SHE NEVER GOES OUT
“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” I run my fingers through my hair, pulling slightly at the back of my head to release a little tension I feel building. My girl never goes out.
“I’m going to Beau’s premiere tonight.”
“Is Jules going with you?”
“Of course, she’s going with me. I wouldn’t go by myself, silly.”
“Well, it’s for your brother, so I didn’t know if the whole family was going.”
“No, the whole house is recovering from the stomach flu, and they aren’t really into going to every premiere.”
I lean back in the chair and close my eyes. “Is this a big premiere?”
“Yes. Do you remember when I went to one a few years ago for the book series? It’s for that movie series, so it’s huge.”
“Yeah, I remember.” I hated she went to that. The whole time I was worried about all those Hollywood boys trying to pick her up. Now, I have to worry about Hollywood men. She deserves to go out and have a good time, but why can’t it be at some book club with a bunch of girls talking about their fictional boyfriends? Instead, she’s going out with Hollywood’s elite and every girl’s real-life fantasies. “I bet you look gorgeous,” I tell her, feeling bad my thoughts are somewhere other than focusing on my girl finally doing something fun.
“My mom bought me a really pretty dress. It’s the color of champagne, and so are my shoes. She even had her stylist come to the house to do our makeup and hair.”
I’m completely fucked right now. “You look stunning in anything you wear. You’re always the prettiest girl in the room. Make sure you take a picture so I can see what you look like when I come home to you.”
“I’m not going to be the prettiest girl in the room.”
“Yeah, you are. To me, no one exists but you.”
“Please, let me come see you,” she says. “I’m sure that girl forgot all about me.”
“I won’t risk it.” Every time I talk to her, she asks the same thing, and I feel like the biggest jerk for telling her no. I just can’t bring myself to let her visit me again. Especially knowing she lives by herself now—another thing that keeps me up at night.
“Jace, please, I miss you.”
“You have no idea how hard it is for me to be away from you, and just picturing you in a dress all made up is driving me crazy, but it’s all the more reason to keep you safe.”
“I pray every single night you get released early,” she whispers.
“I know you do, baby. I do, too. There’s a long line waiting for the phone. Have fun tonight, and take lots of pictures you can show me. And don’t let those Hollywood boys too close to what’s mine.”
“Okay, jealous boy,” sassiness says. Her voice does something to me I can’t explain. Everything about her has always mesmerized me, causing childhood insecurities to creep up, making me uneasy, and it doesn’t fucking help I had a nightmare about her wrapped up in some other guy last night.
“Do you love me, baby?” I murmur.
“I love you more than anything. You know that.”
“Who do you belong to, Shay?”
“This really cute boy that I gave half of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich to when I was kind of still a tween.”
“Since you were a tween? That’s a long time.” I close my eyes and picture the moment she broke her heart-shaped sandwich in two, giving me her heart in the process.
“Well, it was a long time ago, and he was so sweet. Then he grew up to be the sexiest man ever. So, I pretty much gave him my heart forever.”
“I hold your heart so close to me every day.” I swallow hard.
“I love you, swoony boy.”
“Have fun, pretty girl.”
“I only have fun with my boy,” she says so sweetly. “Can you call me in the morning?”
“I’ll call you after breakfast, around nine, and you can tell me all about your night.”
We end the phone call, and the entire night all I can picture is my girl in a beautiful dress and some fucking Hollywood guy trying to pick up my forever.
MOVIE STAR SMILES
“THIS IS CRAZY, RIGHT?” Jules says, staring out the limo window. She turns back to me with a flip of her hair. “How do I look?”
“Like a movie star.”
“I don’t want to look like a movie star. I want to look like a fashion icon.”
“Jules, lots of actresses are fashion icons.”
“No, Shay, they are dressed by fashion icons. They have ‘stylists.’” She air quotes.
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Of course, I’m right.”
“These actresses will be begging for Thorn designs very soon, and if they’re lucky, they will be dressed exclusively by Jules Thorn herself.”
“Well, you’ve been working toward it since we were like twelve,” I say, looking back out the window as we pull up to the curb.
“Goals, Shay. I have goals.”
“And I can’t wait to see you achieve your ultimate goal.”
“Aw, thanks, Starkie. You’re the bestest friend ever.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, playing with my charms. “Well, how do I look?”
“Put it this way. If Jace saw you right now, he would be freaking out with how hot you look.”
“I don’t look hot,” I tell her. She rolls her eyes.
“You look like a super model, and I have to tell you. It’s about time you started showing your full potential.”
“What do you mean ‘full potential’?”
“I just mean you’re naturally so beautiful, but you very rarely enhance your inner goddess.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Hot, Shay. It means you rarely show all you’ve got going on,” she says, pointing her finger up and down my body. “Jace wouldn’t be able to handle you like this.”
“Maybe he wouldn’t even like me with all this makeup on and this type of dress.”
“He’s a guy. He would love it, but knowing Jace, he would like it just for him and not for other guys to see.” I shrug my bare shoulder. “In fact, I know he would not like you looking like this in front of all these Hollywood heartthrobs. You’re like a movie star magnet right now.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Oh, look, there’s Chris… He’s so freakin’ hot,” she says, famously changing the subject.
