by Amity Cross
* * *
Looking at myself in my bathroom mirror, I turned this way and that, checking out my reflection.
Not bad, Dawson, I thought to myself. Not too bad at all.
I’d settled on a simple black dress that fell to just above the knee and a pair of black boots with buckles up the sides with three-inch heels on them. I’d even cracked out the hair straightener and ran it over my dark locks. To finish everything off, I put on Jude’s necklace, and it glittered underneath the downlights above me as I turned, drawing my eye.
Raising my hand, I trailed my fingers over the little charm and smiled before darting from the room and grabbing the little bag I’d bought the day before to stash all my things in for the night.
Starscape had booked out a popular nightclub in the center of Atlanta for the party. It turned out to be a couple of blocks from my place, so I walked over, hoping that my nerves would calm by the time I arrived. I was never one for dancing or going out in general, so I wasn’t sure that it would be my scene even though I knew most of the people there, but since I was Lux two point oh, I was giving it a go.
The early evening was still warm enough that I didn’t have to wear a jacket, so I held onto it, clutching the material against my chest like a shield. As I approached the venue, I noticed a group of people talking out the front. Recognizing them as crew members I’d seen around set, I approached, my stomach settling a bit, but as I neared, I realized Jude was standing with them, and my heart went out on a limb of its own and did a little somersault.
I hadn’t seen him since New York. We’d talked, but we hadn’t seen one another face to face. After the time we’d spent together skating in the snow, I felt more at ease with him than ever. The ‘too long, didn’t read’ version was that I was way past the point of no return. All these months, I’d fought and fought to keep him at arm’s length, and it had all been for nothing.
I was a goner. Totally and utterly.
I stopped a few meters away from the group of men on the footpath, and he glanced up. As his gaze met mine, Jude smiled, his lips pulling up on one side. It was his trademark cocky grin that had me and the rest of the female population swooning. Patting one of the guys on the shoulder, he excused himself and sauntered over to me.
He looked delicious in a pair of black jeans, wingtip shoes, and this tight, black, long sleeve dress shirt with the button open at the collar. With his hair messily slicked back, he may as well have just jumped off the end of a catwalk. Knowing that he probably rolled out of bed and slapped on the first thing he found in his closet only added insult to injury.
Coming to a stop before me, his smile spread. That sexy smile that had me turning to mush.
“Hey,” he said, his green eyes sparkling.
“Hey.”
His gaze raked over my body before returning to my own. “You look beautiful.” Reaching out, his fingers brushed my skin as he picked up the little silver letter L that hung from the chain around my neck. “I like this.”
Flushing, I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Thanks.”
He smiled and shook his head, obviously amused by my bashfulness. “You want to go in and grab a drink?”
“Sure.” Liquid courage sounded real damn good right about then.
Passing the security at the door, Jude led me inside where the volume of the music was beginning to rise. They seemed to be playing an assortment of rock and pop songs, and the bass reverberated through the floor, the rhythm pulsing through my feet and through my body. It reminded me of a nightclub called Billboard that Melody used to drag me to back in Melbourne. It wasn’t quite my scene. I much preferred alternative rock music to Top Forty hits of today, the noughties, and the nineties. Nightclubs had always reminded me of a human meat market, so I steered clear when I could. I was definitely not a one-night stand kind of girl.
Ditching my jacket at the coat check, I let Jude lead me inside, and as we moved through the venue, I noticed that a lot of people had arrived already, including a great deal of familiar faces from the cast and crew, and they were taking full advantage of the open bar. The drinks were flowing, the dance floor was filling up quickly, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. After all the work we’d been putting in this past year, it was no wonder they were keen to get a little loose. TV was a hard business.
Grabbing my hand, Jude pulled me close, breaking me out of my dazed perusal of the party.
“What do you want?” he asked, practically shouting in my ear so I could hear him over the music.
I shrugged. “What’s good?”
He raised his eyebrows. “What’s good? You’re not much of a drinker?”
