“Thank you for being honest with me, Mel—ahem, Issa. I appreciate that.”
She gave me a sweet smile. “I’m rooting for you two, Sam. You guys make a good couple. Things will get better in the next few months, I promise, and then you won’t have to keep each other at arm’s length in public. The longing looks between you two alone are killing me.”
“Ohmygod!” I covered my face with my hands. “And I thought we were being subtle.”
She stifled a laugh. “Hugh is a great actor, but it’s obvious he can’t help himself around you.”
“Now I’m worried everyone sees what you see,” I said with a sigh.
“Nahhh, they have no clue,” she said reassuringly. “It’s just that I’m good at figuring people out. I think it’s because of my gaydar,” she added with a cheeky smile and a wink.
Hugh
“Can I ask why you’re so crabby today?” I opened my eyes to find Sam staring at me, eyebrows raised in question. Her brown eyes were as sweet as ever, but felt a little disconnected.
“Am I?” I lied, my voice colored with a mix of surprise and confusion.
“Um, yes, you have been. I have been trying to talk to you all morning, but you’ve hardly listened to anything I said. What’s going on?” She smiled at me, but her smile fell when she saw the distraught look in my eyes. Her lips pressed into a straight line, and she frowned. I didn’t want to alarm her, but I had been distracted; I had a lot on my mind. Between filming, the exorbitant requests coming from the network about upcoming TV appearances with Melissa, and my secret relationship with Sam, I felt a bit stressed.
On top of that, I’d had a conversation with my brother Declan about Sam the night before. When I mentioned her sister Mira, he said something about a scandal they were both involved in some time ago. He couldn’t remember exactly what it had been about and hadn’t elaborated, so we’d moved on to a different subject—my growing ego (his words), to be exact. After I hung up the phone with him, I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said about Sam and Mira. I had never been curious about her past, and I hadn’t asked her any questions about her ex-boyfriend or why she’d decided to come work in Scotland. I wanted to get to know her, but I wanted her to tell me about her life in her own time, on her terms. Even so, after the chat with my brother, curiosity got the best of me.
I did something I hadn’t done until then: I looked her up.
What I had read about her recent love history troubled me, but it wasn’t because of what had happened. Well…yes, it was in part because of what she’d done. Admittedly, I was a bit surprised by what I’d discovered, but more than that, I was perplexed as to why she hadn’t said a word about it.
Why was she trying to hide it from me? She didn’t strike me as a liar, but I could have been wrong. I looked up to her and finally managed to answer.
“Dinna worry, Sam. I just couldn’t sleep very well last night. You should never have left my bed,” I told her softly.
“You know I did it only because I had to,” she whispered softly.
“If we talked to Nora about it, maybe I could have you stay the night without having to be paranoid all the time.”
“You would be okay with everyone knowing about us on set? How are you supposed to make people believe you and Melissa have something going on if you’re seen around with me?”
“I know.” I hesitated, and then I decided to change the subject. “Are ye going to the Halloween party? The one the guys from the crew are throwing?”
“I am. Cecilia is making me go. She said that since it’s my birthday and we have a day off the next day, I can’t say no.”
“Your birthday is on Halloween?” I asked, stifling a laugh.
She closed her eyes and nodded slowly, looking bashful.
“You mean not only is your name Samhain, but you were born on the night of Samhain? I’m starting to think it wasn’t much of a coincidence your mother gave you this name, Sam.”
She let out a loud sigh and rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it, man.”
“Are you sure you’re not a witch?” I asked her with a smirk.
“Don’t even go there,” she replied with a gleam in her eyes and a half-smile.
Sam
“What is this?” I asked Cecilia, looking at the garment she’d handed me in horror.
“Don’t be so bloody difficult, Sam! This is what you’re wearing tonight.” The tone of her voice was defiant, and she rolled her eyes at me.
