Hollywood Playboy

by Natasha Madison

  “And come next week, it’s going to be at the bottom of a bird cage with shit on it.” She throws her hands up. “He’s Hollywood Playboy for a reason, yet he came here and fought for you. Not only did he fight for you, but I also threatened to shoot him.”

  “You what?” I asked shocked, my eyes huge.

  “When in Montana, you pull out the big guns, bestie. The decision is yours and no one else’s, but I hope you know what you’re throwing away because sometimes finding love isn’t that easy.” She squeezes my shoulder with one hand and leaves me alone with my thoughts. I gaze into the distance, the calmness of the mountains, the light breeze. My arms wrap around my stomach, trying to get the chill out of my bones. I turn around and walk back inside and stop. He’s there standing at the top of the stairs looking down at me, his face ravaged with hurt.

  “Tyler,” I whisper.

  “I left,” he says. “I got in the car, and I thought I was having a heart attack.” He rubs his chest with his fist. “The pain was so much I couldn’t stand it.” I take a step forward to go to him, and he holds up his hand. “I knew I had to come back because I wasn’t done fighting for you.” He starts down the steps while he talks. “Tell me you don’t feel anything for me.” His eyes bore into me. “Tell me that when I left, your heart didn’t hurt like mine.” I swallow now, my throat dry, as he comes down the last step. “Tell me that the last four days weren’t the worst of your life.” He stands in front of me. “Tell me that when I held you in my arms just now, you didn’t feel it.” He looks down into my eyes. “Tell me that when you were in my arms, you didn’t feel like everything would be okay because we were finally together.”

  I stare at him, taking in his face and the circles under his eyes that pretty much match mine. I look at the worry. I look at his chest rising and falling because I’m sure his heart is beating just as fast as mine. “I can’t,” I finally whisper, and now it’s me who touches him first. My hands slide inside his jacket to loop around his waist and fist his shirt. “I can’t tell you any of that because I would be lying.” I blink, and when the tear falls over my lid, his hand comes up and catches it on his thumb. “I went through so many emotions in the past four days. I was angry that our secret was out. I was pissed that I made people and their opinions matter to me. I was horrified and disgusted that a private moment between us was made to be dirty. But most importantly, I was scared.” I take a second to try to find the right words. “I was scared that . . . that you felt the way the papers said. I was scared that you played me. I was scared that I felt all these emotions for you, and you felt nothing for me.” I look up at him, finally seeing that I was wrong.

  “Jess,” he whispers, his forehead coming down to mine.

  “I love you,” I finally say. “I’m not going to let the fear win this time, and I’m not going to let the fear stop me from taking the biggest leap I’ve ever taken in my life.” One of my hands goes to the center of his chest, and I feel his heart beating. As I blink my eyes, he lowers his lips to mine, and my heart starts beating in rhythm to his.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Tyler

  Spotted Tyler with his new lady.

  I walked away from her, but when I made it halfway down the driveway, I knew I had to go back, and fuck, was I happy I did. We just said goodbye to Kellie and Brian, and she’s in the truck next to me as I make my way to the house that Ryan rented for me. Grabbing her hand in mine, I bring it to my lips and look over at her, not saying anything. I just watch her as I take the winding road leading up to the house, not even sure what to expect. I also don’t give a shit if it’s a shed with no electricity. As long as she’s with me, we can fucking endure anything. She holds my hand in her lap, both hands around my one that is over the center console.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask her, and she just shakes her head. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.” She looks at me, smiles, and then looks out the window. “Maybe later,” she mumbles under her breath.

  I pull up to the address he gave me, and she turns in her seat. “How long are you here for?”

  “For however long you want to be here. I was hoping that I could maybe convince you to come and stay with me on the ranch near my parents.” I ask her and think maybe it’s too much too soon. I should go in baby steps and slowly ease into it.

  “Can we go there?” she asks me, and I look into her eyes. “I’m really tired of living out of a suitcase. I want to just sleep in the same bed for more than three days.” She quiets when I get on the phone and call Ryan.