I shook my head. “Nope. I usually stick to cider. It’s sweet.”
Laughing, he shook his head. “Sweet it is, then. Leave it with me.”
Turning away, he leaned over the bar. I wasn’t surprised at all when he was served immediately, but that was probably one of the perks of being famous. People wanted to bend over backward to please him in hopes of… Well, in hopes of getting something. Knowing how much he detested people sucking up like that, I glanced away, turning my attention onto the dance floor.
Noticing Candy in the middle of the fray, I smiled. Typical. She was dancing rather closely with Tate O’Connor, and I wondered when that had happened or if it was happening just now. They’d always been good friends, and she’d told me on many occasions how hot she thought he was. From the way they were draped over one another, pretty much dry humping to the music, it looked like her appreciation had turned into something more.
There was a tap on my shoulder, and a glass of what looked like white wine appeared in front of me.
“Try this,” Jude said.
“What is it?”
“Moscato,” he replied. “It’s sweet. If you don’t like wine, you’ll probably like this.”
Taking a tentative sip, the fruity taste hit my tongue, and I raised my eyebrows. He was right. It was sweet, not quite to the point of sickly, but still had a definite tang of alcohol.
“Good?”
I glanced at him and smiled. “Good.”
He pressed his own glass to his lips and took a sip of some kind of brown spirit.
“What’s that?” I asked, my writerly curiosity taking over.
“Whisky. Want to try some?” he asked with a knowing smirk.
“From the look on your face, I know I’m going to regret it, so no thanks.”
“Damn,” he murmured, leaning close. “I can’t fool you.”
Taking another mouthful of my Moscato, I stiffened as Jude pressed against me as someone passed behind him to get to the bar. It was a simple case of not being enough space, but as his body pressed against my side and his hand came to rest on my waist, I shivered. Noticeably.
He raised his glass and downed the rest of his whisky in one go before dumping the glass on a table next to us.
Leaning close, he asked, “Want to dance?”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m not plastered enough for that.”
“Another drink for the lady, then,” he retorted, tightening his grip on my waist.
“Another two, at least.”
Letting me go, he smiled wickedly and went back to the bar. Shaking my head, I rolled my eyes. Deciding to make a getaway, I darted through the crowd. Dancing with Jude Atwood? Wow. Talk about temptation on a grand scale.
Casting my gaze out across the crowd again, I caught sight of Tessa talking with some guy, and my smile faded. From the looks of it, they were flirting pretty heavily, and I wondered if she didn’t care about Jude anymore or if she was out to make him jealous. That was something I didn’t want to be in the middle of.
Deciding that I needed a couple of glasses of something to drown my sorrows in, I drank the rest of my wine and set the empty glass on a table beside me.
Turning, I almost smacked into Jude.
“No escaping, Lux Dawson,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.
Taking
the glass of wine from his hand, I drank half, and my head began to swim. I really was a lightweight.
“Damn,” Jude said. “I hope you remembered to have some dinner.”
“Yep.”
“Bottoms up, then,” he declared, gesturing for me to finish the drink in my hand.
I downed the last of the wine, and he took the empty glass from my hands and produced a couple of shot glasses full of something that was probably foul.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” I complained.
“I’m trying to get you to let go of your inhibitions.”
That annoying place between my legs flared at what sounded like a sexual undercurrent in his voice, and I bit my bottom lip.
Holding up the shot glasses, he gestured for me to take one. “Down the hatch, Lux.”
I was powerless where he was concerned and raised the glass to my lips and drank. As the liquid burned all the way down my throat and into my stomach, he wound his arm around my waist and hauled me onto the dance floor.
“Hey!” I exclaimed. “No fair!”
“I’m determined to dance with you, Lux Dawson, and if I have to resort to trickery, then I damn well will.”
