Today in fact.
Teen Beat and all the gossip rags were talking about it and trying to get the scoop. That’s why we were out here in the middle of nowhere filming. Our director knew how to fuel the drama, and he wanted to be in control of the media frenzy by hand selecting which shots went out before the movie was released.
I was a little nervous, which was unusual for me. I loved performing, but I only had a few real life kisses to draw upon. Those had been mostly unimpressive, hastily stolen when my dad hadn’t been around (which he almost invariably was) and generally for experimental rather than romantic purposes.
This kiss would be different though because of who would share it with me. Alex Treyall, the actor who played CJ, was my best friend in real life. And he just happened to be the most fabulous gay guy I knew. His sexual orientation was the reason my dad let me hang around with him whenever I wanted… without supervision. My palms got sweaty just thinking about it. Who wanted to kiss their best friend over and over again until we got it right and in front of a crowd of people?
Yeah, I knew I was completely pathetic and probably the most sheltered twenty-one year old in existence. Stuck in limbo, still portraying a teenager, the same sad role for seven years. I was sick and tired of it. Sick of being a goody-goody, sick of trying to be everything that my parents wanted, and sick of playing a role I’d come to loathe just so the money would keep rolling in.
I felt like a prisoner, albeit one inside a gilded cage. I hated the whole thing, but hid my unhappiness. I had to. I was an actress wearing a mask, a grand façade that hid how helpless I really felt. Except for the occasional minor rebellion, like the online courses or walking off by myself today, I hadn’t worked up the nerve to change it…yet.
“Hey, girl.” My door slammed open. “Chickadeeta, babyheybabyhey, chickiepoo, smoochiepoo, twinklepuss, poodlebutt, poochbutton.”
Olivia jumped, her hand slipping and smearing a line of pink lipstick across my face from my lips to my ear. She glared at Alex as he hopped up the steps into the trailer. He stopped in front of me slinging a practiced hand back through his wavy blond hair while beaming his perfectly white heart stopping smile. “Ready to suck face?”
I grinned. I loved Alex. There was little I kept from him. He knew me better than anyone else, and he had an uncanny ability to always say just the right thing at just the right time in just the right way. If it weren’t for him I probably would’ve slid over the edge years ago.
Alex Treyall was the best friend ever.
Within a few minutes, Olivia had repaired the damage. She unsnapped the protective bib from around my neck and removed it with a flourish. “Don’t mess up my masterpiece,” she said softening her warning with a smile.
“I won’t. Thanks, Olivia. You’re a genius. I look positively, illegally young.”
Her smile widened but she waved off the praise. She was the best in the business.
I crossed to Alex. He took my hand, my heart lightening as we laced our fingers together.
“See ya, Dad,” I said with a quick wave over my shoulder.
Head still bowed over his iPad, my dad grunted his acknowledgement.
Alex and I stepped outside, a blast of cold wind tossing my hair about as we made our way to the picnic set up on the other side of the meadow. I glanced at Alex. We were practically eye to eye. He was only a couple of inches above my height. Most actors weren’t tall, a fact few people outside the business knew or cared about. Charisma mattered much more than one’s measurements. And Alex had it for sure.
He turned his head and smiled at me. His real smile, the lopsided adorable one, not the fake one he usually wore on camera.
“Don’t tell me you’re actually looking forward to this?” Perplexed, I lifted a brow.
“You’re kidding, right? It’s gonna make me a hot ticket in our target demographic.” Alex was always following stuff like that. He paid attention to statistics and trending data and perused the tabloid sites daily always knowing who was doing what and who they were doing it with. I liked my craft, but couldn’t care less about the trappings of fame and the rest.
Alex stopped to study me for a moment, his light blue eyes focusing on mine. “You nervous?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “A bit. You have a lot of experience. Whereas I…”
“Shaye,” he drawled my name in the Texas accent he rarely revealed. “Baby.” He grabbed my other hand and kissed my knuckles with a loud smack. “A good kiss is one-tenth technique and nine-tenths passion. And you’ve got enough passion in your little pink pinky to make ours look really blazing hot on film. And for the right guy whenever he finally comes along, ok?”
