addison said.
Emma sighed deeply. “Addy, can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything,” Addison said. She immediately wished she had not made that response. Good Lord, she mentally scolded herself. What the hell will you say if she asks how you feel about her?
“Do you still want to keep seeing each other?” Emma asked hesitantly. “What I mean is, you don’t think that because this was our fourth agreed coffee hour, well—you don’t think that means—”
Addison smiled. “Emma,” she said seriously as she finally let go of her tea bag and took her friend’s hand in reassurance. “Of course, I want to see you.” She realized suddenly that her response could be taken different ways. “I really hope that those coffee dates were just the beginning.” It was a benign statement, but deep down Addison knew there was more truth in it than she had spoken in hours.
Emma breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Are you feeling better?”
“I’m all right,” Addison promised. “So, is Saturday our standing date or what?” she asked.
“Absolutely, except next Saturday.”
“Hot date?” Addison asked, trying to keep the hurt and fear out of her voice.
“I have heard Riverton referred to many ways. Hot date has never been used in the same sentence—I don’t think.”
“You’re visiting home?”
“Yeah. It’s my parents’ 35th anniversary. Why that matters as a milestone, I don’t know. They’re weird. Every five years they have a family dinner to celebrate their anniversary. I mean, I get that for maybe the first twenty. Really?” Emma giggled. “Could we not step up to increments of ten now?”
“I think it’s kind of sweet,” Addison said.
Emma’s eyes sparkled at the comment. Addison was a complete sap. Emma’s thoughts drifted, wondering how Addison’s heart impacted Addison’s work. “You are a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?”
“Probably,” Addison admitted. “Seeing other people’s happy endings gives me a little ray of hope for my own,” she said. “Maybe,” she whispered.
Emma noted the skepticism in her friend’s voice. “Oh, I think you’ll get that happy ending, Addy,” she said with a wink. “Some beautiful woman is going to fly in unexpectedly one day and steal your heart forever.”
Addison nodded and forced herself to smile as the truth passed through her thoughts. Too late. You already have.
***
“Hi,” Addison answered. “I didn’t think I’d hear from you."
“Why not?” Emma asked.
“Just thought you’d be getting ready for your trip.”
“It’s only a couple of days. Not much to get ready,” Emma answered.
“Any news?” Addison inquired. Emma told her that she expected to hear about the show sometime during the week.
“Not yet.”
“Nervous?” Addison asked.
“Maybe a little. I guess I won’t really know how I feel until I know what is happening. Is that crazy?”
“Only if logical is suddenly crazy,” Addison said. She heard Emma chuckle. “Listen, I hate to cut this short. I’m supposed to meet Tam in half an hour.”
“Oh,” Emma’s voice dropped slightly.
“Hey, I can call her and call you back,” Addison said when she heard the disappointment in Emma’s voice.
“No. Go see Tam. I’ll call you later this week.”
“Em? What’s wrong?” Addison asked. She noted something indiscernible in Emma’s voice that concerned her
Emma wasn’t sure how to respond to her friend’s question. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with her. After Addison left her house on Saturday, she’d taken a long shower and climbed into bed. She wanted to look at the contents of the large manila envelope on her table that was labeled, Screenplay for Em. She didn’t have the energy. She’d looked at it repeatedly for the last few days. She’d picked it up and studied it, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to open it. Emma sat down at her small kitchen table and lifted it again, tracing the handwriting on the front. A myriad of emotions jumbled and clashed within her. Waiting for news about her show’s future was proving more stressful than she had anticipated. Addison always seemed to be able to calm her. Right now, just talking to Addison seemed to be making her nervous. She wasn’t certain why. “I’m okay,” Emma finally answered unconvincingly.
“Liar,” Addison poked lightly. “I’ll call Tam and cancel.”
“No. Don’t you dare,” Emma interrupted. “I swear, I’m okay. I just know everyone will have questions at home.”
“About the show, you mean?”
“Yeah. And, for some reason, they’re always playing proverbial matchmaker. My mom wants grandchildren—yesterday,” Emma said with a giggle.
Addison swallowed hard. She would need to face some stark realities if she planned to keep Emma in her life. One of those realities would inevitably be Emma finding someone to love. She had tossed and turned for the last few nights contemplating that thought. She wondered how Emma could have crept into her heart and embedded herself there in just a few weeks. It was unusual for Addison. When she fell, she fell hard, but Addison had never fallen so far, so fast. She’d found herself standing in front of the bathroom mirror, engaged in a verbal battle with her reflection the night before:
“It’s lust, Addy—just lust,” Addison said.
“Keep telling yourself that,” her reflection replied.
“Lust. That’s all it is. She is, after all, a beautiful, sexy woman. Who wouldn’t want her?”
“Uh-huh. The problem is the ache in your heart is stronger than the ache in your crotch.”
“You are so crude sometimes.”
“And, you, my dear Addy, can lie to yourself all you like. At this rate, you will need to buy stock in both Kleenex and Duracell. Just come clean with her.”
“This is a bad Flintstone’s episode. No. No. No. She’s my friend. Might I add my straight friend?”
“They are all straight until they aren’t.”
“Shut up.”
“Give in.”
“You first,” Addison demanded of herself.
“Never.”
“This is insane.”
“I’d tell you to take a shower and cool off, but we both know how that would end.”
“Shut up.”
“Okay, I will just patiently wait for your Barry White CD to pop on.”
“Screw you, Addy.”
“Yep, that’s pretty much what lies ahead.”