“He’s so married, Jules.”
“Duh, Shay. Just because he’s married doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate his hotness,” she teases. I roll my eyes.
Limousines line the street as the stars of the movie start making their way onto the red carpet. “There’s Cocky Rocky,” Jules says as I swipe my pink gloss over my lips one more time before we get out.
“Who?” I ask, throwing my gloss back into my clutch, looking out the window. “Your brother.” She continues, “Oh, look. There’s M.I.L.A. standing right next to him. D.E.S.P.E.R.A.T.E.,” she enunciates with annoyance. “Thank God I didn’t wear that black dress I had planned. I would have been mortified if we had the same color dress on.”
“Be nice, Jules.”
“Don’t be a fun sucker, Shay.”
I give her a half-smile. She gets out of the limo, and every camera starts snapping pictures. Jules smiles brightly. Hollywood parties are different for her. She loves the attention. With confidence, she steps to the side of the limo so I can be escorted out, and we begin our walk down the red carpet. Beau sees us and waves us over. Jules stops at every camera as they snap pictures of her. They’re probably wondering if she’s a part of the cast. Jules is absolutely stunning in her bright blue dress, and she knows it.
“Beau,” she says, glancing at him. More cameras go off. Jules poses and smiles. “Julia,” Beau greets, not taking his eyes off her as she plays the cameras. She hates when he calls her Julia.
“We need to keep moving, Beau. E! News wants to talk to you,” Mila says, throwing Jules a dirty look.
He smiles and says, “Below the belt, princess.”
“Oh God,” Jules mutters under her breath, obviously remembering the poolside conversation.
“There’s your dad, Jules,” I tell her. She clears her throat and walks toward her dad with a huff. Removing myself from the loud, screaming fans and flashing cameras, I brush past the media line. This is absolute insanity. I stop in my tracks when I run into a hard body. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see—”
“I saw you. I didn’t mind the impending collision,” he says, reaching for me as I try to steady myself. My boy’s voice washes over me. “We’re going to have an epic collision when we finally make love again,” reminding me of the collision he plans on having with me when he comes home.
I glance up, and dark blue meets dark brown. My boy’s voice fades, as the guy I collided with comes into focus. Hunter Daniels—I just collided with Hunter Daniels! I step to the side, but he’s still holding my arm.
“I kind of need my arm back,” I say politely, looking down at my arm.
The cameras flash in our faces. He pulls me close and whispers into my ear, “Hunter Daniels.”
“I know who you are.” I smile wide as the camera in front of us takes a slew of shots. Tilting his head to the side, his sandy blond hair falls into his face. He pushes it back, and the cameras continue to flash. I can’t help it. I’m frozen as I watch him glide his fingers through his hair.
He pulls me close and looks down as he says, “I had to gel it back tonight for the premiere, and it doesn’t want to cooperate with me.” He chuckles. It’s a low chuckle. One of those chuckles that sounds full of trouble. I smile to be polite, and then nervously, I look up at his hair. Errant blond strands make their way to his forehead, but all I see is jet-black hair.
“Well, it looks nice,” I say. He has nice hair. I can admit that. A PR girl calls out his name, but he ignores her, licking his full lips that he is known for.
“You like my hair?”
“Excuse me?” I ask. He laughs again. “Um, can I have my arm back?” He gives it a squeeze and releases it slowly.
I turn to walk away as he asks, “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”
I look over my shoulder. “Shay,” I say considerately. I hear his name called to the media line again. “Looks like you’re needed.”
“Shay what?” He ignores the person calling out to him. I stop and start to turn around, but he’s in front of me before I can say my last name. “Shay what?” he asks again.
“Shay Stark,” I nervously say, earning a Hollywood-worthy smile from him. He has a dimple in his left cheek. It’s one of the first things young girls went crazy for when he first showed up on the scene as a recording artist when he was a teenager. He still records, but he does a lot of movies now, too.
“As in Beau Stark’s sister?”
“Yes.”
“Nice to meet you, Shay Stark.”
“Nice to meet you, Hunter Daniels.”
A girl with a clipboard walks up to him in frenzy, saying, “Hunter, we need you in the media line.”
“Are you going to the after party, Shay?” he says, raising his right eyebrow. Another thing he’s known for in Hollywood. Okay, I see why all the girls love him and plaster their walls with posters of his face. His lips, his dimple, and that raised eyebrow kind of put you in a Hunter Daniels’s trance. It’s kind of weird having him completely in my personal space right now.
“I-I’m not sure,” I stutter.
“Oh, well, I hope you come,” he says. I look away with guilt. “Don’t let those Hollywood boys near what’s mine.” Nervously, I hold on to my heart charm as my boy’s earlier reminder on the phone rings clear.
“Maybe,” I tell him. He smiles again and then gets whisked away by a very frantic PR girl. Without a second thought, I make my way into the theater as Jules comes prancing up to me, all smiles.
“Did you know that your brother is very chummy with Hunter Daniels these days?”
“How would I know that?”
“Oh, that’s right. You don’t leave the house anymore.”
“Don’t be feisty, Jules.”
