Chapter 11

Victoria

I nearly tripcoming out of Hayden Maddox's trailer. Can I start thinking of him as just Hayden now that he's had his tongue in my mouth?

No. No, he needs to stay Hayden Maddox, because anything else is tantamount to admitting that he's a real person, and I can't let myself see him that way.

Because if I did, I'd turn around and kiss him again.

And I can't do that. Because … Because …

Because it's a bad idea, even if I can't exactly remember why right now.

Because I don't have time anyway, do I? Between this gig helping with costumes, my real job, and taking care of Erin, when would I have time to go on a date anyway?

He wasn't offering a date, whispers a wicked voice in the back of my mind.

Even so, I'm not sure I have time for casual sex either.

Not that he was even offering that much. It was a hug, a cuddle, and a kiss. That's all.

But the memory of that kiss won't leave my mind. Not when I gather up Erin and the next batch of costumes Mia wants me to work on. Not when I grab dinner for Erin and me on the way home or when I help her with her math homework after dinner or when I'm making the small fitting adjustments to the costumes I brought home tonight. Fortunately it's not as many as last night, and it doesn't take long after I tuck Erin into bed for me to finish.

The downside is that with nothing else to distract me from my thoughts of Hayden Maddox, I'm left lying in bed, wide awake, my thighs clenching at the memory of how he held me, how he kissed me, and how I wish our interlude could've ended.

If I were free to do that.

If I weren't concerned about people talking.

If I didn't care what effects the gossip might have on Erin. On me. On my real job.

Dr. Banks might be a good dentist, but he's also stuffy and conservative, and I know he thinks less of me because of my single motherhood. Oh, sure, he sometimes gives me compliments, but it's more of the, "Your kid is turning out well, which is a surprise since she doesn't have a father," variety.

He's said some variation of that to me on more than one occasion, in fact. I can only imagine how he'd react if he learned I was sleeping with the movie star in town for a short while to make a film. A film I'm employed by, no less. Even if Hayden Maddox isn't exactly my boss—though since he's a producer, one could make the argument that he is—it's not something my real boss would look upon kindly.

Tossing and turning is getting me nowhere. Quietly, I get out of bed, creep down the hall, and check on Erin to make sure she's really asleep.

It doesn't happen often, but sometimes she still wakes up from a nightmare and climbs into my bed. I don't want that kind of interruption tonight.

Tiptoeing back to my room, I pull my vibrator out of the bathroom drawer where I stash it and slip back into my bed. Turning it on low, I let myself get swept away by the memory, the fantasy, of Hayden Maddox. His kisses. The way his skin felt under my hands. I've seen pictures of him shirtless and I've felt his body against mine, so it's not difficult to imagine him taking off his shirt and skimming my hands over the bumps and ridges of his chest and abs while his lips blaze a trail down my neck.

I pinch my own nipple, pretending it's him, his lips, his teeth, his tongue and turn up the vibrator, my hips undulating, my orgasm building.

Usually when I need a release, I try to keep it quick to avoid my daughter walking in on me in the middle of chasing an orgasm, but tonight I don't want to rush anything. I want to revel in the fantasy, because this is as close as I'll ever get.

Kissing Hayden Maddox can't be anything but a mistake, and I won't let it happen again. But for now. For tonight. Here, on my own, in my bed, I can pretend that we could've been something else, had something more.

On the highest setting now, I work myself, still imagining Hayden here with me, his fingers, his mouth, and soon heat and electricity bolt out from my center, causing my pussy to spasm and my muscles to quake, the effects of the orgasm still shimmering over my skin even after I pull the vibe away and turn it off. I lie there panting for several minutes, then get up and clean off the vibe and put it away before rolling over, pulling the blankets up, and falling asleep.

As much as I told myself I'd forget about the kiss after last night, morning arrives making it patently clear I won't be able to do that.

It intrudes on my thoughts at the most inopportune moments. And since the movie's being filmed right outside Arcadian Falls, it's all anyone can talk about.

"I hear you're helping with the costumes on that movie," says Melissa, my first patient of the day.

"Oh, yeah," I say, trying to make it sound offhand as I get everything set up to scale her teeth.

"Well? How is it? Have you met Brady Green? Or Hayden Maddox?" She lets her head drop back on the headrest as I adjust the light over her mouth. "God, I had the biggest crush on Brady Green growing up. Didn't you?"

I offer her a closed-mouth smile that she can't really see from behind my mask. "Oh, sure. But who didn't?"

"And what about Hayden Maddox? Did you see those pictures of him at the beach?"

My eyebrows wing up. Sure, it's spring, and the weather's warming up, but it's nowhere near beach weather. "I'm not sure," I murmur noncommittally, picking up the tool.

"Google it when you get home. You'll thank me later." Thankfully, she opens her mouth so I can get to work, which makes her stop talking about Hayden Maddox for at least a little while.

But she's not the only one. Everyone's full of questions and theories, and I'm grateful for the kids on my schedule today because they're more interested in telling me about how much they don't like the school's chicken nuggets because they're not as good as McDonald's or how the one boy in their class always cuts in line. I'm much happier discussing the finer points of line etiquette with elementary school kids than the finer points of Hayden Maddox's abs.

Especially since I know what they feel like.

And when everyone keeps talking about him, there's no way I can forget that fact.

When Brit shows up at the end of the day, I do my best to disguise my mixed feelings about seeing her, pasting on a big smile when I greet her.

She narrows her eyes at me. "What's wrong? What's with that face?"