“Good grief, Cece! You really drive me crazy sometimes.” She looked at me quizzically, and I let out a loud breath. “Let me rephrase and make myself clear: you’re bloody crazy if you think I’m going out there wearing this.”
“Why the hell not? You’ll look amazing in it!”
“My boobs are going to spill out of this.”
“You’re mental. Your curves are going to look ahhh-mazing in that outfit,” she corrected me. “Come on! I have been excited about this since I bought the bloody costume.” I shook my head, shutting down her request. Her pleas were not going to get her anywhere.
There was no way I was going to the Halloween party dressed as Wonder Woman. It wasn’t that the costume was bad—it looked well made, and it resembled the latest version of the Wonder Woman uniform, the one worn by Gal Gadot in the upcoming Wonder Woman movie—it was just too much, or perhaps more accurately, not quite enough.
“I could never wear this. It’s too…skimpy. I might as well go out in my underwear.”
“That is exactly the point. Go out there in the sexiest outfit ever and show Hugh what he’s missing.” I had remained mum about Hugh with Cecilia, but she didn’t believe there was nothing going on between us. We tried to keep our flirting to a minimum in front of other people, but there was only so much we could hide. She teased me regularly about him, and I would just repeat over and over that it wasn’t true.
I hated lying to her, but it was for the best. Plus, arguing with her was good practice in case someone else asked me what was going on.
“Hugh’s not into me.”
Laughter erupted from her, the sound echoing in our living room. She was having fun at my expense, pointing at my face. I rolled my eyes and waved dismissively. When she finally stopped cackling, she said, “I’m not blind, Sam. He fancies you. It’s impossible to miss.”
“He does not fancy me. We’re friends,” I said with a shrug.
She laughed. “Pffff! Sure, because friends always undress each other with their eyes. You’re going to bloody deny it? There’s so much electricity between the two of you, sometimes I think I might get electrocuted just from standing nearby.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m not and you know it,” she said, adjusting her red wig. My roommate looked badass dressed as Black Widow, and she hadn’t bought her costume in a store. She had somehow gotten someone from the costume department to help her with the task, and it looked beautiful. She made a great Natasha Romanoff. The jumpsuit hugged her curves, but she was way more covered than I was.
“You look amazing, by the way,” I told her.
“Don’t try to butter me up, Sam. It’s not going to work. You will walk out of here dressed as Wonder Woman,” she said in an angry tone.
“It’s not fair that you’re going to wear more fabric than I am. Why do you need to be Black Widow? Why can’t you be Wonder Woman?”
“Duh. Number one, I don’t have the boobs to fill that,” she said, pointing at the costume in my hands, “and two, Oliver is dressing up as The Hulk.”
“Oh, really? Sounds like things are getting serious between the two of you.”
A bright smile stretched across her face, and she gave me a shy nod, but just a second later she glared in my direction. “Don’t try to distract me. Wear that costume. Seriously. You’ll look beautiful. Besides, it’s your birthday. Don’t you want to look good?” She started muttering 50 Cent’s “In Da Club” while swinging her hips and throwing her arms up in the air.
I sighed. “It’s just that my take on Halloween leans more toward scary and less toward sexy kitten.”
“Are you sure you’re from LA?”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I am pretty sure,” I joked. “Why?”
“Because you’re nothing like the other LA girls I’ve worked with. You’re so…shy and buttoned up. Are you against wearing skimpy Halloween outfits?”
I glared at her. “First off, I am not shy and buttoned up. Second, I am not against skimpy Halloween outfits. I wore them—about a decade ago—and outgrew them.”
“Do you want to go as a scary witch? Is that what you really want to do? How are you going to make your man’s jaw drop?”
“I was thinking more sexy witch, not scary witch…and I’m not trying to win anyone over—”
“You’re impossible. Hurry up and get dressed,” she said, tapping her wrist as if she were tapping a watch, even though she wasn’t wearing one.