“Well, tonight we are letting loose. We’re young, wealthy, and already Hollywood starlets. I want to have fun with my best friend, and before you say anything, I know Jace would want you to, so please let go for tonight.”
I don’t agree with her. Jace would be so pissed right now. There’s no way I’m telling him about Hunter Daniels holding on to my arm like he just did. “Okay,” I say, earning a very excited bite to her perfectly painted lips. I give her my best smile, but as we make our way to our seats inside the theater, I know without a doubt, Jace would be livid by the way Hunter Daniels has not stopped staring at me.
THE LIFE I CAN’T GIVE HER
LONG LEGS AND HIGH-HEELED shoes fill me with dread. I love Shay so much, and the thought of someone else looking at what only I’ve ever had is almost unbearable. I can only imagine how beautiful she looks, so very different than the first premiere she went to when we were younger. She’s not a kid anymore. She’s a beautiful young woman, and I feel like punching the damn wall, knowing all those rich and famous guys are getting a glimpse of what I’m not allowing myself right now.
I’m protecting her. That’s what I keep telling myself, and in my heart, I know it’s for the best, but right now, I want to break out of this fucking place, swoop my girl up in my arms, and cover her up from all those damn wandering eyes. My arms burn, and sweat drips off my hair as I push my body to the limit, picturing coconut lips while I kiss cold concrete floors.
“Must be girl problems,” Reno says as I stand up, pushing my damp hair back off my face.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’ve been doing push-ups for almost an hour.” He sets his book down.
“My girl is at a movie premiere tonight.”
“So, you’re worried she’s going to get drunk and leave you for some famous actor?”
“First of all, she doesn’t drink, and more importantly, she would never cheat on me. I just hate the idea of her surrounded by all those Hollywood guys,” I answer, taking a break.
“You shouldn’t have taken away her visits,” he says. I throw my hair back and lift my shirt to wipe my face. “Hopefully, she doesn’t catch the eye of someone that wants company. That’s what happened to me. My girlfriend found me an inconvenience once she realized she had limited time with me, and next thing I knew, she found herself in the arms of another guy. I’m not saying that’s going to happen to you, but, you know, separation leads to loneliness, and there is always a guy willing to fill a void. Especially when he has a beautiful girl needing comfort.”
I stare at him blankly as my stomach twists in knots. “The day I met her, I knew deep within my heart that she was my one and only, and she has been my one and only, and I’ve been hers. Bonds are easily broken when it’s not really real, but when it’s real and truly meant to be, lines won’t be crossed, and love won’t be tested, because it’s written and unbreakable. I don’t believe in accidents happening, making a mistake when it comes to love. That’s a fucking copout. When it’s true and real, and so fucking meant to be, you won’t fail each other with another. You should know that by reading the Bible, Reno. Doesn’t it say love never fails?”
“Yeah, it does.”
“Shay and I are real, Reno. We won’t fail, ever.”
“You’ve never once wanted to swim in a different ocean?”
“Never have, never will. Why would I ever want to test the waters when I’m already swimming in the perfect sea?” Shay will always be the one, and I know in my heart she feels the same way about me. But, still I’m a guy, and the thought of anyone touching my girl or getting time with her away from me has my blood fucking boiling.
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AFTER PARTIES AND GUILTY CONSCIENCE
JULES STOPS THE SERVER for the second time since we walked into the after party. I tell the waitress I’m fine while Jules grabs another as she throws me a very dramatic stink-eye.
“She’s trying to be a fun sucker,” she tells the server who’s not much older than us. Her red hair and crystal blue eyes shine bright, but her demeanor screams “typical entitled rich girls” as she walks away from us.
“She was a bit rude. Don’t you think, Shay?”
“I’m sure she’d rather be enjoying the party than serving at it, Jules.”
“I know, right? I would hate to have to serve a party, but at least if she has to, she could do it with a smile on her face.”
“You don’t think maybe she realizes we aren’t old enough to drink? Maybe that’s why she wasn’t very nice. She probably didn’t want to get in trouble, and you are pretty demanding when you want something. You probably scared her.”
“I wasn’t scary, and I really don’t think we’ll get caught. We look just as old as Mila over there hanging on your brother.” She glances over at Beau.
“Okay, maybe you’re right,” I tell her, glancing at Mila leaning into my brother with a glass in her hand. She’s only a few years older than Jules and I.
“God, Mila Reynolds really rubs me the wrong way. She’s such a slut the way she hangs all over Beau in public.”
“Don’t be feisty, Jules,” I say, watching the redheaded server bounce from person to person as they take a drink off her tray without even making eye contact with her.
“Drink up, fun sucker.”
“This is our third drink tonight. I’m not being a fun sucker, and if we get caught, I’m going to cut your long blonde hair when you’re sleeping.”
“That’s good to know, because I’m having too much fun for you to suck the life out of it early, Starkie, and that’s crossing the line talking about my hair. You know my hair is my signature,” she says dramatically. “Do you remember when we went to that first after party, and I tried to sneak us champagne, but that old waiter would not leave the bar for half a second to give me time to grab a glass for us?”
Questionable Love (A Love Beyond Labels #2) Page 11