“Ok,” I agreed readily though inside I remained unconvinced, especially about that later part. What would any guy want with a pinked up piece of work like me?
“And anyway, since I am the experienced one.” He puffed out his chest. “All you really need to do is follow my expert lead.”
That I could do. I trusted him implicitly. We’d been friends forever, since the very first season when he’d entered my dressing room without knocking and turned my nervous tears to laughter with one of his silly jokes. I think that was why our chemistry was so good on camera. Plus we were both experts at pretending. Life had taught us both to hide our true feelings.
On screen, Pinky was the sassy mischief maker. Alex’s character CJ was the shy one. In reality, the reverse was mostly true. Except for what I’d agreed to do back at my hotel room later today with…
“Fuck!” I threw a hand over my mouth as soon as the uncharacteristic expletive slipped out.
Alex’s jaw dropped.
We both glanced nervously over our shoulders.
My dad didn’t like me cursing, plus it didn’t mesh well with my good girl image. He’d read me the riot act, the long extended high volume blister your ears version if he’d heard me using language like that.
“I didn’t even get his name,” I shook my head at my own stupidity.
“Who’s name?” Alex returned in a conspiratorial whisper moving in closer as if we were exchanging national secrets. He was so high drama.
“The guy who was gonna jump off the bridge.” I hiked a thumb over my shoulder.
“The who that was going to do what?” His gaze narrowed in the direction I’d just indicated before he turned it back on me. “When you went off on that walk just now?”
I nodded.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Perfectly manicured blond brows leaped and his blue eyes pirouetted beneath them. He pouted. “Was he hot?”
“Dangerously.” Nuclear, like the heat of the sun. I’d never met anyone like him. It’d taken a glare to wake me up and get me to scramble off that deliciously hot body of his. Those antique oak eyes had turned to black holes pulling me into their gravity as he’d trailed his thumb across my cheek. Whew. I needed a mental cool down just thinking about it.
Yeah, he was definitely hot alright. I filled him in as the rest of the crew bustled into place around us. When I got to the naughty part, a slow smile spread across his face. “No you did-n’t.”
“Oh yeah I did.” I smirked.
“That’s my girl.” He was always encouraging my inner rebellious streak. He offered me a fist to tap which we followed with our long set of elaborate hand motions. “You just pretend that I’m him. Channel some of that sass into our scene and I guarantee our kiss will kick ass.”
I could do that.
“Places,” the assistant director called out. Alex helped me lower myself down onto the picnic blanket. I was going to be on my back for the shot, him leaning over me. I felt the air warm up as the lighting tech arranged the mirrors.
“Action,” the director yelled from his perch on the boom above us.
Alex leaned in to stroke my cheek with the back of his hand. I let my lids flutter closed and imagined that the warm lips that touched my own belonged to my Bridge Man.
CHAPTER THREE
War<
br />
I couldn’t believe that I was actually here, that I’d gotten on the train and made the two transfers to come downtown to her hotel. Wasted effort most likely. There was absolutely no way in hell that she was really going to get naked, but just on the off chance that she might…
I entered the historic hotel from the Olive Street side and strode through the formal as shit lobby totally out of place in my dark jeans and raggedy old grey t-shirt with the cut off sleeves. But I knew it was more than just my clothing choices that had the manager giving me the down his nose once over.
I didn’t belong here. Way north of my zip code. I was out of place among the well to do types, the tourists off to explore Pikes Market, the business men huddled together brokering deals. Not that I felt at ease anywhere with anyone, really. I never let down my guard. I never let anyone behind the wall. I’d learned life’s hard lessons early on and recently had a refresher course on it that I’d just as soon have skipped.
But I guess here was as good a place as any. It certainly beat the alternative of being alone inside that cold empty house with only my regrets for company.
“Can I help you?” the stuffed suit with the manager label asked me, but I knew what he really meant was—state your purpose and it better be good or I’m calling security to escort your sorry ass out.