Taking the shot glass from my hand, he let it fall to the floor, his gaze never leaving mine. Then something strange happened. The world fell away. All of it. Nothing seemed to matter now that I was standing here with him, and when he grasped my waist and tugged me gently against him, I began to forget who I was and why I was so damn afraid of the line. That stupid metaphoric line I was so damn determined never to cross.
“Put your arms around me, Lux,” he murmured into my ear.
Instantly obeying his command, I slid my hands over his chest and snaked my arms around his neck. I couldn’t hear the music, so I wasn’t sure if it was a slow or fast song that was playing, but I needn’t have worried. Jude took the lead and moved us back and forth, the length of his body against mine.
I could feel all of him…and I meant all of him. His chest against mine, his stomach, his thighs, his…there. Hands that held me tightly, lips that brushed against my cheek…
I didn’t know what to do, so I let him command and guide me. Maybe it was the sudden influx of alcohol in my system making its way straight to my head, or maybe it was my lust talking, but this felt like something else. Something new. Something we hadn’t done before. Something that I’d wanted to the point it ached because it never seemed possible…
Was it possible?
There was a hunger in my heart that was full of promise…and an itch under my skin that was called Jude Atwood.
His hands ran up my back and then back down, getting lower and lower… Pulling back, I swiped the back of my hand across my forehead, heat rising in my cheeks. Not in front of everyone… Damn, I felt… I didn’t know what I felt.
“You cool?” Jude asked, placing his hands on my shoulders.
“I…” I took a deep breath, my head beginning to swim. “I need a break.”
He nodded, a frown creasing his forehead, and I turned, weaving my way through the crowd and straight to the ladies’ room.
Opening the door, I was thankful that it was empty for the moment. My thoughts were scattered, and the last thing I wanted was to have an audience as I crouched on the floor and scooped them up like a moron.
Leaning over the sink, I took a few deep breaths. I’d been here an hour. A bloody hour and I was already drunk, feeling up the male lead of Naturals, and trying not to puke in the ladies’ room. That had to be some kind of record.
Glancing at my phone, I saw that it was almost eleven p.m. When had it become eleven p.m.? That was a long hour.
The door opened, and the volume of the music rose then dulled as the door closed again.
“What the fuck is this?”
Glancing up, I saw it was Tessa Donahue, and I felt like puking even more. She was on the warpath, and she’d locked onto her target with one hundred percent accuracy. Obviously, I was her target. I was always her target.
She was wearing a tiny dress, covered in some kind of sequins or beads, that barely covered her knickers, but she had legs for eons, so it didn’t matter if a little ass cheek peeked out. Damn, I was drunk. I literally had to be out of my mind if I was thinking about the decorum of Tessa Donahue’s ass crack.
She shoved her phone into my face, and I stilled, a pile of vomit beginning to pool in the back of my throat.
It was a paparazzi photo of me and Jude. Me and Jude in New York. Me and Jude ice skating. Me and Jude looking like a pair of lovers. Me and Jude.
“What’s the matter, Lux?” Tessa purred. “Feeling sick at the thought of being caught out?”
Caught out? Caught out doing what? We didn’t do anything that went beyond a simple friendship. I was friend zoned. Wasn’t I? But we’d just danced like we were…you know. Horizontal. Or something.
“I—”
“Oh, save it, bitch,” she spat. “Jude is mine, and he always will be. He loves me, darling. Not some plain dork that writes romance novels. It’s only a matter of time before the season is over and you’re gone, and he’s back in my bed. And this time it will be for good.”
My hands began to shake as she stood before me and declared ownership over Jude. Ownership. I knew better than anyone that someone could never claim ownership of someone else’s feelings. Love couldn’t be manufactured or forced. No, love did whatever the hell it wanted and damn the consequences. If Jude loved Tessa, wouldn’t he be with her right now? Wouldn’t he have been with her this whole time?
She scoffed in my face and shook her head. “Pathetic,” she hissed. “Can’t even stand up for yourself.”
Turning to the mirror, she placed her phone back into her clutch and fluffed up her hair while I stood there completely and utterly shell-shocked.