  He answers after the first ring. “I really fucking hope this isn’t a bail me out of jail call.” I laugh now, the pressure off my chest as I look over at her.

  “No, but I do need one more favor.”

  “I think you’re about out of favors.” He laughs. “What now?”

  “Is the plane still here?” I ask, hoping like fuck it is.

  “Now don’t get me wrong, I always knew you’d get the girl back, but I had the plane waiting just in case.”

  “I can be there in thirty minutes,” I tell him, and he hangs up. “Let’s go home.” I make my way back to the airfield. I grab her bag out of the car after I park it in the exact spot where I took it from. I roll her bag with my left hand and wrap my right arm around her shoulder, turning to kiss her temple. The airport attendant grabs her bag when we approach the small plane parked with the stairs down. “This is smaller than we’re used to.”

  “Does that mean there isn’t a bed?” When she winks at me, I look down and laugh. “I was kidding. You know that, right?” I hold out my hand for her to walk up the steps first, and she does. Getting in after her, I sit down in the chair in front of her, and in fifteen minutes, we are going down the runway.

  Once in the air, I take my phone out and text my father for him to know we are on our way. “What time are we going to land there?”

  “In twenty-five minutes.” Her eyes go wide. “My ranch is in the south. It’s a five-hour drive but a twenty-five-minute flight.” My phone beeps. “Mom wants to know if you’re hungry.” I see the worry set in her eyes. “I didn’t tell them anything,” I assure her. “I only spoke to my father once, and he was ready to come and kick my ass.”

  “What are we going to say?” she asks me now, leaning back in the seat. “Do we address it?”

  “Usually, I don’t address rumors. You know this.” I take a deep breath. “But you tell me what you want to do, and we’ll do it.”

  “I can’t believe I’m going to even say this,” she says, rubbing her face with her hands, “but the only thing we can do to make this go away is give an interview.” She groans.

  “What if you interview me?” I ask her, and she just glares at me. “Hear me out. We can do maybe a joint interview. You ask me questions; I ask you questions. Obviously, we’ll write the questions together.”

  “I mean, it’s not the worst idea.” She hits the arm of the chair with her thumb. “But if we do this, it has to be done quickly.”

  “We can ask Ryan to set it up. He can tie it in with the release of the movie.”

  “When are you leaving for Australia?” I know she is going to probably freak out, so I brace myself.

  “I’m not going,” I say, and I’m not wrong. She shrieks.

  “What do you mean you’re not going? Yes, you are,” she says, her voice getting louder, so loud that I didn’t even notice we were landing.

  “I pulled out when all this shit happened. Ryan wasn’t happy about it, but he’ll live.” The plane comes to a halt. I unbuckle the seat belt and hold out my hand. “Let’s go. You can yell at me at home.”

  “No reason to yell. You are going.” She grabs my hand, and when we walk out of the plane, my father’s truck is waiting for us. He’s leaning on the front of the truck, his legs crossed, and his arms over his chest. “Hey,” I say, going to him and hugging him while he slaps me on the back.

  “Welcome home, son,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder. �
�Hey there, gorgeous.” He walks over to Jessica, bending to kiss her on the cheek and hug her with one arm. “Let’s get you guys fed.”

  Jessica climbs in the back of the truck, and I sit in the front with my dad. We don’t really talk until we pull up to the house. “I should warn you.” He turns, looking at me. “Your mother . . .”

  “Oh my God!” I hear my mother yelling from the front door, standing on the porch. “Get your behind inside now,” she says in her teacher voice.

  “As I was saying, your mother . . .” he starts, and then we hear her again.

  “Frank, don’t you make me come down there!” she yells, and Jessica opens the back door without waiting. “Oh my God, she’s here.” I look at my mother now who puts her hand on her mouth, rushing down the steps to hug Jessica. She grabs her face in her hands and says something to her.

  “I see you picked a side,” my father says from beside me while I watch my mother and Jessica turn around and then walk back into the house.

  “I didn’t pick a side,” I tell my father, grabbing the handle. “The side picked me.”

