My eyes prickle. “I can’t tell you.”
All the fight seems to drain out of him. His face pales. “I knew it. You’re in trouble, aren’t you?” My eyes are swimming, and vision blurs. “Let me help you, please. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Josie?”
Horrified, I whirl around to find Ace in my now open doorway. The concerned expression on his face is replaced by anger when Jude steps around me to confront him.
“What have you done to her, you son of a bitch?”
I grab his arm. “Jude, please don’t!” He shrugs off my hand, his fists white-knuckled at his sides. “And who are you, exactly?” Ace drawls, stepping outside the apartment and closing the door behind him.
“Someone who isn’t going to stand by while you take advantage of Josie.”
Ace manages to look bored. “And who says I’m taking advantage of her?” His eyes flicker to mine, brow raised in warning.
“Whatever you think you’re doing, it ends now,” Jude says.
“I’m not doing anything. Other than taking my girlfriend out for dinner,” Ace replies. “Are you ready?” he adds, “I’ve booked for eight. If we don’t leave soon, we’ll be late.” Jude may as well have left the room, for all the attention Ace pays him.
“She’s not going anywhere with you.”
“You don’t speak for her,” Ace reminds him.
Jude snatches up my hands. “Josie, please. We can figure this out.”
I smile up at him. Jude is my best friend, and I’m very likely about to lose him too. I try to convey how sorry I am with one look, and then I gently pull away from him.
“I just need to change,” I tell Ace. “I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”
Jude’s face crumples.
“You should go,” I tell him firmly. “Thank you for looking out for me, but it’s really not necessary.”
“In future, maybe you should call before you visit,” Ace adds darkly.
Jude snaps. He lunges for Ace, swinging his arm in a powerful right hook. Ace ducks easily, grabbing Jude’s wrist as his face thunders overhead and using his momentum against him. I rush forward as Jude crashes to the floor.
“Jude!”
“Don’t touch me!” he yells, pushing me away as I reach for him. He gets to his feet, and we stare at one another, neither speaking a word.
Ace clears his throat. “The clock is ticking, Josie,” he says. Jude gives me one last disgusted look and then shoves past Ace and into the elevator. The second the doors close, I burst into tears.
“You’re going to ruin your make up,” is all Ace says.
12
“I’m not getting on that thing,” I insist fifteen minutes later when Ace leads me to a black motorcycle in the underground lot. He hands me a black helmet with a neon orange lightning bolt emblazoned on the side.
“I don’t want to spend the night being blinded by camera flashes,” he says, “and no one will recognize you with this over your head.”
“I thought the whole point is to get you on the front page,” I retort. “Isn’t that how this works?”
“I think we’ve made enough headlines for one day.” He pulls the dark visor on his own helmet down.
I expected Ace to have booked at The Palms or any of the celebrity-favored eateries on restaurant row, but instead, we weave through traffic and head downtown. I cling to Ace’s waist, terrified with every lurch of the powerful engine.
When we pull up outside a quaint and quiet bistro, I’m begrudgingly relieved.
“You have helmet hair,” Ace tells me. Self-conscious, I run my fingers through my hair, trying to fluff it up. “Don’t worry, no one here will notice.”
We sit at a table set for two at the very back. Ace offers me the seat facing away from the other diners, and I accept it gratefully.
I order a glass of wine, Ace a chocolate shake. I raise my brow at that. “I’m driving,” he says by way of explanation.
I clutch my glass, missing the weight of Alex’s ring on my finger.
“So, tell me about Jude,” Ace begins once we’ve ordered.
I shrug, not wanting to discuss Jude with him. “He used to be my boss. Now we’re friends.”
“Did you and he ever…?” I throw him a filthy look which makes him chuckle. “No, then. Did he and Alex get along?”
“Not particularly.”
“He fought pretty hard for a man he doesn’t particularly care for.”
“He cares about me.”
“Point taken. And I assume that you haven’t told him about our little arrangement?”
“What do you think?”
“I think that you’re sulking and it doesn’t become you.”
“I’m not sulking.”
He refills my wine with a deft hand. “What are you going to have to eat?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Are we really going to do this again?”
“Fine.” I take the briefest look at the menu. The meals are simple and moderately priced. “I’ll have a salmon salad.” We both know there is no salmon salad on the menu.
Ace leans back in his chair, exasperated. “Why do you have to make everything so difficult?”
“You expect me to make this easy for you?”
“I expect you to admit defeat graciously.”
The waiter returns to take our order and Ace orders two portions of calamari with chipotle mayonnaise. I don’t tell him that I haven’t eaten mayonnaise since college. The camera is unforgiving, and I’ve spent the past few years on a perpetual diet.
We lapse into an awkward silence. Well, I find it awkward. Ace looks completely content, lounging in his chair like God’s gift to Calvin Klein.
I take a slug of my wine.
“What have you been doing since you left France?” I ask. “For work, I mean.”
His eyes are dark as they cut to mine. “A bit of this and a bit of that.”
I hold his gaze, refusing to let it go. Ace grins at me.
“I joined the French Foreign Legion. I even have a tattoo on my ass to prove it.”
“You are so full of shit.”
