Breaking Hollywood

by Samantha Towle

  “You’re the one who has a titty hard-on.”

  “A titty hard-on? What are you? Twelve? Oh, and you’ve got drool on your chin by the way.” She gives a smug look.

  I wipe my hand against my chin, which does in fact have drool on it. But it’s not mine; it’s that damn fucking goat’s. I dry my hand on the duvet.

  “That fucking goat,” I mutter.

  “She’s got a name,” she bites. “It’s Gucci.”

  “It’s a stupid fucking name.”

  “You’re stupid.”

  “Now, who’s acting twelve, Nipple Girl?”

  Her face is red with anger, her eyes flaring. She’s never looked hotter. My dick is as hard as steel under the covers.

  “Shut up, Hoppy!” She stamps her foot and then stomps off.

  “Is that all you’ve got?” I call to her back. “Aw, come on, Nipple Girl. Don’t go. I was just starting to have some fun.”

  She half-turns. “You can have fun alone.”

  She nods in the direction of my cock. I look down, and there’s a definite bulge showing under the covers. Seems it wasn’t hiding me as well as I thought.

  Oh well.

  “I’m going to make breakfast,” she says in a pissy tone. “Would you like one dose of arsenic in your coffee or two?”

  “I’ll skip the arsenic, thanks. Just sugar and creamer.” I give her a saccharine smile. “Will your nipples be joining us for breakfast?”

  Her eyes narrow at me. She looks sexy as fuck.

  “I don’t know. Is your erection going to join us?” Her face flames the second she hears how that sounded.

  I burst out laughing. “Speedy! You dirty little pervert!”

  “I-I…” she stammers. “Ugh! Fine! Laugh it up, you big jerk!”

  She yanks open my door.

  “Aw, Speedy! Don’t go!”

  I can’t breathe; I’m laughing so much. Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard.

  Hard.

  And, now, I’m laughing even more.

  “Do you want breakfast or not?” she snaps, arms fitted tight over her chest.

  I calm my laughter, taking some deep breaths. “Don’t worry about breakfast,” I say, still a little breathless. “Tate’s coming, and he’s bringing breakfast with him.”

  “Fine. You still want coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  She walks out the door.

  I call behind her, “Don’t forget to put a bra on. Wouldn’t want you poking out Tate’s eyes with those nipples of yours!”

  “Go to hell!” she yells as she stomps down the hall.

  I hear her bedroom door slam, and I burst out laughing again.

  Ava

  “Um, what are you doing?”

  I stop with the spoon midway to my mouth and look up at Gabe.

  God, he looks good. The jackass.

  He hasn’t shaved in days, so he’s covered in sexy stubble, and his hair looks like he just ran his fingers through it. He’s wearing athletic shorts again, as it’s all he can wear with the boot on his leg, and a running vest on top. He’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

  Shame he’s a jerk.

  “I’m eating breakfast.”

  His brows draw together. “I told you that Tate was bringing breakfast.”

  I put the spoon back in the cereal bowl. “Yeah, but I thought that was just for you guys.”

  “He always brings enough food to feed a small army. There’ll be plenty for you.”

  “Oh. Okay. Thank you.” I feel really warm at the idea that he’s including me in breakfast with his brother.

  He removes the crutch from under his arm and leans against the counter. “Where’s psycho goat?” he asks, looking around like Gucci’s going to jump out and attack him at any minute.

  “Gucci is out on the terrace.”

  “Shitting?”

  “No. Enjoying the sunshine.”

  “Talking of sunshine, why are you dressed like it’s winter?”

  I glance down at my sweater and then back up at him. I narrow my gaze at him. The bastard knows why I’m dressed like this. I wanted to cover up well after Nipplegate.

  I’m wearing a padded bra. It makes my boobs look bigger, but at least it keeps the nips from showing. And, just to be doubly sure, I put a knit sweater on. And jean shorts because it is warm out there, so I’m staying cool where I can.

  “Just keeping the girls covered. Wouldn’t want to have any more showings and give you another reason to be a pervy jackass.”

