The taxi's horn blares at me as I hurry across the crosswalk on 2nd Avenue.
"Okay, okay!" I holler at the driver as I skipped up onto the curb and out of his way.
"Everything all right?" My associate asks as I put the phone back up to my ear.
"Yes. Sorry. Let's talk later, I'll send you the contract for review."
"Sounds good. Congrats again on closing the new client!" she replies.
"Thanks," I say with a smile and then hang up.
"Yay!" I cheer as I saunter into my office on 2nd Avenue in Seattle. Birds are chirping, the sun is shining, and I just landed a huge contract. With this new client my company's revenue will grow larger than I ever imagined it could. The success is exhilarating, and there's one person that I can't wait to tell. Chris will be so proud of me.
I'm happy when I reach my desk, kick off my heels, and sit down after being out all day. I slip my laptop onto my desk and sort through my inbox. After a few minutes of catching up, I open Facebook.
As the first article flashes by I do a double take. My stomach drops as another picture flashes by. My heart beats so fast it feels like it's skipping, and I feel like I'm going to throw up.
I drop my forehead to my hand, emotions overwhelming me as anxiety churns in my stomach. It's a ball of poison that leads me to hyperventilate. Across social media are posts asking, Is Captain America Dating Again? as paparazzi pictures of my Chris Evans with his ex girlfriend stream across my screen.
Why the hell is he with her?
The rational part of my brain says it's worth giving him a chance to explain. But I'm already apprehensive after the last few weeks. I haven't seen Chris since Hotlanta eight weeks ago. We had two trips planned but both times he's rescheduled. He's been apologetic and we still talk everyday. And in the last year, there have been many times we've changed plans.
But these pictures of him with her sickens me. Is he involved with her again? Did I get played all along? I find the strength to close my laptop and put it out of reach.
Maybe I've been naive. Maybe I thought we had something more and he didn't.
"That can't be true." I moan, resting my head on my folded arms.
I knew that from the beginning this was supposed to be just bicoastal friends with benefits. We are both traveling regularly, our careers taking us around the world. If we are in the same city and the timing worked out, we'd meet up and spend time together. It is great sex with a really great partner.
But I didn't plan on falling in love with him.
I take a deep breath and attempt to stay calm. There has to be an explanation.
But just the fact that it was her, his actress ex girlfriend who'd never let him go. The girl who'd call the paparazzi when they were leaving restaurants, the one who had caused so much drama with his family, and so much pain the many times they broke up. He said he'd never be more than friends with her again.
And I know Chris isn't a liar. Or at least I thought I did.
Before my paranoia and worry cycle any further out of control I decide the best option is to call him. Give him a chance to explain. Resolve my sudden insecurities and go back to work.
"Hi." My hands are shaking from anxiety, adrenaline, and fear.
"Hey, how's it going?"
"Fine. How's it going with you?" I don't know how to start this conversation.
"Okay. I'm on set, about to film part of the big battle scene."
"Oh okay. That'll be cool."
An awkward silence rests between us.
"What's up? Why are you being weird?"
"I'm not being weird." We're silent again as Chris waits for me to tell him what's going on.
"I just...I saw some pictures online and it upset me." I can hear voices in the background, people bustling around the movie set.
"What pictures?"
"You. With your ex."
"Babe..." He responds with a gentle warning. I hear him cover the phone with his hand as he looks for somewhere more private.
"This is my job, that was just some event. Do you think that I would be with her ever again?" The stress and irritation are clear in his voice.
"I don't know, are you?" I ask.
Chris groaned. "I can't deal with this right now."
"Sorry have to deal with me. Jeez, Chris. Why don't you just talk to me?" The nasty snap in my words isn't helping. I need to chill out.
"I'm not gonna fight with you over the phone."
"Fine. Come here and fight with me in person then. Not like I've seen you recently." I know I'm being a bitch but my panic is spiraling.
"Fuck," he mutters under his breath. "You know what I mean. Can we do this later?"
His sharp tone is accented by the obvious frustration he's fighting to keep concealed from me and whoever else is on the other side of the phone.
"Okay, fine. Talk later," I reply.
"Later," he responds brusquely and hangs up.
The phone still at my ear, I hope his voice will fill the silence again. But he's gone. He's hung up on me.
I drop my phone into my palm and watch as the screensaver of our smiling faces disappears and the auto light fades off.
"Well FUCK!" I yell across my office. The fury builds up inside me as I throw my phone across the desk. I clench my fists and press them to my eyes. Crying won't fix this.
But I can't help it. Tears run down my cheeks as I chase my phone amongst the papers and stare at it, willing Chris to call back. I suppress the urge to call him again.
Doubt races through my mind and my throat feels like it's full of rocks. Somewhere a sane part of my brain tells me not to be irrational.
I didn't even get to tell him about my new client.
Before I spiral completely out of control I flip to my favorite contacts and call my friend Kyra.
When she answers I blurt out the whole story, the details of those stupid pictures, our argument, his words. She listens as a good friend does, and after my rant has ended and I'm breathing normally again, she suggests we go have margaritas. She insists a distraction would keep me from calling him.