Yeah, I’d been down this particular road too many times for it to be a novel experience.
I slid my Aviators down my nose purposefully using my middle finger, the silver skull ring cold against my skin, the half dozen metal, leather, and beaded bracelets sliding down my arm and clinking together as they gathered inside the crook of my elbow. “No, motherfucker. I’m good.”
I peered over the top of the sunglasses at him, switching on the Southside attitude that’d been tattooed into my DNA. “And I’d be a lot better if you’d step out of my way, otherwise we’re gonna have a big problem when I put my fist through that tight ass face of yours, you get me?”
The suit took a big step back, and I gave him a chin dip before turning to the elevators on the right. Bitch better be worth it.
The elevator was slow. Too slow. Slow enough that my mind had time to wander down a dark path I wished it wouldn’t.
Coffin or cremation, Mr. Jinkins. Burial vault or concrete liner. Plaque or headstone. I hadn’t planned on sticking around long enough to be forced to make any of those decisions. But because of this deal with her, a deal I’d considered reneging on several times, I’d spent the day planning my mother’s funeral.
I squeezed my eyes shut tight as if that would make everything go back to the way it was before. Though distant she’d been the only real family I’d ever had. No uncles or aunts. No living grandparents. My sperm donor of a father certainly didn’t count.
The next closest thing to it had been the two of them. Lace and Bryan. Prettiest girl on Southside on my arm. A best friend I thought I could count on. The three of us against the whole fuckin’ world. But in the end it’d been bullshit like all the rest.
Better to have the blinders off, view the world through paranoid eyes, and know the truth, right?
The wall was firmly back in place by the time the elevator doors slid open on the third floor.
A huge black dude with muscles out his ass and folded arms as wide as tree trunks blocked my path as soon as I stepped off. “This is a restricted floor, Sir.”
“Yeah?” I tucked the earpiece of my sunglasses into the front of my shirt, lifted my chin, and crossed my arms too, holding my ground. If he wanted to go toe to toe, I was more than willing to oblige. Didn’t care if he wiped the floor with me. “Well, I was invited by Shaina. Room 312. She’ll be real unhappy that she missed me.”
As soon as I said her name with the room number, the hulk relaxed. She must’ve told him about me. “Right this way, Sir. She’s expecting you.”
I followed him to the end of the hall. I read the plaque on the set of double doors. You gotta be kiddin’ me. The fuckin’ presidential suite? Sweet. She must be pulling down some major dough doing this acting gig.
Pages and pages of google images didn’t lie. Shaina Bentley was apparently a big fucking deal.
The bodyguard dude knocked and the doors immediately swung open. My eyes narrowed. Instead of her it was a pretty faced blonde guy in chinos and a collared shirt who looked wholesome enough that he could’ve stepped right off the page of an American Eagle ad.
“Oh, my!” the guy exclaimed, his blue eyes going round. “Of all the guys in Seattle. Out in the woods in the middle of nowhere and she finds you. The lost boy everyone’s talking about. This is so Shaye.”
I pressed my lips together. I should’ve known this was some kind of set up. What the purpose or the punch line was, I had no idea and I didn’t care. Anger searing the inside of my gut, I turned on my booted heels. The bitch better hope I never saw her again.
“Hey.” The American Eagle boy put his hand on my arm. “Where’re you going?”
I froze, my gaze dropping to his hand. I wasn’t big on people getting in my personal space. I shook him off, my fingers closing into fists, ready to tear him up. I’d been spoiling for a fight for days, ever since I got the news.
“Whoa, big guy. Hold up.” He put his hands up in the air like I was some outlaw in a western and he was surrendering to me, which I guess he kinda was. “Sorry. Listen. We got off on the wrong foot. I’m Alex Treyall, the best friend. I insisted Shaina let me check you out before I let you in.” He shook his head, looking at me as if I was the crazy one who invited a random stranger up to their room. “You just surprised me is all. You didn’t even give her your name this morning. She’s here. She’s inside. She’s been waiting for you.” He gestured for me to follow. “Come on in. I’ll get her for you. That’s why you came, isn’t it?”