  His mouth spreads into a grin. “Aw, Speedy. I was just playing with you. Don’t cover up on my account. I wouldn’t want you to sweat to death.”

  “I won’t.” I sit up and fold my arms over my chest. “I’ll be perfectly fine.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do. And here’s your coffee.” I slide over the cup of coffee I made him, and I pick my own up, cradling it in my hands.

  He takes a sip and then puts it down. Using his crutch, he leans over and opens a cupboard where he pulls out a bottle of scotch.

  I watch as he pours a good measure into the coffee. Then, he puts the bottle back into the cupboard and takes another drink of coffee. A gulp this time.

  He sees me staring at him.

  “You want to make your coffee Irish?” he asks.

  “You used scotch. Wouldn’t that make it Scottish?”

  His lips press together in a smile. “Someone’s snarky this morning.”

  I raise a disapproving brow. “Don’t you think it’s a little early to be making coffee anything of the European type?”

  His eyes darken, not looking impressed. “If I wanted to be nagged on the regular, I’d get married. I’m not, so I’ll make my coffee however the fuck I want.” Taking his coffee with him and leaving behind one of his crutches, he heads out of the kitchen.

  He’s right. I shouldn’t be interfering in how he lives his life.

  It’s not like I have anything to be singing about.

  Lost my job, ran over a movie star with my car, homeless. Yeah, I should keep my opinions to myself.

  Grabbing the bottle of scotch, I pick up my coffee and go into the living room. I see Gabe through the window, sitting out on the terrace. He’s smoking a cigarette.

  Gucci is lying out by the pool. She looks like she’s sunbathing. All she needs is a towel and a bathing suit, and she’d be good to go.

  I wonder if you can get bathing suits for goats.

  I go outside and sit on the lounger next to him.

  “Sorry,” I say. “I’ll keep my opinions to myself from now on.”

  He doesn’t look at me. The only response I get is a nod of his head.

  I put my coffee down on the lounger and pour some scotch into it. I put the scotch on the floor.

  When I look at Gabe, he’s watching me with mild amusement.

  “I thought it was too early to be making things Scottish.”

  “Clearly, you’re a bad influence. And I figured, if you can’t beat him, join him.”

  His lips lift at the corner. “I’m all for kinky, Speedy, but beating’s not my thing. Now, a little light spanking, and I’m your man.”

  Gabe spanking me? Yes, please.

  I laugh, despite myself. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “It’s my best feature.” He grins. Putting his cup to his lips, he takes a drink.

  I do the same. And then I start coughing. “God, that’s strong. I think I put too much in.”

  Gabe laughs.

  I like the sound of his laugh. It’s raspy and deep. Like it comes from somewhere hidden deep inside him. But I like it most when it’s me making him laugh.

  I sit back with my coffee and stare out at the view.

  It’s lovely up here.

  And hot.

  The sun is beating down, and I can feel myself starting to sweat. This sweater really was not a good idea. Maybe I should change into a T-shirt.

  Gabe sighs li
ghtly and leans back on the lounger, staring up at the sky. He takes a drag of his cigarette. I watch him. I see just how dark the skin surrounding his eyes looks. I didn’t notice before.

  “You look tired,” I say gently.

  He blows the smoke from his mouth and then turns his head to look at me. “You would, too, if you had been woken up by a head-butt from a goat.”

  “I didn’t mean it as a criticism.” I hold my hand up in surrender. “I only mean it as a concerned employee. And I am sorry about Gucci. I’ll make sure she stays out of your room.”

  He takes another sip of coffee. “I didn’t sleep well,” he tells me.

  “No? Why not?”

  He stares at me for a long moment. So long that I start to squirm under his penetrating gaze.

  Then, he looks away, over at the skyline, and he takes another pull on his cigarette. “My foot was bothering me.”

  “Gabe…I know you said you don’t take painkillers, but maybe you should consider it.”

  “No.”

  “It would help you sleep.”

  He quickly sits up. “For fuck’s sake, Ava! I said no.”

  This is only the third time he’s called me Ava. But I don’t get the warm shivers this time.

  Hearing him say my name in anger is the slap I needed. I told myself I’d stop interfering in his life, and here I am, doing it again.