How could I compete with her? Seriously, I couldn’t even open my mouth to defend myself against her poisonous words, how did I ever think I could handle the life of being Jude Atwood’s girlfriend? Scrutinized, photographed, poked and prodded, gossiped about… I was a nobody. Besides, I couldn’t command his feelings. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want him to want me under duress. I wanted him to want me for me.
Too bad I was a coward and a dork. There was Jude’s league, the one where all the beautiful superstars hung out, and then there was the shed around the back where the trash congregated. I belonged in the shed.
Tessa glanced at me in the mirror and rolled her eyes. “Moron.”
Moron? Wow. Just…wow.
Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she strode from the bathroom, the volume of the music rising as the door opened and muffling again as it closed.
A single, lonely tear slid down my cheek as I realized this world was too much for me. I was friends with Jude, and we’d spent some amazing times together, but I could never cope with living in his stratosphere. Reason told me to forget about Tessa Donahue and her opinion, and go for broke, but the little voice that had lived inside of me my entire life told me to run like hell.
I was so confused.
Grabbing a piece of paper towel, I dabbed my eyes and checked my reflection. I was completely over it. There was no way I was going back out there and putting on a brave face. I knew myself through and through, and if I stayed, I’d just hide in a corner moping. It was time to clear out and go home while I had some dignity intact.
Outside, the air was cool, so I pulled my biker jacket on and flipped up the collar.
“Hey.”
I turned at the sound of Jude’s voice. He was leaning up against the wall, his phone in his hand, his gaze firmly on mine. I could still feel the ghost of his body pressed against mine, and I shivered, sinking deeper into my jacket.
“Hey, yourself,” I threw back.
“Are you leaving?” he asked, clearly disappointed, and I wondered if a little dance was all it took to get him going.
“Yeah,” I said with a shrug. “I’ve had enough excitement for one night.” And en
ough threats from your ex-girlfriend to last a lifetime.
He pushed off the wall. “You’re going home?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll walk you,” he said.
“No, it’s okay,” I said, backing away. “Stay at the party. It’s only a couple of blocks.”
“A lot can happen in a couple of blocks,” he said, narrowing his eyes. He stepped forward, wavering on his feet.
“Exactly how much have you had to drink since I left you in there?” I asked in amusement.
“I’m not drunk,” he complained. “But you are.”
“Am not,” I lied. Well, I’d reverted to tipsy after Tessa had sobered me up with her bitchy presence. I put my hands on my hips. “I bet you a hundred bucks you can’t walk in a straight line.”
“Only a hundred? I think we can do better than that.”
“You’re a cocky bastard, Jude Atwood.”
“And she swears like an angel,” he slurred.
“I think I should be walking you home,” I retorted.
“Now there’s an idea…”
I flushed scarlet, my entire body beginning to zing. “So you don’t fall in a gutter and wake up with your shame all over TMZ, jerk.”
He waved his hand at me. “I’m still walking you home. The air will sober me up a bit.”
“Ha! So you are drunk.”
He held up his hand and pinched his thumb and forefinger together. “Perhaps a little.”
I shook my head and began walking, Jude falling into step beside me.
“How did you like the party?” he asked.
I could still feel his body pressed against mine, moving to the music. So close to kissing and throwing everything away.
“It was okay,” I muttered.
“You’re a good dancer,” he said, giving me a wink.
I rolled my eyes and glanced away so he couldn’t see the heat in my cheeks. I wasn’t sure it was necessary considering he was a little loose, but it was like a default reaction. You know, like a reflex.
Stopping at an intersection, my mind went back to the moment Tessa shoved her phone in my face and almost bitch-slapped me to the ground. Bloody hell, why should I care what Tessa Donahue thought? Maybe I should care a little if I wanted to have my contract renewed. I hadn’t thought about anything beyond this season of the show. Did I want to come back for another year? Did I want to continue living in this spiral of one-sided lust and heartbreak?
