Hot Mess (Life Sucks Book 2)

by Elise Faber

  “I was definitely wondering that,” he deadpanned.

  She rolled her eyes. “Punk.”

  “I’m glad to see you, Red.”

  “Me, too. We should have dinner—” Movement to their side caught both of their attention. “Oh, and maybe Shannon could join, too. Have you met . . .?”

  Her words trailed off.

  Probably because he’d lost the ability to focus on them. Perhaps she’d stopped talking altogether because she got a glimpse of his face—which had to be revealing something of the visceral gut punch of Shannon, striding across the sand in a simple, almost prim, sapphire one-piece that showcased every lithe curve in sharp relief.

  So. Fucking. Pretty.

  She had a towel under one arm, a big floppy hat on her head, and sunglasses covering those gorgeous eyes.

  And quite simply, she took his breath away.

  “Finn,” she said with a smile.

  “Shannon,” he murmured.

  A soft question. “Want to watch the waves with us?”

  He nodded . . . because words wouldn’t come.

  “Great!” Then her eyes drifted to Rylie, and her mouth dropped open. “Ry! How could you?”

  His gaze rose to Pepper’s and they shared a wince, realizing they probably should have stopped Rylie from downing that loaf instead of spending the time catching up.

  But the damage was done.

  The loaf decimated.

  And for the first time in a long time, Finn figured he might as well live for a minute. He bent, scooped a chunk of the bread out and shoved it into his mouth. “Whoops,” he said, lips twitching as he chewed.

  “Your bread is just too tempting,” Pepper said, mirroring him.

  Shannon plunked her hands on her hips, the towel falling to the sand. “Really?” she asked, scooping it up.

  He shrugged and swallowed. “It really is too tempting.”

  He meant she was too tempting, and both Shannon and Pepper seemed to recognize that. Pepper gave him an assessing glance, but he was more focused on Shan and her lips parting, breath shuddering out.

  Yeah.

  Too fucking tempting.

  Rylie stood and handed him the loaf. “Tempting!” she yelled and ran off.

  He grinned as he traced her loping over the dunes, and he thought the little girl was tempting, albeit in a wholly different way than her mom. Sweet and fun and innocent, it was hard not to get swept up in her enthusiasm.

  “I’ll trade you,” he told Pepper, carefully wrapping the half-eaten loaf while passing over his neatly wrapped one. “This can be for the Hamiltons.”

  “That’s nice of you.”

  “You can take it to the Hamiltons,” he said.

  Yes, he emphasized you and take, even while understanding he probably didn’t need to, given the knowing look Pepper tossed in his direction.

  “You know the Hamiltons?” Shannon asked.

  “No, Blue Eyes.”

  Shannon bit her lip. “But you’ll take the half-eaten loaf anyway?”

  “I’ve had my fingers inside it,” he said, “that’s a pretty surefire way to take ownership of the loaf.”

  She sucked in a breath.

  Pepper made a strangled sound. “Well, I’ll just go grab Ry and deliver this . . . unfingered loaf . . .”

  He nodded but couldn’t tear his eyes from Shannon to look at his old friend. No, his gaze was glued on the blue-eyed, pink-lipped, lithely curved woman in front of him, her skin bronzed by the morning sun, that prim and proper swimsuit making him want to peel it slowly from her body, kissing his way down and—

  “You make excellent banana bread, Blue Eyes.”

  Another hitch in her breathing. “I—”

  He waited to see if she’d finish the sentence, and when she didn’t, he stepped closer. “You?” he asked softly.

  Her body drifted toward his, her nipples beading against the fabric of the swimsuit, making his mouth ache, his skin prickle with the need to feel them pressed to his chest.

  “Finn,” she murmured.

  Her mouth was right there.

  “Shannon,” he murmured back.

  She rose on tiptoe, leaned in, and he bit back a groan when the pebbled buds of her nipples brushed his chest. He lifted his free hand slowly, threading it through the silken ends of her dark brown hair, tilting her head back, dropping his mouth toward hers.

  Her lips were a millimeter away.

  Hot breath. Sweet, floral scent.

  “Oh my God! You’re Finn Stoneman!”