Sighing, I let my shoulders slump. I should've known better than to try to hide anything from my best friend. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Uh-huh." She props her arms on the counter, staring at me with undisguised doubt. "How soon do you have to pick up Erin? Do you have time for a drink once you wrap up here?"

I glance at the clock, finishing up the last few things on the computer before logging out. "One quick drink, but that's it," I tell her, standing and gathering my jacket and purse from the locked drawer where I keep them during the day. "See you tomorrow, Dr. Banks!" I call toward the back, not waiting for his acknowledgment before hustling Brittney out the door.

She looks at me with raised eyebrows. "Are you going to get in trouble for that?"

I shrug. "I'll blame it on the costuming job. He's aware of and nominally okay with my involvement with the movie, though he's been making more and more veiled disapproving comments. As long as I get all my work done, though, he doesn't have any grounds to get upset. I think he's just annoyed because that's all our patients talk about. And honestly, I can't blame him. It gets old fast."

More raised eyebrows from Brit as she leads me to The Filling Station, our favorite spot for after-work drinks. "Is the costuming not going well? Are they all unrepentant snotty assholes? What's wrong?"

Sighing, I pull her to a stop on the corner, glancing around to make sure no one's close enough to hear. Because I need to tell someone, and the only person I can reasonably tell is Brittney. "Okay. Listen. You have to promise not to freak out."

Her head cocks to the side and she surveys me skeptically. "Why would I freak out?"

"I'm serious. Promise me, Brit."

She holds up her right hand. "Okay, fine. I promise."

I dart another look around. "I kissed Hayden Maddox," I whisper in a rush.

Her brows knit together. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

I lean in closer and repeat it with a hiss. "I kissed Hayden Maddox!"

She steps back, both her eyebrows shooting up her forehead, her hands covering her mouth. "You what?" she practically screeches.

Waving a hand, I look around again. "Shhh! Not so loud. You said you wouldn't freak out."

She clutches my arm. "That's before you dropped that bomb. Tell me everything. What happened? How? Did you …?" She nudges me with her elbow, giving me a suggestive look.

"Oh my god! No!" I roll my eyes. "When? How?" I throw up my hands.

"Please. You've told me you've been alone with him in his trailer. That's where and how. What's there to think about? So what happened?" She hooks her arm in mine and drags me inside, telling the hostess we want a table instead of taking our usual seats at the bar. She knows me well enough to know I won't give her all the gory details if I'm worried about being overheard.

We put in our drink orders—a beer for Brit, coffee for me, which earns me some side eye from my friend—then she leans across the table, palms flat. "Okay. You're killing me with these crumbs of information. Tell. Me. What. Happened!"

Laughing, I fill her in on all the details—pausing when the waitress returns with our drinks—grateful to be able to purge all of this to someone at last. Even if it only happened yesterday, it feels like I've been sitting on a ticking bomb for nearly twenty-four hours, and telling someone is the only way to keep from exploding.

"So when do you see him next?" she asks, her voice vibrating with her excitement at what I'm sure she sees as a fun fling for me.

Sitting back, I cross my arms and shrug. "I'm not sure. I'm not due on set today, because I told them I couldn't be there every day." Reaching for my coffee, I take a sip and shake my head. "But it doesn't really matter. Nothing can happen."

Brit gives me a confused look. "Why not?"

"Oh, I dunno, Brittney. Maybe because he's way out of my league?" She scoffs, but I ignore her. "Or how about the fact that he's leaving when the movie's over? Or the fact that there's not actually time? Now that they're shooting, all my time there will be eaten up with costume work, and all my time not there will be eaten up with my job, Erin, and more costuming work. When would I even have time for a tawdry fling with a movie star?" The last question is little more than a hiss.

"Oh, Tori," Brit sighs. "You deserve to have some fun, you know. You've been so serious for so long." She holds up her hands to hold off my protest when I open my mouth. "And I get it. I do. I understand how Erin came to be. I know why that's made you gun-shy. But you're not the dumb twenty-year-old you were when you got pregnant."

"Nineteen," I mutter. "I got pregnant at nineteen, even if I'd already turned twenty before I had her."

"Exactly. Your brain wasn't even done developing yet. But now look at you! Your brain is done cooking. You're an established adult. You know better, you have more options, and you won't end up in the same situation as before. I get that you're busy. You are. But when are you going to take time for yourself?"

Tears sting my eyes, and I blink them away with a shake of my head. Without answering her question, I check the time on my phone then drain the rest of my coffee. "I really should go. I promised Erin I'd spend time with her today."

Brittney arches one eyebrow, clearly aware that I'm using that as an excuse to get out of discussing this more, even if it is the truth. "What're you going to do?"

I shrug, reaching into my purse to pull out cash to cover my coffee. "I'm not sure. She didn't seem too thrilled about the prospect, if I'm honest. But she's been acting out more since I took on the costuming gig. Some of it's probably the age, but whether she admits it or not, some of it's about the fact I've been so busy."

Brit nods, then scoots out of the booth to give me a hug. "I'm serious," she says, patting me on the back. "About you deserving fun. You do. So quit trying to talk yourself out of something that could do you some good. And keep me posted." She grins as she releases me.

Laughing, I shake my head. "Sure. Will do."

But after the way I ran out of his trailer like my hair was on fire? I doubt there'll be anything to keep Brit posted about. Even if I wanted there to be. Which I don't. Because despite what my best friend thinks, getting tangled up with a movie star—even if it is just for a short time—has bad idea written all over it.