Hollywood Lies (18 page)

“I’ll meet you guys in my room,” I say, handing Brady the room card. When the elevator opens, they get in, and I head back to Cole’s door.

She waits until she sees that I’m alone to show me a real expression. The fake smile fades, and she draws her brow together. “What the hell?”

“What the hell, what?”

“You bring your friends to my suite?”

I hold my hands up in innocence. “They wanted to meet you. I wanted
you
to meet them.”

Cole folds her arms over her chest. “You told them about us.”

It’s not a question; it’s an accusation, and I respond to it as such. “Yeah, I did. Those guys are my—”

Cole narrows her eyes. “What part of secret did you not understand?”

I try to keep my voice even as my emotions start to drive my reaction. “I’m not an idiot. If I thought they’d tell everyone about us, I wouldn’t have—”

“I take back saying your naivety is cute. It’s not. You don’t think those guys would sell you out in a second when the press offers them lots of money for any piece of juicy trash?”

“No, I don’t think that. They would never do anything like that.” I reach out and try to follow her.
 

She steps back into her suite and stops me before I’m even over the threshold. “It’s not okay that you told your buddies the first chance you got. The rules I have are simple, and none of them are arbitrary. I’d love to tell everyone about how I met this terrific guy, but—”

“You can’t because I’m not as cool as Oliver.” I practically spit out his name. “Because you’re afraid of what people might say when they see you with a younger guy? A nobody?”

Cole actually rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “I’ve been seen with a lot of younger men, thank you very much, and you’re not a nobody. I’m trying to protect you from—”

“Me? Bullshit. You’re protecting yourself, and it’s offensive that you think I’m stupid enough to tell people I don’t trust. My friends don’t care
who
I’m with, they’re loyal, and would never sell me out.”

“Whatever.”
 

“Don’t be pissed, Cole. Come on.” I try to touch her.

She pushes my arm away. “You have no idea what this could do, or how much pressure I’m under already.”

“Cole,” I try again and this time she lets me cup her face with my hand. “They’re awesome guys, really. Come out with us and—”

“When are you going out?”

“ ’Bout eleven.” I place a hand on her waist. “Gives us plenty of time to—”

“I’ve got a lot to do. Maybe I’ll see you at the club.” Without anything else, she removes herself from my grasp and closes the door.

“I am fucking wasted,” I announce to a table full of people, half of whom are my friends from New York. They laugh. Probably because it’s not a secret how drunk I am.

We started off the night with a shot of whiskey, moved on to rum and Cokes, then a shit-ton of beer. When Cole still hadn’t showed up by one in the morning, I did a couple more shots. Now I’m planted in this booth, watching people dance, listening to my friends try to make it with my female cast members.
 

They’re bombing.

I’m on instant alert as soon as I see Cole. I want her to come over to me, but she doesn’t. Obviously, I fucked up by wanting to introduce my friends to her. Obviously, I’m a fucking idiot for thinking I had the right to want something like that, but how the hell was I supposed to know it was forbidden? I had asked her if we were in a relationship, and she said we were.

I know she wants it on the down-low, but damn, not even telling our friends about it? Is that really what this is?

Brady is staring at me as I stare at Cole. She crosses over to one of the five bars in this joint. She looks so fucking hot in her tight yellow dress that leaves her shoulders exposed and her legs bare. She isn’t wearing a bra, and I think about sucking on her perfect tits. Her nipples would be incredibly responsive. Just a lick over one would get it standing up tall. Her moans when I suck them hard would be like an instant testosterone shot into my veins.

“Maybe you shouldn’t watch this,” Brady says.
 

I focus and see Cole talking to some guy at the bar. She takes him by the hand and leads him out to the dance floor. She turns around, which brings her back flush with him. His body is curved around her so that his groin is against her ass. Every time they move, I know she can feel his cock against her.
 

He’s probably hard, thinking about how tight she’ll be, and wondering if she will let him stick it in her.

Julie comes up next to me as I watch Cole dance. I bristle at her mere presence.
 

She leans over and says, “Guess you’re not the flavor of the night.”
 

I hate Julie so much. I turn my narrowed eyes on her, ready to tear into her.

She just laughs.
 

I ready to grab her by the arms and push her away from me when someone stops me.
 

Brady shoos me out of the booth, then wraps an arm around my shoulder and walks me to the bar. “Fuck ‘em, Devy. Fuck ‘em both.”

“I did.” My voice is low under the loud din of the people around us.
 

Brady doesn’t hear me, and orders me something.
 

I drink whatever it is. I love the nice buzz of alcohol, but I hate the moment when I’ve drunk too much. That moment is fast approaching, so when my friend tries to buy another round, I wave him off.
 

Brady’s elbows are on the bar, and he faces out to the dance area.
 

I keep my eyes on the bottles lined up behind the bar even though I feel desperate to catch a glimpse of what Cole is doing.

“You think she’s just playing a game?”

I ask, “Who? Cole or Julie?”

“Both, but who gives a shit about Julie, right? You said you weren’t into her. Cole’s the one got you all strung out.”