  Nine

  Penguin Socks and Reality Strikes

  Shannon

  She jerked back, Finn’s fingers getting tangled in her hair, the sharp but momentary pain the final push she needed to jump back into her own brain.

  Physical and emotional.

  She needed distance in both. Her eyes flicked to the side and saw a teenager standing a few feet away, her phone in hand, bobbing excitedly on her tiptoes. “Can I have a selfie?”

  Finn stiffened, carefully slipped his hand free of Shannon’s hair, then turned, but not before she saw a smile turn up the edges of his mouth.

  A familiar smile.

  A fucking smile that had graced billboards and magazine covers and . . . movie screens.

  He knew Pepper.

  He’d told her his real name. Finn. Stoneman.

  But he wasn’t referred to by both names. Or, at least, not often. He was just Finn, like Rhianna or Madonna or Beyonce, known by just one name. Four letters, one handsome face, one award-winning, charmingly self-effacing actor.

  The actor.

  He stepped toward the teenager, held the cell phone in a practiced way that illustrated quite clearly her realization was indeed the correct one.

  God, how could she not have seen it before?

  This man was quite possibly the most famous actor in the world.

  Even Shannon, who didn’t watch T.V., who had a soon-to-be-seven-year-old and so didn’t go to the movies often, if at all, had seen this man.

  She’d even felt there was something familiar about him.

  But she hadn’t clued in.

  Fuck.

  How could she have been so stupid?

  “Thanks!” the teenager said happily. “I really loved you in River Creek. But my favorite is Fled.”

  “Thank you for saying that,” Finn replied. “You’re very kind.”

  Shannon wanted to sink down into the sand, for it to swallow her up and bury her. She’d been toe-to-toe with this man, this world-famous celebrity, and as the realization of how different their lives were . . . different? Hell. They were fucking universes away from one another.

  The girl drifted away with one more smile, but Shan already knew what she needed to do.

  That was to get the fuck out of there.

  To focus on her own life.

  To stop having moments of insanity, to stop pretending that she lived in a world where a brown girl could fall for a sexy, sweet white guy, who happened to be a huge movie star, and he fell for her right back.

  Because that didn’t happen.

  That wasn’t real life.

  Not her life anyway.

  She had to focus on Rylie. She wasn’t even divorced yet. She—

  Needed to go.

  She spun, spotting Rylie returning from the Hamiltons’, Pepper at her side as they made their way down to the water. Perfect. The ocean. She could dive in and drown herself. She high-tailed it that way.

  “Shannon!” Finn called.

  Nope. There was no way she was turning around. No way she could face this man whom she should have recognized instantly but was too much of a hot fucking mess to have done so.

  The biggest movie star in the world was her neighbor.

  And she’d made him peanut butter milk.

  She groaned, dropped her eyes to the sand, and walked away like the speedy motherfucker she was.

  “Shan.”

  Hot breath in her ear. A warm palm on her ar
m, slowing her, tugging her to a stop. “Wait, honey.”

  She shook her head even as she let him stall her feet, pull her to a halt.

  “You really didn’t recognize me?”

  Shannon sighed. “No.”

  Silence then, “I know this is going to make me sound like an asshole,” he said. “But . . . how?”

  Her eyes were glued to the surf. “I-I’m busy.”

  “Busy?” he repeated.

  “Yeah,” she said. “And well, I used to be addicted to gossip shows, but then I met Pepper, and I realized how wrong and invasive they are . . . and things with Brian went to hell and . . . I just stopped watching.”

  “You’ve had a lot of other things to process.”

  She tugged her arm free. “I’ve got my head above water.” A beat. “But most of the time it feels like I’m just barely above the surface. Still, I’m there. I’m not drowning.”

  Anymore.

  No.

  Not then. Not now. Not in the future.

  “Enjoy the bread,” she said. “And your time away from the press and—” Her lungs froze, the words stoppering up in the back of her throat, and she couldn’t stop herself from spinning to face him again, to stare into those honey eyes she should have instantly recognized. “Your sister.”

  His lids closed, slid back open. “Yeah.”

  “And the media found out?”

  “Because I told them.” Her breath hitched, but he went on, explaining what he’d seen backstage, then about his on-screen meltdown, calling out the morning anchor, the situation with his sister slipping out in the process.