Kyra and I meet at our favorite Taqueria overlooking Puget Sound. After summarizing the whole fight for her again and explaining my jealousy, she gives me a few bits of reassuring advice, and then successfully distracts me with talk about mutual friends and past memories. We cheers our margaritas to my new deal and the distraction seems to work.
Soon I'm on my third margarita and feeling great. I decide it's a great idea to go dancing. Kyra accompanies me like a faithful chaperone, sipping a drink from our table as I shake it across the dance floor. And then in a blur of margaritas and pop songs I forget about the fight.
The next morning I open my eyes and groan, disgusted at the bright sunshine streaming through my window. It takes a moment for the physical impact of my hangover to hit me. As soon as I sit up I regret it.
"Oh my god," I moan, my head pounding as a wave of nausea hits me. "What the hell did I do?"
I reach for my phone and see a text from Kyra at 8:00AM.
Hope you're doing OK today.
What the hell happened?
Well we had drinks. Then we went dancing, then you insisted on more drinks. I took you home when you start crying about Chris. I had to stop you from texting him like 5 times before I took away your phone.
"Oh shit," I whisper, switching back to my running text conversation with him. My last message to Chris was at 3:45 AM.
I drop my head to my hands, afraid to look. But I have to know what I said.
1:45AM
Why did u hang up on me?
2:02AM
You were being mean earlier
2:05AM
What the fuck Why don't u want to be with me
2:41AM
I hate that you're being an asshole
3:11AM
If youre not going to talk to me I'm going to hang up on u Cuz you're mean And a jerk and I hate u right now so fuck off
3:25AM
I miss u
3:38AM
Dont be mad
3:45AM
This makes me cry
"Fuck." I close my eyes as my phone drops to the mattress.
I don't even know what to do. My self esteem has plummeted. The fear mixes with the nausea, and I start crying again which doesn't help my headache.
He hasn't texted back this morning. Not a good sign.
I have to clear my head. Standing under the hot water in the shower, I bawl my eyes out. I can't believe I reacted so impulsively. I know he hates drama, he told me it was a deal breaker for him. I guess when I was drunk I didn't care.
I pull on a fresh T-shirt and leggings and crawl onto the couch, staring out the window while trying to decide if I should call him. The room is too quiet amongst the swimming thoughts in my head so I put on some music. I feel like I'm going crazy. I know I shouldn't text again until we talk. I'm getting up the nerve to call when there's a heavy knock on the door.
The margarita headache follows me as I drag myself across the room. I blink twice in surprise when I open the door to find Chris standing there. The morning sun flashes off the lenses of his Aviators as he turns his head to me, a scowl on his face.
"Hi." I allow out of my suddenly dry throat.
"Hi." He replies as he pushes past me into the living room.
I shut the door behind him quietly. As soon as he takes his sunglasses off, I see his bloodshot eyes and 5 o'clock shadow. His icy blue eyes glare with frustration. He throws his backpack and hat on the floor, and then turns to look at me.
"Well, you said you weren't going to fight over the phone. So let's fight."
The anger and pain are visible across his face, and I can see how bad my words hurt him.
"Do you have any idea how mean you were last night?" He starts, his brow furrowed.
"I...I was angry," I reply, wringing my hands. "I just...I don't see you for weeks and then there's all these pictures of you with her, and then you hang up on me!"
My voice gets louder as my frustration from yesterday returns, everything I'm upset about bubbling back up to the surface.
"What the fuck, Chris? I know you were working, but then you hang up on me?"
I watch his face grow red with anger as he crosses his arms and turns his upper body away. Chris presses his lips together in a hard line, keeping his angry words from spilling out.
"You're not going to talk to me? Why the FUCK are you here if you're not going to talk to me?" I shout, the noise ricocheting in my ears and pulsing across my head. "Yes I was drunk, but you still hold some blame in this!"
"Don't blame this on being drunk. You were mean," he responds quickly, annunciating the last word.
"I didn't ever think you tell me to fuck off because of some imaginary situation that would never happen. Those pictures were nothing! Don't you trust me more than that?!" He yells as he paces in front of the couch.
My eyes start swell with tears again as my neck and face turn red. Even in my anger I crave him, the space between us too wide.
"How do you think I feel? I haven't seen you in eight weeks! And I'm upset and trying to talk to you, and you hang up on me!" My voice sounds squeaky and hurts when I yell, most likely due to the abuse of tequila and cigarettes last night.
"I WAS WORKING!" He yells back, raking his hands through his short hair.
"You knew from the start that my filming schedule wouldn't be flexible, but I do my best to see you! FUCK! I just took the redeye after 12 hours on set to get here!"
I cross my arms and glare at my laptop as . Tears trail down my face again, dropping onto the edge of my t-shirt, as I tremble from embarrassment, jealousy, and anger. My lip quivers as my cries turn into sobs.
"So she was what, just a fling? Because shit, here I haven't seen you in weeks and these pictures come out and then you fucking HANG UP on me!" I know I'm being ridiculous but the words explode out of me.
"You're being ridiculous." Chris shakes his head at me, biting his lip to fight back angry tears.
"Whatever. If you don't care, then just fucking LEAVE!" I yell.