I stared at him for a beat before nodding.
“Ok, then.” He turned and went back inside the suite. And for some inexplicable reason, as if I had no willpower of my own, I followed.
He left me waiting in the marble foyer. I twisted on my thumb ring after a cursory glance at the luxurious set up. There was even a vase full of fresh cut flowers on the tall table beside me. Down the hallway on my left, I heard their voices. They were low for a couple of minutes, but got louder as they neared. Him I didn’t even bother to track. Her, my eyes completely stalled out on. And my heart stopped beating.
Literally. Fucking. Stopped.
I’ve had plenty of pretty women before. Chicks have been throwing themselves at me since middle school way before the band started hitting it big. It must’ve been the challenge I represented ’cause I ain’t all that and I really never gave a shit. Except with one. But even when I’d first met her I’d never felt completely blindsided like this.
The pink shit was all gone. The beautiful woman who stood in front of me now only vaguely resembled the girl I’d met earlier. She had that indefinable something that made her seem equal parts woman and child, making me want to possess her at the same time that I wanted to protect her.
Her stunning face was scrubbed clean and it glowed with vitality. Light barely visible freckles scattered across her cheeks within a complexion that was all peaches and soft cream. Long hair. Really, really long. So long it fell in thick waves well past the belt of the white hotel robe she wore. The color was fascinating, russet mostly with gold and platinum streaks. It was as stunning as the rest of her.
“I look a little different, huh?”
Fuck yeah. I blinked and she gave me a shy smile that made her light green eyes twinkle. “The wig and the makeup I wear for the show throws people off. Helps keep me from being recognized in public most of the time.” She turned to her friend, and I was finally able to catch my breath while she spoke softly to him. “I’ll be fine, Alex. We’ve talked about this, already. I’ll call you if I need you.”
“Ok, Twinklepuss. But,” he pointed with his head, “wait over in the living room a sec. I need to have a man to man with him before I go.”
“But Alex,” she whined.
“Not leaving till you let me do this.” He lifted a brow and crossed his arms over his chest.
They stared at each other, both with equally stubborn expressions on their faces. I was frankly a little surprised that it was her that gave in. I’d gone up against her steely determination out there on the bridge, and I was the one who buckled then.
After a curt nod and an audible huff, she stomped away, her bare feet slapping, the marble floor bearing the brunt of her displeasure. I found myself lost in the show of her hips swaying beneath her robe.
“Jinkins,” Alex called.
“Yeah.” I turned my head, my eyes reluctant to let go of their prize to meet his.
He gave me a shrewd kind of look, then banked it. “First off, I’ve seen the stories. I just want to say I’m sorry about your mom.”
I sucked in a breath, and tensed defensively.
“Not that I have any kind of relationship with mine anymore,” he continued, gazing at a spot over my shoulder missing my response. “She’s had nothing to do with me since I let on that I like guys, but I know that it must be a real hard time for you. Shaye told me everything about this morning. Everything. She’s too sweet and too impulsive for her own good. She takes on everyone’s problems as if they’re her own. Don’t take advantage of her, Jinkins. I know you’re not the least bit afraid of me. But I’ll tell you straight up, if you hurt her, in any way, I’ll find out about it. I’ll make sure you hurt worse. That’s a promise.”
I stared back at him. I wasn’t offended by the overprotective routine. It was good Shaina had someone looking out for her. Bryan and I used to look out for each other like that. There was a time I would’ve laid down my life for him. But nothing good came from that line of thinking. I let it go. I had other shit to deal with in my life right now. That was all over, dead and buried. I almost laughed at the morbidly ironic thought.
When I refocused on Alex, I discovered that he was watching me expectantly. For whatever reason, I went ahead and threw him a fuckin’ bone. “I won’t do anything she doesn’t want me to do.”
The Complete Tempest World Box Set Page 77