  “Where does that leave Cassie? I know what I read in the papers, but where does it leave her?” he asks me, and I shrug. But he looks at me with worry because that’s what parents do.

  “It was her, Dad.” He hisses, and I know I have to continue. “The picture that was leaked came from Cassie when she took my phone. I trusted her, and she betrayed me.”

  “I want to say I’m surprised,” my father says, “but I’m not.” He opens his door now. “We have to tell your mother. I haven’t told her; she’s been avoiding the television and the papers since the picture was leaked.”

  That he won’t keep this from her isn’t a surprise. “I know.” I get out and walk up the steps with him, bracing myself for what’s to come. Walking straight to the kitchen, I see Jessica sitting on the stool laughing with my mother, holding a glass of wine in front of her. She looks up at me when I stop by her chair. “Hey.” Her eyes go light again, and her smile brightens her whole face. I lean down and kiss her lips. Not a fast peck but nothing that I shouldn’t be doing in front of my parents. “You okay?”

  “I am now,” she whispers and wraps her arm around my waist. For the rest of the night, we sit and talk with my parents, until I see her try to hide four yawns back to back.

  “Okay,” I say, getting up, “we have to go.” I look over at Jessica, and she just nods as she joins me.

  “I had the bag sent over to the house,” my father says when we walk toward the garage, “and had your golf cart brought over.” I knew without asking him he would do this. My mother hugs Jessica and makes plans to see her tomorrow. I kiss my parents, say goodbye, and then we head to my house. I’ve never brought anyone here. It’s mine and mine alone. A sanctuary of sorts. I had it built and chose everything, making it my hideout. The lights inside the house are on as well as the one next to the garage door. I press the button on the opener over my head and pull into the garage, parking next to my pickup.

  “Let’s go,” I say, getting out of the golf cart and closing the garage door behind us. We walk up three stairs, leading into the mud room. “Do you want the tour now, or can we do this tomorrow?”

  “I just want a bed,” she says honestly, and I nod at her. Taking her hand, I walk through the white kitchen, turning off the lights after us. The house has an open-floor concept, so the great room can be seen from the kitchen. I walk through the great room to the master bedroom, switching the light off in the great room. We walk into my bedroom, and it’s nothing fancy. The room is big with dark brown hardwood floors. The walls are painted a light gray, the ceiling of the room is wood and painted white. Soft spotlights are all over the room, and a king-size bed sits in the middle of the room between two big windows. “They must have put your bag in the closet,” I say, walking to the right and flipping the light to my walk-in closet. There in the middle is her bag. The only clothes I have here are jeans, T-shirts, sweaters, one suit, just in case, and a couple of pairs of khakis.

  “I need a shower.” She goes over to her bag and sits on the floor, opening her luggage. She moves stuff around to get her toiletry bag and a white T-shirt.

  “I’m going to just double check and make sure everything is locked up,” I tell her and kiss her neck when she takes off the big scarf she’d been wearing. She nods at me, then walks into the bathroom, and I hear her turn on the water. I check the back door and close the shades. I repeat the same thing throughout the house, and when I get back to the bedroom, I peel off my shirt and kick off my jeans, tossing them in the basket in the closet. When I walk into the bathroom, she is tying the towel around her chest, the shower still running behind her.

  “I left the water on for you,” she says, going over to the double sink vanity. Her toiletry bag is open on the counter with things spilling out of it. I take off my boxers and step into the shower, turning the cold water on a bit more. I watch her while she prepares for bed. Even though it’s something she’s done in front of me before, it’s a little thing that I missed. She walks out of the room, and I turn off the water, grabbing a white towel from the brown chest next to the shower. I wrap it around my waist and grab another one for my hair. I walk out of the bathroom and the sight stops me. She’s sliding up the covers in nothing but one of my T-shirts. She isn’t wearing some fancy lingerie; she isn’t primped and glammed up. Her hair is piled on top of her head, and her face is clean. “I think I’m going to sleep for a week.”