Finally, I allow myself to turn. Like everywhere she goes, Cole is the center of everyone’s consciousness, and I find her easily. “Don’t know,” I answer. “Maybe. She could have any guy she wanted, right? So why me?” I stare out at Cole, whose ass is pressed against that guy’s groin.

Brady stares at me. “ ’Cause you’re a fucking good guy, that’s why.”

“This is Hollywood.”

“No, actually it’s Boston.”

His attempt at lightening my mood doesn’t work. “You know what I mean. No one cares if I’m a good guy.”

The dude holds Cole’s hips. A pulsing rage flows through me, forcing my hands into fists.
 

“Well, if she’s going to be a fickle bitch, at least you got to hit it.”

I turn to Brady, all of my anger now turning onto him. “Shut up. She’s not a bitch, and you fucking know I’m not like that. You may want to sum everything up into hitting it, but I don’t. And besides, you’re such a shitty liar. We all know just how whipped you are. Brooke owns you, and you’re not fooling anyone using terms like
tap her ass
or
hitting it
. You go home and you
make love
to the girl you want to marry. Stop pretending like you don’t.”

He simply looks at me for a moment, then grins and holds up a finger to me. “You know, Needles always said one day you were gonna have enough and speak your mind. We’ve known each other for what? Eight years?
Finally
, it’s happened, and if it’s because of this chick, then don’t go all pouty and blue. Fucking go get her.”

Something Julie said a while back breaks through in my mind. About how Cole wanted the sweet, intelligent type, but also wanted someone who was completely masculine. I’m still not sure what I should do.
 

She’s so pissed because I told my close friends that I have a thing with her. How the hell will she react if I go out onto the dance floor and pull her away from that dude like a caveman? Would she let me pull her over to the bathrooms? Would her security team? A million cells with cameras would be pointed in our direction.

I wonder if maybe she wants me to go all Neanderthal on her, drag her to the bathroom and fuck her hard against the cold metal of the stall partition again. But too many people will see.
 

By the time I decide not to plan what I’m going to do, but just do it, I can’t find her. The tall guy she was dry humping on the dance floor makes his way back to his table.
 

But where is she?

“She’s headed to the exit,” Brady says, chucking a thumb behind him and to the left.

I start heading toward her, but then stop and turn back to my friends. “Will you guys get back okay?”

“Baby boy,” he says while he slaps my cheek, “We’re from NYC. We got this shit.”

The throngs of people standing, dancing, tripping, and moving all over the place doesn’t make it easy for me to weave through them. Some of them are talking about Cole. They can’t believe she was here. Some of them are just standing there, staring after her. And some of them won’t get the fuck out of my way so I can get to her.

Finally, I’m outside. The cold air hits me, sobers me up just a bit. When my eyes find the SUV, Oscar closes Cole’s door and gets into the passenger side himself.
 

I race over to the vehicle and stop his door from closing. “I need to talk to her.” My heart and breath are still racing, and I’m still drunk, so there is nothing I can do to stop this man from squishing me like a bug if he wants to.
 

Oscar gets back out and towers over me. “She’s waiting for you.”

I’m not quite sure what the information means, but I waste no time opening the back door and slide in.
 

Cole sits with her legs crossed; her eyes on me.
 

“Uh,” I say.
Brilliant. Very intelligent.

Her lips are pressed together, but there is a lightness in her eyes that wasn’t there this afternoon.
 

Maybe she isn’t so pissed
. “Listen,” I begin again, as Xavier pulls us away from the curb. “I wasn’t trying to fuck things up. I only told them we were—”

“You’re drunk.”

“Yep.” I extend my hand until the tips of my fingers can touch her exposed leg.
 

“Apologies mean shit when people are intoxicated.”

“I’ll say sorry again tomorrow.”

“What makes you think you’ll have a chance?”

“Because you didn’t leave the club with him,” I say, referring to the asshole she had been dancing with.

Cole glances up front at Xavier and Oscar, then turns back to me. With her back pressed against the door, she brings one foot up between us and spreads her legs. She puts one finger up to her lips, motioning me to be quiet. I almost miss it because I’m too busy looking at the pussy staring out at me from beneath her skirt.

It’s glistening.

Just as I reach out to trace the lips with my finger, she shifts and hides her soft spot from me. “I could’ve left with him, you know.”

I nod. But Cole doesn’t just want someone who’ll take all of her shit. She wants someone who’ll fight back against it, so I move close to her and whisper, “But you don’t want him. You want me. My cock.”

I put my hand up her skirt; my fingers pry her legs apart a little. “Are you wet for me or him?” I ask, my mouth touching her ear.

She doesn’t answer, so I push my thumb against her clit and slide my index finger into her. “Did you get wet because you were dancing with him, or because you were thinking about me watching you?”

I draw my finger out, almost all the way and press her little clit harder. “Me or him?” I ask again, practically growling into her ear.

“You,” she whispers, breathless.

The SUV stops. We’re at the hotel, so I withdraw my hand, then make a show of sucking my finger into my mouth to taste her. Our eyes are locked, and I know she wants me. I can feel the power surging in me with the knowledge.
 

I’m a gentleman and help her out of the SUV. I keep my hands in chaste places as we enter the hotel via the back entrance. Oscar and Xavier ride the freight elevator up with us, so we don’t touch, and we don’t speak.