He takes a sip of water. “Yeah,” he admits, to my surprise. “I am.”
“You’re really not going to tell me?”
“What does it matter? You’re determined to think lowly of me, so why should I bother correcting you?”
“It’s hard not to think lowly of you when you’re blackmailing me for fame and fortune.”
“As opposed to Mr. Forbes List, who only wanted to make you happy, I suppose?” There’s a venom to his tone that is completely out of character.
“Don’t you dare compare yourself to Alex!” I hiss. “And besides, he’s rich and famous all on his own, without any help from me.”
“Agree to disagree.” He eyes me over his glass. “How did you meet?”
The abrupt question takes me by surprise. I sit back, my fingers fiddling with my napkin. “We met through a mutual friend. He set us up on a blind date.” Ace doesn’t respond. “We’ve been together for two and a half years.”
“You think you can really know someone in such a short space of time?”
“Yes.”
He pulls a face.
“Haven’t you ever been in love, Ace?”
“Once,” he replies darkly. “It didn’t work out.”
“What happened?”
“What do they say in the movies…” he pretends to think about it, “oh yes. She just wasn’t that into me.”
I flash him a wicked smile. “Smart girl.”
“She was.”
By the time our food arrives, the wine has relaxed me, if only slightly. I move onto water, not wanting to fall off the back of his motorcycle on the way home. I manage only a few bites before I push my plate away. Ace frowns, but I ignore him.
“Tell me more about this girl who broke your heart.”
He looks at me as if I’ve just grown two heads. “Are you serious?” he asks
when he realizes I’m waiting for an answer.
“Yes. I want to know. Call it morbid curiosity, not that there’s anything morbid about it. In fact, I want to send her a congratulatory card.”
“And what would it say, this card?”
I think for a second, tapping my finger to my top lip. “It would say, To the Woman who broke Ace’s heart. You are amazing. We should be friends.”
“Well, there you go then. Mission accomplished.”
Now it’s my turn to look confused.
“You really are an idiot, Josie,” Ace sighs, calling for the bill.
“You’re not making any sense,” I snap. The combination of wine and mayonnaise is curdling in my stomach.
“Jesus Christ!” Ace shakes his head in disbelief. “Let me spell it out for you, then. It was you, Josie.”
I blink up at him, all the air driven from my lungs.
“I wouldn’t get worked up about it,” Ace adds spitefully, “it was a very long time ago, and I didn’t know any better.”
“You were in love with me? When?”
Ace rubs at his jaw. “I’m pretty sure around the same time we made love, although it’s possible it started before then.” He arches his brow cynically. “You really didn’t know?”
My fragile hold on my temper snaps. “You left me,” I remind him. “If you had such strong feelings, why did you scuttle out before the sun came up and leave for Paris without so much as a text?”
“What?”
“You heard me. Do you have any idea how mortifying it was to wake up to an empty bed? I cried for a month, you heartless bastard!”
“Josie…” he shakes his head, his eyes wide with shock. “I didn’t leave you. I came back.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I did. I went to get you breakfast. But when I got back to your dorm, your roommate told me you’d gone out, and that you’d asked her to give me a message.”
“What message?”
“That you didn’t really want to deal with the whole morning after drama. I was leaving, and I’d considered changing my flight so we could work out what was happening between us, but she said you didn’t want to see me again.”
“She didn’t. She couldn’t have…” I rack my brain, trying to recall the details of that morning. Casey had been home when I came through from my bedroom. She hadn’t said a word to me about Ace.
“Hold on a minute. Are you telling me that all this time you thought I just up and left after that night, without so much as a second thought?” he doesn’t wait for my reply before he continues, his voice stricken. “Well shit. No wonder you think I’m an asshole.”
“Casey had a thing for you,” I whisper, remembering. Ace looks disgusted.
“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding sincere for the first time since this all began. “I should’ve known better.”
I swallow down the bitter lump in my throat and gather my wits. “Like you said, it was a long time ago.”
“Really? You’re just going to brush this off?”
“What do you expect me to do? You might not have been an asshole then, but you’re blackmailing me now. This doesn’t change anything.”
Something fierce and furious flashes across his face. “What if I wasn’t the bad guy in all of this?” he asks.
I think of Jude’s stricken face earlier, and Alex’s emotional texts. “But you are.”
The ride home is hell. I do everything in my power to avoid touching any part of Ace’s body, but it leaves me feeling vulnerable and terrified that I might fall. We are almost home when a car pulls out in front of us, and Ace swerves violently to avoid a collision. I scream, feeling my body tilting dangerously to the left. His arm shoots out to steady me, and I cling to it, chest heaving. The second we stop in the underground lot, he’s off the bike, whipping off his helmet.
“Are you okay?” he asks, helping me unbuckle my own. I nod, and his fingers brush the hollow of my throat.
I step away as if he’s burned me. “I can do it!”
Ace curses. He waits while I fumble with the clip. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks again when I’m finally free of the stifling helmet.
“I said I’m fine!” I shove the helmet at him. “But I am never getting on that death trap again.”
He follows me into the elevator. The space is too small, and I press myself into the opposite wall, trying to get as far from him as possible.