  I walk over to the bed, and she lies down, looking at me. “I know how you feel.” I drop the towel now and get into bed with her; the cool sheets almost making me moan. I turn to her, grabbing her around her waist. “Come here.” I pull her to me, and she comes willingly. I kiss her lips, and she slides her tongue out, licking my bottom lip. I finally kiss her like I’ve wanted to kiss her all day. Her arms go around my shoulders, and the kiss deepens. Her leg hitches over my hip, and I roll her over, getting on top of her. Holding her head in my hands, I put my weight on my arms. “I missed you,” I say between kisses, “so much.” She doesn’t say anything, just moans and takes my lips again. The need to have her naked makes me get on my knees while I look down at her. Her eyes are a light, light green, her cheeks pink, her chest rising and falling. “You have my T-shirt.” I grab the hem of my shirt, and she lifts so I can peel it off her. When I lean down and kiss her stomach, her stomach quivers, and goose bumps cover her body. Trailing kisses all the way back up, I stop at each nipple, taking it into my mouth, and then go to her neck. I grab my cock in my hand and rub it up and down her wet slit, aligning it and sinking into her. Her neck arches back, giving me full access while her mouth opens on a moan. I suck on the side of her neck, and her hands go up beside her head, palms facing up. I grab one hand in mine while I kiss her neck from left to right. Sliding in and out of her, I savor the moment, savor the fact that I have her.

  “Tyler,” she whispers on a moan, and I know she comes; my mouth falls on her, claiming it. Her eyes focus on mine now, and I come in her. I collapse on her, trying to hold up my weight but failing. My face is buried in her neck now, her legs crossed at my back, and her hands in my hair. “Don’t move,” she pleads, “please.” I don’t tell her that I couldn’t move even if I tried. “Just let me have this,” she says, her fingers rubbing my back, and I don’t know who falls asleep first. Either way, I don’t let her go. Even in the night, we never stray far from the other.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Jessica

  Finally, a statement from Tyler’s new lady.

  Blinking my eyes open slowly, I see some sunlight coming into the room. I’m on my back, and the covers are to my neck. I look over and see the back of Tyler’s head. I stretch, turning and slipping out of bed, careful not to wake him. I walk to the bathroom and wash my face with water. Walking to his closet, I check to see if he has a robe, and he doesn’t. I grab a pair of panties and slide a T-shirt off one of the hangers, slipping it over my head.
I walk out and see he’s still asleep. I close the door softly so as not to wake him. I walk to the kitchen and look around. The U-shaped kitchen has all white cupboards with white and gray marble countertops, making it look a touch cozy. The dark wood floor makes the white stand out. A huge island in the middle of the kitchen has eight stools around it with a big vase of yellow flowers in the middle. I walk over to the sink and look out the window, and the scenery is breathtaking. All I see is green and mountains everywhere. No other houses. To the left is an in-ground pool and what looks like a covered porch. I turn, walking to the coffeemaker, and search his cupboards to get what I need. I don’t have to look far; the coffee is stored right on top of the coffee machine. I start a brew and go over to the fridge. The huge stainless-steel fridge is stocked, so I grab some milk and make my coffee. I look around, not sure where I want to have the coffee, when I spot the nook off the kitchen. Huge bay windows and a small table in the middle with four chairs. I leave my coffee on the island and grab my computer, powering it on. I decide to sit at the island, crossing my legs as I take a sip of coffee. I open a blank document and start typing. I don’t hear him walk up behind me, but I feel his arms wrap around my waist. “Morning,” he mumbles and buries his face in my neck, taking a deep breath. “How long have you been up?”

  “Not long.” Turning my face to kiss his lips, I say, “I made coffee.”

  He nods his head, letting go of me and walks to the coffeepot to make himself a cup. “So I was thinking.” I look over at him in shorts that rest low on his hips as he leans back on the counter. “I wrote a piece today, and if it’s okay with you, I want to publish it.” His eyes narrow on me. “I don’t know where I’ll post it. I was thinking maybe Instagram or my Facebook; someplace that the media will see it and share it.” I look at him. “I won’t share it if you don’t want me to, but”—I smile at him—“if it’s okay with you, I also want to share a picture of us from when we went to the cherry blossoms.”