“Oh, gosh, you’re such a pain. By the way, did you check the weather? The last thing I want to do is go out in this thing.”
“I swear, sometimes you are such a pussy. Wear the damn thing! If not for you, do it for me!” she insisted.
I suddenly felt like giving up. I knew I wasn’t going to win this round—Cecilia could be incredibly persistent.
I had spent the last few weeks in thermal clothes, boots, and heavy socks. Despite loving makeup, my morning routine was simple. I had no desire to wake up earlier than I had to just to apply a bunch of stuff on my skin. Usually I would shower, wash my face, apply some hydrating cream, some foundation and concealer, and a couple coats of mascara. Getting ready for the party took me back to the life I’d had in LA for a second.
It felt like years ago; my days were so different now. It was hard to believe just three months before I had been hanging poolside at my sister’s house. I applied some gold eye shadow, eyeliner, mascara, and fake eyelashes. I put some bronzer on my cheeks. I admired myself in the mirror; I looked mysterious and badass. I put on what I had been given and sighed, thinking about the fact that most likely I wasn’t going to see the man who made me all hot and bothered. He had decided it would be best not to show up to the party, even though he’d been invited. Hugh said he knew he was going to have a hard time staying away from me, and we couldn’t afford to get caught, not before we talked to Nora and tried to get her on our side. Every time I heard him talk about that, I grimaced. If we talked to Nora, I’d have to tell him the truth. It was getting hard to harbor my secret, but I wasn’t ready for our bubble to burst. I wanted to live in it a little bit longer.
The time we had together was never enough.
As I looked at myself in the mirror, I realized how much I wanted to see him…how much I wanted him to see me. All I could think about was the way his fingers touched me. I fantasized about the two of us, tangled up in the darkness, unable to get enough of each other. Each time I looked at him, I could only see longing, not regret. I knew he was trying to behave, but I was tired of having to hide the way he made me feel.
I told myself to stop thinking about him and think about channeling Diana Prince.
As much as I hated to admit it, I made a pretty good Wonder Woman. I applied some shimmery body lotion on my chest, shoulders, and arms, and it gave my skin a certain superhero glow. My boobs fit—barely—and magically, there was no spillage elsewhere. Still, it was a very look-at-me outfit, and I was so not that girl. My strengths lay in sexy understated outfits that still left some room for mystery.
For my own sake, I sucked it up, and Cecilia’s face beamed with joy as I came down the stairs.
“At least let me take a picture of you, silly American girl. You can show your mum how gorgeous you look!” She snapped a few shots of me with my phone and then placed it in her handbag—my tiny clutch wasn’t made to hold a big-ass cellphone.
When we got to Jake’s place, the party was in full swing. He and Kirk (Jake’s roommate) had moved all the furniture, and everyone was dancing in the living room. There were far more people than I’d expected. Cecilia and I drank from her flask as soon as we got there, but decided to just dance instead of getting drunk. We didn’t need a massive hangover to recover from. The living area of the boys’ townhouse was semi-dark with just a few lampshades lighting the room. The dark ambiance was nice. Some guy I had never seen before was spinning records, and I wondered if Jake and Kirk had hired a DJ.
The party was far better than I’d thought it would be, and it was definitely better than hanging out at the pub as we had originally planned. People were dancing, and as Little Mix’s “Black Magic” came on, Cecilia pulled me to dance with her. Whoever was spinning the records knew what he was doing. He had the perfect mix of pop-dance songs alternated with less famous, edgy ones. I recognized a Banks song I loved, as well as a vintage Jennifer Lopez tune. We were dancing with a group of people we knew, but at some point, I lost track of Cecilia, who had gone to get something to drink with her Hulk. I kept dancing on my own, and surprisingly, no one bothered me—for a while, at least. Then, I felt someone brushing against my body, and when I opened my eyes, I saw a guy dressed in a Kylo Ren costume standing in front of me.