  “I don’t mean to interfere. My intentions are only ever good. But I am sorry for pushing. I’ll do my best to stop sticking my nose in where it’s not wanted.” I start to chew on my thumbnail.

  Leaving his cigarette between his lips, he breathes heavily through his nose and rubs his hand across the back of his neck.

  Feeling like I should leave him alone, I pick my coffee up, ready to go.

  He takes the cigarette from his mouth. “A good friend of mine…he had an injury a while back. Got hooked on painkillers. I saw what he went through. It wasn’t pretty. That’s why I won’t take them.” He leans forward and flicks the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray by his lounger.

  “Shit. I’m sorry. Is your friend okay now?” I lean over, pick up the ashtray, and place it on the lounger in front of him.

  He gives me a grateful smile.

  “Yeah, he’s fine. But it was hard going there for a while.”

  “Well, he’s lucky that he has you as a friend. But, Gabe, just because your friend got addicted doesn’t mean you would though. Millions of people take pain medication every day without getting addicted.”

  “I know.” He sighs. “And I have taken pain medication in the past—for headaches, you know.” He glances at me.

  There’s a strange sort of vulnerability in his eyes that I haven’t seen before. It makes me want to hold him.

  “But I just don’t want to risk it. People in my line of business are well-known for their addictions.” He gives a sardonic look.

  “Sure. I understand. And I’m sorry for pushing the subject.”

  “It’s fine, Speedy.”

  He gives me a soft smile, and our eyes lock.

  My skin starts to tingle under the weight of his stare. The breeze blows, kicking up my hair. And I see as his eyes change from dark brown to almost black. An ache starts to form between my legs. My breasts suddenly feel heavy.

  And I somehow seem to be closer to Gabe. Like my body moved without informing my brain.

  “Gabriel,” I softly say his name.

  And those dark eyes rage like fire.

  “Gabe! I’m here! Where the fuck are you?”

  I jerk back from Gabe at the sound of the male voice.

  “On the terrace,” Gabe calls to him, seeming unfazed.

  Tate appears through the door, wearing a white T-shirt, dark blue shorts, sneakers, and Ray-Bans over his eyes. He looks really different from the last time I saw him when he was wearing his white doctor coat and scrubs.

  “Hey, Ava. Good to see you again.” He smiles at me. “How’s the patient?” He jerks his head at Gabe.

  “Frustrating. Annoying. Bitchy. Aside from that, he’s fine.” I give a light, teasing smile even though, inside, I feel anything but light. I feel like I’m about to climb out of my skin.

  “Funny. Speedy’s a comedian nowadays,” Gabe says dryly.

  “Are you joining us for breakfast?” Tate asks me, holding up a brown bag with the name of some deli on it. “I brought pastries and muffins.”

  “Sounds delicious. Sure, I’ll join you, if you don’t mind?”

  “Course I don’t. I’ll just grab us some plates.”

  “I’ll get them,” I say, getting up. “Would you like a coffee?” I ask Tate as I move past him.

  “Coffee would be great.”

  “Gabe? Refill?”

  “Sure.” He drains his coffee and hands me the cup.

  “Scottish?” I ask him.

  He smiles. I feel that smile everywhere.

  “American’s fine.”

  I grab the bottle of scotch from the floor and take it back inside with me.

  I rinse my and Gabe’s cups out and get a fresh one for Tate. I pour out three coffees and put them on a tray with creamer and sugar, as I’m not sure how Tate takes his coffee. I get three small plates, some cutlery, and napkins and put them on the tray as well.

  When I go back outside, they are sitting at the seating area. Gucci is sitting on Tate’s lap. Well, she’s laid out on him, and he’s rubbing her belly.

  “You’ve met Gucci.” I smile. “I think she likes you.”

  My little hussy is rubbing herself all over the doctor.

  Seems us Simms women have a thing for the Evans men.

  “Yeah, it’s just me she hates,” Gabe mutters.

  “She does not hate you,” I tell Gabe as I take the seat next to him.

  “I’m just really fucking loveable.” Tate smirks.

