Page 120 of Heavy Shot

Rhiannon sighed and emptied her glass. "I am attracted to him." She shrugged helplessly.

"So, talk to him."

"Are you going to talk to her?"

"Rick didn't fuck your friend."

"That's very grown up of you."

His jaw tightened. "I don't know what I'm going to do. Maybe it's just better that it's finished. I really don't want the ghost of lovers past haunting my steps."

"Maybe it is best, but Thad, she did genuinely care about you. I can’t believe she would marry Kline, or pretend to, without talking to you. Well…maybe the timing was just wrong."

"I would say that's true. The timing was very wrong," he sighed, swirling the dregs of his drink in his glass. "I'm just going to give it some space for the time being. I can't do anything while I'm here, anyway. You really should talk toRick, though. It seems a shame that the two of you aren't even going to give it a go."

Rhiannon shrugged. "I'll think about it."

"You do that."

Rhiannon stood up, petted Thad's head and walked out of his room. Rick was coming up the stairs as she walked down the hall to her own room, and she offered him a small smile. "Tired of the crew?"

"They were tired of me. I'm the boss. They can't play with me there."

"They like you," she said, "you just need to loosen up a little bit. You have something of a reputation for a being a workaholic."

"That's because I am a workaholic," he said, chuckling. "You know that."

She nodded. "Yeah, I know that. I also know that you can be a little laid back and fun. Maybe you should let that side out a bit more."

He half smiled. "Maybe. We'll see."

"I guess we will," she agreed, opening her door. "G'night, Rick."

"Goodnight."

“Rhi?”

“Yeah?”

“Mistletoe,” he said, pointing up at the sprig someone had taped above her door and everyone else’s. “It’s a Christmas miracle.” He stepped forward and kissed her lips in one motion. When he drew back, his eyes were questions, so she stepped forward to answer, pulling him back into her room with her. They did not speak again, they didn’t breathe another word until Rick was in her bed, asking, “Like this?” as he stroked his fingers inside of her.

“Yes,” was the first syllable she’d managed to exhale. This was man. Not a boy. Not some actor who was worried about how he looked in the reflection of the mirror beside his bed. Not a fumbling date who’d had too much to drink. This was a solid man who knew exactly what he was doing and was taking his time to do it well.

When he had worn her out with sensation, he lay down beside her, stroking her hair, letting her spoon back against his chest. “I’ve been thinking,” he said quietly. “I said a lot of things I didn’t mean about your friend, mainly because I’d been jealous of Kline. Jealous he got to you first. And you being friends with Jill means Kline coming around, and I just made me see green. If Thad was dating Jill, more Kline. More Kline meant more opportunity for you to realize he was what you wanted. Not some stodgy producer who can’t put the phone down for five minutes.”

“Strange pillow talk,” she said dreamily. “But go on.”

“I’ve wanted to take you out since the Vanity Fair Party.”

“I think if you’d asked me that night, I would have gone with you.”

“That dress…”

She let out a throaty laugh. “Now you’ve seen the rest.”

“I’d like to keep looking, if you don’t mind.”

“Mind? I’ll be offended if you don’t.”

---