"OF COURSE I FUCKING CARE! I LOVE YOU!" Chris yells.
His words echo across the silent room as our eyes meet. The room freezes, time paused as his words touch me. But it's seconds before we rush towards each other, erasing the space between us.
His lips silence mine, our kisses making up for what's happened between us, our fight dying away. I fit my arms around his neck, as everything disappears but our lips and hands. I moan as he kisses me harder, then as his lips leave mine to trail kisses along my face.
"Oh baby," Chris whispers in my ear.
I pull away as tears of relief run down my cheeks. My lips open with the words that I've felt since Boston. And probably before that.
"I love you too," I cry, looking up into his beautiful eyes.
"I know." He replies with a smile, swiping away my tears with his thumb.
My lips meet his again, my cries turning into into whimpers as his tongue meets mine and our kiss deepens. Chris wraps his arms around me even tighter, pressing us back together again.
He slowly steps backwards to the couch and pulls me onto his lap. Our anger turns to overwhelming passion and I'm panting as we frantically strip our clothes off.
I stand up and peel off my leggings as he lifts his hips, pulling his boxers and jeans down. I fall to my knees in front of him, and tug the clothes away. He groans as I take his dick in my hands, stroking it as it grows. He throws his head back against the couch as I take him in my mouth, lavishing over the sensitive head. My hands work up and down his shaft, while my tongue teases his tender skin, running along his veins, pulling groans from his open mouth. He encourages me, rocking his hips and thrusting his dick further into my throat. I feel my own wet seeping under me and I'm pleased when his pre cum trickles onto my tongue. His eyelashes flutter as he looks down at me.
"Come here, kitten. I need you." he breathes slowly. Chris wraps his arms around me, pulling me onto his lap. I smirk as the music shuffles and in the background.
Chris pulls his lips away and hums against my neck, "How appropriate."
I nod, gasping as his lips return to my skin. His teeth torment my earlobe as his fingers gently tease my nipples, my shameless moans filling the house.
His kisses across my breasts cause me to grind against him, my legs straddling his. I'm greedy for him, to feel him inside me.
I slowly lower my hips, teasing us both. As I sink down we both moan as he fills me, my body opening for him.
"Chris. I love you." I whimper as I bring my hips down deep against his, clenching my muscles around him. Chris moans in agreement and places his hands on my hips, guiding me up and down, moving me where it feels best.
I'm relieved to feel him again. His hands grip my neck to hold me close, and he kisses me hard as I grind up and down. The friction of his pelvis rubbing against my clit pushes me to my orgasm. I moan as Chris moves my hips faster against him, both of us close now.
He throbs inside me as we move into our deep bliss. Chris wraps his arms around me as I let go, holding me tight against him as we come. His hard grip in my hair and his lips wet against mine pushes me over. Chris holds my hips down as we come together in a symphony of moans.
"Oh god," he mutters under his breath as I slowly rock on top of him, my body ricocheting from our orgasms. We rest for a moment, him still inside me, and kiss softly, as if we're meeting again for the first time.
Slowly I peel myself away and fall onto the couch next to him. Chris stands to pull on his boxers, then crawls next to me to lay on the couch. I curl into his arms, relishing the comfort of feeling him around me.
"I love you." He says, music still playing in the background. "It's nice to say that out loud."
I grin. "I love hearing it."
Chris pulls me in tighter, and kisses my forehead softly.
"I'm sorry." I mutter.
"Shhh, stop. It's okay now."
"No, I'm scared of losing you and I never should've said those things." I tuck my head into his arm, feeling safe now.
"Shhh, it's ok. I'm sorry you were upset. And I'm sorry too, about all of this. But we have to talk to each other when we're upset. I'll try to be better about it. And kitten..." He says as he tips my chin to meet his eyes.
"Since you said what you did, since this week, this month, this year. I realized I've fallen for you. I'm in love with you. Never doubt that."
I nod, relishing in the comfort as he softly runs his fingers through my hair.
"And I hope you know, just cuz I was at an event or some Hollywood thing with other people- it doesn't mean I'm not wishing I was in bed with you." He smiles, watching me with the sweetest expression on his face.
I grin and tilt my head up to meet his lips.
"I wish you were here too," I reply as I match his sweet kisses.
"So, margaritas huh? You left me voicemails too." He says with a grin.
"Ugh, don't talk about it. It's gross. Can we make some food, maybe watch a movie? I need to eat. My head still hurts...although not as bad as before," I smirk.
"Sounds good," Chris responds as we gather our clothes.
"How much time you got?" I ask with a suggestive grin, pulling my t-shirt over my head.
"24 hours, baby. I'm all yours." He teases as he runs his hands over my naked hips.
"Maybe later I'll make it up to you again." I raise my eyebrows and grin.
"That a promise?" He nuzzles my neck, his hands grazing across my back.
"Yes," I giggle as his hand moves further down my bare ass.
Chris meets my lips and kisses me sweetly again.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
He smacks my ass as I head to the kitchen and laughs at my yelp as I dance away. My tears now replaced by a happy grin.
We have a great 24 hours, eating, watching movies, being in love.
And I make it up to him again before he leaves. Twice.