Ghosted

“Dreams change,” he says. “The way I was living... I was miserable. I want my life back, and I’m taking it back, because I’ve wasted too much time. I’ll never give up on acting. It’s who I am. But it’s not all I am. I’m a father, and I want to be the man you thought I’d be. I’d be so much happier doing community theater, if it came to that, as long as I got to come home to you, than I ever was being Johnny Cunning without you. So if you want forever, goddamn it, I’ll be there.”

My heart, it hammers hard in my chest, viciously battering my ribcage. I want to say so much, but I don’t even know where to start. Guilt. Fear. Excitement. A whole swarm of butterflies flutter in my stomach. “Forever.”

He nods, whispering, “I promise.”

“Ta-da!” Maddie’s excited yell shatters the moment as she runs into the room, dressed in her Breezeo costume. We’ve been home ten minutes and she’s already abandoned the snowflake getup. “Look, Daddy! We’re the same!”

Jonathan laughs. “We are.”

“Come on,” she says, grabbing his hand and tugging on it, yanking him away from me. “We can play, ‘cuz you’re home now!”

Jonathan shoots me a conflicted look.

“Go on.” I wave him away. “Go have your fun without me.”

He manages to sneak a quick kiss before Maddie drags him to her bedroom. They play for hours, stopping only to grab sandwiches for dinner.

Darkness has fallen by the time Jonathan resurfaces, cornering me in the kitchen. He wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses my neck. I hum as tingles flow down my spine. “You done playing Breezeo now?”

“I’m just getting started,” he says, turning me around so I’m facing him. “Maddie’s asleep, so I think it’s your turn to have a little fun. I remember promising once that I’d do whatever I could for you to someday see me in this costume.”

My face grows warm. “You remember that?”

“Of course,” he says. “It’s the whole reason I auditioned.”

“You told me your manager talked you out of that.”

“He did, but I said fuck it. He told me I had no shot in hell, but you believed in me, so I went for it, and look at me now.”

I can hardly bring myself to look at him. It’s impossible to wrap my mind around. It’s like my wildest fantasy is converging with reality and my brain can’t handle it. How is this real? I run my hands along his broad chest, feeling the slick material. “Do you get to keep this?”

“Not supposed to,” he says. “They might even call the police because I took it.”

“Hmm, then we probably ought to make good use of it while we can, huh?”

“Probably ought to,” he agrees.

I squeal when he grabs ahold of me, lifting me up. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I cling to him as he staggers to the bedroom. He almost drops me twice, the material so slick I nearly lose my hold, and I laugh when we fall onto the bed, him landing right on top of me.

He kisses me, mouth eagerly exploring as he strips me out of my clothes, hands touching and caressing every inch of my body. His fingers, they explore, making me a writhing mess with just a few strokes.

“You’re going to have to unzip the suit,” he says. “I can’t do it myself.”

“Hmm, so what you’re saying is if I refuse, you’ll have no choice but to keep it on?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“So why would I help you?”

“Because I can’t fuck you with the suit on,” he says, “and I’ve got a funny feeling you really want to be fucked right now.”

Those words set my body on fire, tingles engulfing every inch of my skin. I reach behind him, tugging on the zipper, pulling it down as far as I can get it.

He strips out of it, and I watch him, trying not to laugh. It takes him damn near ten minutes of struggling before he climbs back into bed.

“Kind of killed the mood, huh?” he asks with a laugh. “Destroyed over a decade’s worth of fantasies in just a few minutes.”

“That takes some skill,” I say. “But maybe, if you’re good to me, I’ll forgive you.”

“I can do that,” he murmurs against my lips, on top of me, inside of me, ever so slowly pushing in. He makes love to me, giving me all of him, in no rush for it to be over.

All night long, again and again, he brings me to the edge, leaving me a sticky, trembling mess. Daylight is already trying to peak through, the sky outside starting to lighten. I lay here, staring at the ceiling. My muscles no longer care to work.

Jonathan’s still at it, going strong, his lips trailing along my stomach, going lower and lower and lower, as he strokes my inner thigh, the light touch making parts of me tingle. I don’t know how he does it. Just when I think I’m done, when I think I can’t take anymore. “Oh god.”

His mouth is on me, his face buried between my thighs. I grasp his hair, shifting my hips, unable to stay still. A minute, maybe two, before he’s got me seeing stars. I squeeze my eyes shut, crying out as pleasure flows through me in waves.

Once I relax again, breathing heavily, he kisses along my inner thigh before biting down gently. Laughing, I swat him away as I clamp my thighs closed. I don’t even have the energy to put up a real fight.

“You’re definitely forgiven,” I whisper. “That was… wow.”

Laughing, he collapses onto the bed. “Thank god, because I’m exhausted.”

“So am I,” I say. “I don’t even think I can make it to the shower.”

“Me, either. Hell, I don’t even have any clothes I can put on. Can’t call Jack to make him get my stuff since I don’t have my phone.”

“Hmm, well, I know one way you might get ahold of him,” I say, grabbing my phone from the bedside stand. “I’ll call your sister.”

Before I can even try to make the call, Jonathan snatches the phone from my hand and tosses it behind him, throwing it right on the floor. “I don’t even want to think about him being somewhere with my sister at this hour. I’d rather stay naked.”

I laugh, snuggling against him, pressing a light kiss to his chest. “I love you, Jonathan.”

“I love you, too.” He wraps his arms around me before whispering, “You’re the queen, baby.”





Click. Click. Click.

The incessant flash of bulbs was bright and blinding as camera shudders went off in rapid succession, taking dozens of photographs every few seconds, immortalizing the moment. Hundreds—maybe thousands—of fans lined the metal barricades along the street in front of the famed Hollywood theater. People camped out for days, desperate to be a part of it, desperate to be there for the Breezeo red carpet.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Jonathan’s erratic heartbeat thumped and echoed in his ears. He had done enough events over the years that this should’ve been a breeze, but he found himself nervous. Not for himself, no… for her. The little girl who clung tightly to his hand, wearing a pretty pink dress her mother had picked out. It was her first time in Hollywood, first time being involved in that part of his life.

He didn’t want her to be overwhelmed.

“Johnny! Johnny! Over here!” People shouted from all around them, trying to get his attention. “This way! Turn to the left! On your right! Johnny, wait! Stop right there! Look up!”

They stopped to pose for more pictures after walking a few feet, and Jonathan bent down to her level, giving her a smile as the cameras continued to flash.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

She nodded, grinning, her blue eyes twinkling under the lights. “I’m being a snowflake again, so I can’t hear nobody.”

J.M. Darhower's books