“Stop that,” he snaps.
I ignore him. Ace’s chest rises and falls with every breath. He’s furious, and he keeps his hands glued to his side as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with them.
“Screw it.” In the same instant he rams his finger against the emergency stop button, he rounds on me, blue eyes flashing. His hands are warm against my cheeks as he seizes hold of my face and before I can register what’s happening, his lips crush down on mine. He doesn’t wait for me to yield. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, hard and merciless. My head swims. I press my hands to his chest, intending to push him away, but somehow, I am gripping the front of his shirt and pulling him closer instead. Warmth blazes in my belly, spreading like wildfire through my body. My tongue clashes against his, and I arch my body into his, feeling the hardness of him press into me. The sound that escapes from my throat is barely human.
When he suddenly pulls away, I am left clinging to him, limp and breathless. Reality crashes over me. Tears of shame well in my eyes.
Ace turns his back on me, his shoulders heaving. I cover my traitorous mouth with my hand. I can still feel his lips on mine, worse, I ache for them.
Ace reaches over and releases the emergency stop, and the elevator continues upward as if nothing’s happened. As if my life didn’t just veer off its axis. Ace doesn’t look at me once as he leads the way to the apartment door, and, once inside, I rush straight to my room to soak Noodle’s fur with my tears.
13
On Saturday, we take Noodle for a walk to the park. We’ve barely spoken since the kiss in the elevator, but that doesn’t stop me reliving it over and over in my head. I kissed him back. After everything he’s done, I threw myself at him. Every time I recall how I pressed myself against him, a deep blush shames my cheeks. I haven’t heard from Jude, and my heart is heavy with his absence. I keep reminding myself that the only way out is through, and that the sooner Ace gets what he wants, the sooner he’ll leave me alone. Maybe once all this is over, I can try to put the pieces of my life back together.
“Do you want a coffee?” Ace asks when I let Noodle off the lead. I nod, and he saunters off toward the mobile coffee cart. I take a seat on a dark green park bench and pick absent-mindedly at the peeling paint.
“Miss Hudson?” The man looming over me is dressed in blue jeans and a navy sweater. I don’t like the look on his face. I’ve seen it once before, on an obsessed fan, and it ended with a restraining order.
I risk a glance at the coffee cart. Ace is in line, his broad shoulders towering over the girl behind him. “Can I help you?” I ask politely.
“I was wondering if I could get your autograph?”
“Sure. Do you have a pen?”
He shrugs, but the movement is too practiced, too obvious to be sincere. “I don’t. Maybe we could go into that café over there and borrow one? I could buy you a coffee?”
I am not going anywhere with this man. “I’m sorry, I’m actually waiting for my boyfriend.” I wave a casual hand toward the cart. The man’s expression changes instantly.
“It’s just a coffee,” he says through gritted teeth.
“I’m really sorry, but I can’t.”
“Is this how you treat your fans?” he’s dropping the act so fast I can barely keep up. “What, you think you’re so high and mighty that you don’t have a minute to spare for someone like me?”
I get to my feet. “I really think you should leave.” Hearing the jangle of her lead, Noodle comes running.
“Is this your dog?” his eyes flicker. Before I can den
y it, he’s scooped her up. Noodle growls.
“Please put her down.”
This time his smile is smug. “I will if you agree to that coffee.”
“I’m not going to do that. Please put her down, or I’ll call the cops.”
He gives me a withering look and starts to walk off.
“Dammit!” I follow, throwing a desperate look over my shoulder. I can’t see Ace anywhere. “Put her down!” I yell. I’m jogging now to keep up.
Realizing something is very, very wrong, Noodle starts to panic. I can see her tiny body squirming in his arms. Please, God, don’t drop her.
“Put the dog down.”
I’ve never been so relieved to see anyone in my life. Ace is standing a few yards away, blocking the path and cutting off the man’s escape.
“And what if I say no.”
“That would be your second mistake.”
“Oh really?” A sneer. “And what was my first?”
“Forgetting that wherever Jojo goes, the press follows.” He points toward the crowd of paparazzi that has gathered, their lenses trained on us.
“Please give her back,” I say, sensing his growing agitation. He’s got nowhere to go, and he knows it.
“You’re a bitch,” he hisses, shoving Noodle toward me. It’s not the first time I’ve been called that, and it certainly won’t be the last. I feel a rush of relief as Noodle leaps into my arms. “A filthy whore!” the man continues. Then he spits at me. Ace moves so fast it defies belief. In one rapid movement, he grabs hold of the man’s hand and twists, jerking his body until he has his arm pinned at an unnatural angle behind his back. The man gives a yelp of pain.
“Apologise,” Ace growls in his ear.
“Fuck you.”
Another savage twist and I swear I hear muscle tearing.
“I’m sorry!” he howls.
“Let him go!” I yell at the same time. Ace does, but not before placing a well-timed kick in his arse, sending the man sprawling face-first onto the grass.
The click of the hovering cameras blurs into one long endless loop. I don’t wait for Ace as I stalk off, but he appears beside me a second later, two coffees in hand.
Awkward in Print (Awkward #1) Page 6