If I hadn’t known the way his aftershave smelled, I might have not recognized him. If I hadn’t known the way his knuckles felt under my fingers, I could have mistaken him for someone else, but as soon as he held my hand, I knew it was him.
What was he doing there? He had told me it wasn’t safe for him to be out, but now here he was. After staring for a good thirty seconds, I was able to catch a glimpse of his blue steel eyes through the netting of the mask. Even if I hadn’t recognized him by his hand or been able to see his eyes, I would have known it was him by the way he held me while we danced. We moved together just as we had in the gym. He placed his left hand on my waist, his fingers skimming the bodice of the Wonder Woman costume. I was dying to see the reaction on his face, but it was also intriguing to have him that close to me without anyone knowing who it was. He leaned down and lifted the helmet just barely so he could whisper in my ear.
“Are you trying to kill me, Sam?” he asked, digging his fingers into my hip.
“Obviously not—I didn’t even know you’d be here. In fact, you said you wouldn’t be coming. Why did you come?” I whispered in the direction of his ear.
“I wanted to wish you a happy birthday,” he murmured against my ear.
Oh. “Thank you.” I ran my hands down his broad shoulders and his strong arms, and when I reached his ass, I pressed him closer to me. I was wearing very little, and it felt like he was as well. Did he even have any pants on? It looked like he just had on the tunic of his costume. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my hip, and I rubbed myself against him even more. If this was what he wanted, I was going to drive him crazy until he begged for mercy.
“And I came because of your picture,” he said.
At least I thought that was what he’d said. My picture? What picture? The music had gotten a bit louder, and people were talking around us on top of that. I figured I must have misheard.
“Samhain, you’re torturing me,” he said in a strangled voice that I could barely hear. He had lifted the mask slightly again, and I could see his lips mumbling something, but I couldn’t make out what it was.
“I could say the same about you,” I told him, hoping he could hear me.
I wanted to kiss him right there in front of everyone. I wanted to make out and not care about the consequences, but he readjusted the mask on his face, and I dismissed the thought. It couldn’t happen. Not here, not now.
Why had he shown up? Why did he want to tempt me like this? A man in a Deadpool costume made his way through the crowd and brushed against us, pushing Hugh closer to me. I grasped his arms, straightening myself. Hugh took something out of his belt, took my hand, and placed the object in the center of my palm.
A key.
I glanced up to him, trying to see his eyes. He tipped
his mask up slightly again.
“Come,” he said in a low growl.
Oh, I’m planning on it.
Sam
I didn’t follow him.
I waited. I didn’t want him to know just how much I craved his company. I kept his key secure in the tiny wristlet clutch I had on me.
I danced with Cecilia, Blair, and Kirk. Jake was somewhere putting the moves on another girl. We drank whisky and toasted to my birthday. I was having fun, but I couldn’t stop thinking about getting a certain man out of his costume.
“Who was the guy you were dancing with a while ago? Where’d he go?” Cecilia asked, cocking one eyebrow. She looked around the room, and when she couldn’t find him in the crowd, she looked at me with a sly grin.
“I have no idea. He was wearing a mask. He never told me his name,” I lied.
“Really?” The corners of her lips tipped up; she didn’t look convinced.
It was time to make my exit—I had made my mystery man wait long enough.
“I’m going home,” I lied to Cecilia. “Can I have my phone?”
“You’re lying! You’re so lying,” she said with conviction.
I frowned. “No, I’m not. I’m tired, and I want to go home.”
“Your phone has been buzzing for a while. You’re not fooling me, Sam. Here.” She handed over my phone and gave me a coy smile.
Even though it was locked, she could still see all the texts from Hugh. Dammit. His name was saved as “H”, but still, bad move. I should have assigned him a different name. I unlocked the screen and read his messages. Then, I scrolled up and noticed a picture of me dressed as Wonder Woman in the message history along with a cheeky text. I hadn’t sent that.
Lost in Scotland Page 18
