Page 7 of Something New

He sipped an energy drink and wondered if Anna had made the ferry. He should have checked to make sure she was on board before they left, keeping his promise to Caroline that he’d bring Anna to the house today. But he just wasn’t ready to face her yet. No amount of time could ever prepare him for Anna.

He scanned the groups of people on the top deck, the families, the couples, trying to see Anna. For one moment, the crowd parted, and he saw her, sitting alone in the boat's bow, isolated like an island in a sea of people.

She was on the edge of a bench, a few suitcases around her, a scarf wrapped around her hair, and a pair of sunglasses to hide her eyes. Both were viable options, knowing Anna. She was dressed much more casually than he expected. Simple jeans, a white tank top, flattering her olive skin tone. His hands itched to trace those same curves like he’d done so many times before. He loved spending time in bed, running his fingers over her body, the smooth, sensitive skin, the curves and valleys made for holding and gripping during a sweaty bout of sex. And Anna had loved sex with him. Together, they had been like a gas and fire, combustible and explosive. But they were also volatile and when things had gone wrong, they had gone really wrong, leading to hurt feelings, sharp words, and broken hearts.

Well, damn. He shifted against the railing, adjusting his jeans, hoping no one saw his rising erection. This week was going to be much harder than he had expected. Maybe he wasn’t as unaffected as he had thought. He should have taken Kyle up on his offer of a date months ago. If he hadn’t been on a self-imposed celibacy for so long, maybe he wouldn’t be so aroused by the sight of Anna. If just seeing her could do this, imagine talking to her, spending the week with her, sleeping across the hall from her, knowing what she was like in bed.

At that moment, she turned and saw him. She lowered her sunglasses and met his gaze, her expression inscrutable. He sucked in a deep breath. No way to hide now. He pushed off the railing and sauntered across the deck to her, smiling what he hoped was a roguish grin. There was no way she could ever know how she had broken his heart or how she still affected him. As he got closer, her expression remained closed, almost cold and haughty, and his smile only grew. Didn’t she remember when she was at her snottiest, he just had to tease her out of it? It was like waving a red flag in front of a bull, a challenge to any red-blooded male. He hadn’t changed in that respect, and she was waving that flag right now.

“Anna Costado. Fancy meeting you here.”

She glared at him, eyes flashing fire. “Shh, keep your voice down. I don’t need anyone hearing my name.” She scanned the surrounding crowds, her shoulders tense and alarm flickering on her face.

He narrowed his gaze and studied her. While he used to enjoy her fire, something was off with her reaction. The Anna he knew loved the crowds and the attention, always striking a pose for effect, enjoying being the center of attention. Right now, she seemed scared of the crowds.

He leaned against the deck railing and folded his arms across his chest. “Looking a little more casual than I would have expected from a movie star.” He let his gaze roam slowly over her body, noting the clenched fists, the still, crossed legs, the tight set of her mouth. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to be inconspicuous, but that can’t be true. Not Anna Costado, media darling.”

She shot him a sour look before sliding her sunglasses back on her face, tossing her head and turning away from him, into the wind. He grinned, not even bothering to hide it. She was so easy to tease, something he had forgotten from their dating days. Next, he imagined he would tug her to her feet, pull that scarf off her hair, and kiss her senseless.

As if the reminder of their kiss was a splash of cold water from the Gulf, his smile faded. No, he wasn’t here to rekindle his romance or even tease Anna out of whatever mood she was in. That wasn’t his role anymore. His role ended the day she refused to be there for him, despite all the times he had been there for her throughout her auditions, her performances, her shows. He had always been there, for whatever Anna needed, even that night in the college bar when she had gotten in over her head with those dumbass frat boys with her typical flirty ways. They had misinterpreted her signals and came on too strong with her, forcing a challenge from Wyatt, who had not yet learned the wisdom of walking away from unwinnable fights. No, he had waded in with fists flying and lost—the fight, the respect of his teammates, and his professional football career. And what had Anna lost?

Not a goddamned thing.