  “That’s why you haven’t gotten laid in two months.”

  Tate’s eyes briefly flick to me. I avert my eyes and make Gabe’s coffee.

  “It’s called being busy with work, brother. And it’s not like you’re getting any at the moment, so don’t be giving me shit.”

  They’re talking about sex. I start to get hot again. And it’s not just because of this fucking sweater.

  I hand Gabe his coffee.

  “The only reason I’m not getting some is because of this fucking thing on my leg,” Gabe says to him.

  And, now, I’m thinking about sex. With Gabe.

  Good God.

  “Tate, do you take creamer and sugar?” My voice is high-pitched. I clear my throat.

  Gabe chuckles lightly next to me.

  “Just creamer,” Tate tells me.

  I make Tate’s coffee and hand it over.

  I pick my black coffee up and take a sip when Gabe says, “Talking of sex, Speedy showed me her nipples this morning.”

  I almost choke, and coffee sprays from my mouth.

  I slap a hand over my mouth, and my head whips around to Gabe. My eyes are as wide as saucers.

  The bastard is grinning.

  I grab a napkin and start to dry my mouth, hand, and then the table. “God, I’m so sorry, Tate.”

  “You didn’t get the food. It’s fine.” He smiles, but I can tell he’s dying to laugh.

  Gucci hasn’t moved an inch from her spot on Tate’s lap.

  I turn back to Gabe, who’s still wearing a winning smile that I want to wipe from his gorgeous face.

  “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “Me? What did I say?”

  I open my mouth to say it, but then I realize, that’s exactly what the big jerk wants. He wants me to say nipple in front of Tate.

  The perverse asshole.

  “There’s something seriously wrong with you.” I shake my head and turn back to Tate. “Was he dropped on his head as a baby?”

  Tate laughs. “Quite possibly.”

  “Well, I think you should get him tested. I’m pretty sure he has mental problems.”


  “Speedy?” Gabe’s voice prickles the back of my neck.

  I slowly turn to look at him. My eyes are like lasers burning a hole in his skull. “What?”

  He dips a nod at my chest. “You’ve got coffee on your sweater. You might want to change it.” Then, he smiles big as he picks up a muffin and takes a big bite.

  I want to kill him. Dead.

  I hope he chokes on that muffin.

  Gah!

  I need to move out of his apartment, and the sooner, the better. Before the hot bastard drives me insane.

  Ava

  I’ve been living here for three days so far, and it’s been pretty much more of the same.

  Gabe seems to be getting crankier as the days go on. Honestly, I think he needs to get out. He must be going stir-crazy. I know I am. I’m used to going out to work every day, so working and living in the same place is driving me nuts.

  I keep making excuses to go out just to get some air and sun on my skin. I’ve been to the store about a hundred times already.

  Gabe’s in his office at the moment. He said something about calling his manager.

  I’m on the terrace with Gucci, and I’ve drunk three cups of coffee already. I’m starting to get a caffeine twitch.

  Gucci loves it out here. She seems to be a sun queen. I am worried about her spending so much time in the sun though. It can’t be good for her skin. I hope goats can’t get skin cancer.

  God, it’s warm today. I gaze at the swimming pool. I haven’t been in yet.

  Maybe I’ll go in today. Once Gabe’s done with his call, I’ll see what he needs me to do, and if nothing, then I’m getting my bathing suit out and taking a dip.

  I hear the buzzer go on the internal intercom.

  Knowing Gabe’s busy and not the fastest on his feet at the moment—well, foot—I get up to go into the living room and pick up the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Miss Ava.” It’s Harry. “The cleaners are here.”

  “Oh. Do you know if they are scheduled to come today?”

  “Every Monday and Friday,” Harry tells me.

  “Oh, right. Well, send them on up. Thanks, Harry.”

  I replace the receiver and then look around the place. It’s pretty tidy. I’ve been keeping on top of it, but I still walk around, tidying things up before the cleaners arrive. I move the sports magazine that Gabe left on the sofa to the top of a neat pile on the coffee table. I take his empty coffee cup into the kitchen and put it in the dishwasher.