And, that is how the rest of the evening wore on—Addison debating her reflection. Addison’s heart yelling for her head to shut up. Addison’s head lecturing her heart to be reasonable. Addison’s body struggling to cope with the onslaught of fear, lust, hopefulness, and—
“Addy?” Emma called over the phone line. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah, sorry. Just got distracted for a minute. Are you sure that you are okay?"
Emma looked at the phone in her hand. Addison would have dropped everything if she asked. Emma had the fleeting thought that if she asked Addison, the writer would hop in her bomb and drive Emma to Kansas. The thought brought a smile to her lips and a strange warmth began to spread over her body. “I am now,” she replied truthfully.
Addison felt her heart skip several beats. “You know, you can call me whenever.”
Emma smiled broadly as she listened to the writer.
“You don’t have to, but if you need—”
“I know,” Emma said. She was beginning to wish that she was not going away. She suddenly wanted to see the face attached to the voice on the other end of the line. “How about a Monday coffee date?” she suggested.
“Monday?” Addison asked.
“Sure. I don’t film for the next two weeks. I’ll be back Sunday night. Unless you are tutoring or you—”
“No!” Addison jumped in a bit more enthusiastically than she would have liked. She couldn’t see the way her reaction caused Emma’s smile to widen in delight. She softened her tone. “No, I don’t have anywhere I have to be,” she said. Or anywhere I would rather go, she continued the thought in her head. “Same time, same place?”
“Same time, same place,” Emma answered quietly.
“Em?”
“Yeah. I’m here. I’ll miss our Saturday.”
The admission made Addison’s heart swell. Even if Emma could never return the depth of her affection, it was clear that she cared for Addison. Maybe that would be enough—just to have a friend to count on. “Me too,” Addison said. “I’ll see you Monday.”
“I look forward to it. I’ll try not to have my car break down again,” Emma joked. “Have fun with Tam."
“Have fun with the folks.”
“I will.”
“Don’t go getting married or some crazy thing before Monday,” Addison laughed.
Emma wanted to prolong their dialogue. “I think Billie Bob Binder is taken now.”
“That is a tragedy,” Addison said.
“For his wife—probably,” Emma added.
Addison laughed. “I have to go. See you on Monday. Safe travels, okay?”
“Yeah. See you then,” Emma said as she slowly disconnected their call. “See you Monday, Addy.” Emma wondered why Monday seemed so far in the future.
***
“What is wrong with you?” Tamara asked Addison.
“What are you talking about?” Addison snapped.
“That. That is what I am talking about. What is up with you? I’ve barely seen you for weeks and now here we are, and you are a million miles away. I ask you what’s wrong and you bark at me.”
Addison threw her head back in frustration. “I’m sorry, Tam. I’m just a little worried about Em.”
“Em? You mean Emma Bronson?” Tamara asked for clarification.
“Yeah.”
“Exactly how much time have you been spending with her that she is now, Em?”
“What? That’s her name, isn’t it?” Addison asked.
“If you say so. I have never heard anyone else call her that.” Tamara shrugged.
“Spend lots of time with her friends, do you?” Addison asked a bit harshly.
“Is that what you are?” Tamara returned. “Her friend? Seriously, Addy, how close are you two?”
Addison shrugged. “We’re friends. I think you could say that. I think she would say that.”
“So?” Tamara pushed.
“What?”
“Has she given you any friendly advice about breaking in?”
Addison attempted to control her temper. “What the hell, Tam?”
“Oh, come on, Addy. You haven’t even asked her?” Tamara said in disbelief.
“No, I haven’t, and I have no intention of ever asking her that question.”
“Why the hell not?” Tamara asked.
“Because she’s my friend.”
“Yeah, so? Don’t friends help each other?”
“Drop it,” Addison demanded.
“Bit defensive there, aren’t you? What is up with you, Addy?”
Addison sighed. “I don’t know. Just, she’s expecting news this week. I guess I’m worried about her a little. But, she’ll have lots of support if she needs it,” Addison said.
Tamara looked at her curiously.
“She’s probably at the airport now,” Addison said softly. “Heading home for the week.”
Tamara shook her head. “Addy—"
“What?”
“You have the hots for Emma Bronson. Holy Shit! You do! You are crushing on Emma Bronson!”
“I am not crushing, as you put it, on Emma Bronson. She’s a friend, Tam. Give it a rest.”
“I don’t blame you.” Tamara laughed.
“I do not have the hots for Em.”
Tamara cocked her head and looked at Addison suspiciously. “Did you sleep with her?”
“What?” Addison snapped.
“Did you? Oh, my God, you slept with her, didn’t you?”
“You watch way too much reality television, Tam. No. I did not sleep with Emma,” she said definitively.
“Bummer.”
“Tam, let’s just change the subject, okay?” Addison finally suggested.
“Fuck me. Don’t tell me—You have feelings for her. Oh, Addy. What are you doing?” Tamara asked.
“She’s my friend, that’s all,” Addison said sadly.
Tamara nodded and took Addison’s hand, changing the tenor of their conversation. She’d known Addison since they were teenagers. Tamara could be larger than life and she enjoyed goading the writer occasionally, but she also considered Addison her best friend. There wasn’t any secret she hadn’t or would not keep, and there wasn’t anything she would not do to see her friend happy. She’d lived through Addison’s heartbreak once. She hated to think that her friend was walking down that narrow, dead-end path again. “Addy, I was just teasing. Come on, what’s up?”