He needed to remember that before he got sucked into the black hole that was her life. Everything in her sphere was eventually pulled in tight to her and torn apart, ripped to shreds under the force of her personality, her dysfunction, and her desperate need for being the center of the universe. Wyatt couldn’t afford to get drawn back in. He had clawed his way free after a horrible withdrawal, much like a drug addict, and he couldn’t relapse.

He pushed up from the railing. “I promised Caroline I’d help you get to the house. I’m not sure if someone is meeting us or if they left the car. Make sure all your luggage is together and that you get it off the ferry quickly.”

He stalked away, not wanting to stay within her sphere any longer. As he crossed the deck to the other side, voices caught his attention from a bench by the railing.

“Is that Anna Costado fromBlazing Passions?” A young woman spoke in an excited tone.

“I think so. Did you hear what a mess she is on the set? I heard she sleeps with all of her coworkers and never shows up on time.” Another young woman, late teens, leaned into the other two girls and spoke in a regular voice, not bothering to hide her distaste.

“Well, did you hear how she got that poor waitress fired just the other day, and the woman was a single mom of five kids? What a bitch!” The first girl spoke again, her eyes wide and tone hushed, but not quiet enough. Her voice still carried across the deck, intentionally judging by the nasty look she shot toward Anna.

“I heard she does drugs and alcohol. And not pot, but hard stuff, like pills and cocaine. Can you believe Derek Harper dated her? She doesn’t deserve him.” The third woman spoke, scorn lacing every word, as if she personally knew Anna.

The first woman took out her cell phone and held it up as if to take a picture. The other two also did it, and then they busied themselves posting it on all social media sites, comparing snarky comments, trying to outdo each other. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he stepped up to them, and they craned their necks up as he blocked the sun from their screens.

“What do you want?” The older one gave him a suspicious look, her gaze traveling his snug UT shirt and worn jeans.

“Didn’t your momma teach you it’s rude to take pictures of people without their permission?” He drawled in a low voice, a hint of anger threading through the words.

The older woman, whom he first thought to only be a few years older than the other two, now proved to be several years older but dressed and made up to look the age of what he guessed were her daughters. She cast him a haughty look, as nasty as the words she had slung about Anna. “I’m their mother, and Anna should be ashamed of how she has acted, running around with men and pulling outlandish stunts for attention. She’s a terrible role model for my daughters, and I’m ashamed to know she’s from Texas.”

He gave her an even stare, one that even his toughest football players backed down from, but she met it defiantly, although he caught a hint of a break in her expression, but no real shame.

A hand settled on his arm, tugging him gently. “Wyatt, it’s okay. I’m used to this.” Anna’s low voice broke the standoff. She turned to the woman and her daughters. “Have a nice day.”

The younger girl, as if she just hadn’t been a total bitch to Anna, jumped up. “Can I get a picture with you?”

Wyatt’s jaw dropped at the audacity, and he started to speak, but Anna only smiled.

“Of course.” She pulled off her sunglasses and handed them to him and proceeded to pose for pictures with all three women—even going so far as to have Wyatt take the pictures, who valiantly restrained himself from throwing the phone overboard. Anger was a slow burn inside, churning in his gut, but alongside it was a complete and utter feeling of helplessness. Judging by this incident and her reaction, Anna was accustomed to people acting like this toward her—the nasty comments, the assumptions of who she was. Who helped her in those cases, and why wouldn’t she let him run interference? It was as if she had expected no one to be on her side, to actually support her.

He watched her interactions, how she graciously signed autographs for the nasty crew, who he would have tossed aside, and a few other people who shyly stepped up, even taking pictures with them. Throughout it all, she was pleasant and kind, a steady smile on her face, no hint of any emotion beyond graciousness and kindness. Her face was as smooth as a lake surface, no emotion rippling across it, even though he sensed tension in her muscles, in the grip of her hand, in the set of her shoulders. But no one else could see it. As far as they knew, Anna Costado was the consummate actress, happy to sign all the autographs and pose for all the silly pictures anyone wanted.

Finally, the last person walked away, their brush with fame over, no more excuses to stay in the area. Wyatt followed Anna over to her bags and dropped his duffel on the deck next to her stuff. She held out her hand for her sunglasses, and he held them over, checking out the strained look on her face, the dark circles under her eyes, the lines of stress that the makeup couldn’t hide from him.

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