  When he stopped talking, Shannon was at a loss for words.

  What could she say aside from, “I’m so sorry.”

  He sighed. “The invasion of privacy is my burden for wanting to be in the industry. It’s the nature of the business, and my family has never wanted the business, the connections, but they’ve put up with the negatives because they love me and want me to be happy.”

  “And you think you ruined that?”

  Finn scoffed. “Of course, I ruined that. I was so furious that it happened to my sister, to someone in my family that I made it about me instead of recognizing that my sister needed me not to be angry, but to be there.” A beat. “I wasn’t. And . . . now the world knows something that she wasn’t ready to share.”

  “I’m sure she doesn’t—”

  His eyes cut to hers, honey hardening to amber. “I fucked up. There’s no way to erase that.”

  Shan was silent for a long moment. “Maybe not,” she murmured. “But you can still move forward.”

  “Yeah. In time.”

  Her lips twisted. “I know all about that.”

  He squeezed her arm. “I know you do.”

  “I have to”—she gestured at Rylie—“Pepper has been watching her too much lately.”

  “Pepper doesn’t seem to mind.”

  “No.” Shan smiled. “They’re buds. I’m lucky to have her as a friend.”

  Finn nodded.

  She lifted her hand. “Well. I’ll just—”

  “I’ll walk with you.”

  Not an offer. Also, not exactly a command.

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about either. All she knew was that it wasn’t horrible having Finn at her side as she strode down the beach.

  Especially when he said, “If I look pathetic enough, will you make me peanut butter milk to go with this banana bread?”

  In fact, her heart leaped, her stomach fluttered, and she laughed loud and outright and freer than she had in ages. “No need to look pathetic,” she said. “I already promised Ry earlier.”

  He fist-pumped.

  She grinned.

  He brushed a lock of hair out of her face.

  Her heart thumped.

  And maybe, just maybe, she thought that hope of a brown girl falling for a movie star might not be so far-fetched after all.

  “No, Brian,” she said into the phone. “Ann can’t borrow my car. I’m picking up a few of Rylie’s friends after school for a playdate and—”

  “Can’t you walk?” he interrupted. “Ann’s car isn’t ready at the shop and she needs to take Billy to his piano lesson.”

  Her teeth ground together. “I’m taking the girls to the fair. It’s too far to walk.”

  “Do the fair another time.” He sighed, a sharp burst of sound through the speaker. “I don’t have time for this shit. It’s my car. I’ll send someone to pick up the keys. Leave them in the office.”

  A year ago, she would have given in.

  To keep the peace, so he wouldn’t be mad at her, so . . . no, because she’d been weak and fragile and easily pushed around.

  Today?

  No.

  Hell. No.

  “Absolutely not,” she snapped. “The title is in my name”—she made sure of that after the fucking house fiasco—“and Rylie and I have plans—”

  “Don’t be such a—”

  Her reply was sharp and tipped with ice. “I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you, Brian Torres.”

  Silence.

  Then, “What is she supposed to do?”

  Shannon sighed. “I don’t know. Call a Lyft, or a friend, or hell, skip piano for today,” she said, tossing up her free hand, even though he couldn’t see her. “Ask the dealership for a loner. Do something. I don’t care, as long as that something doesn’t involve me.”

  “I—”

  “This isn’t my problem,” she interrupted, her tone incredulous, “and I cannot believe you would actually think it was, or expect me to drop everything for the woman you cheated on me with.”

  “That’s not fair—”

  She snorted. “I stopped believing in fair a long time ago.” Just like she’d stopped believing in him. “Figure out your own life, Brian, and leave me to mine.”

  “I’m traveling—”

  She hung up with shaking fingers, both because the anger was fading and also because adrenaline had filled her system, leaving her jittery. She could not believe she’d just done that. She was really freaking proud of herself for doing it, took definite pleasure in both cutting him off multiple times, as well as the hanging up . . . but she still couldn’t believe she’d done it.

  Go her.

  She was moving forward, growing some of that spine she wanted to pass on to Ry.

  She was making progress. Finally.

  “I miss Daddy.”

  Three words that were the gut punch to end all gut punches.

  Because . . . well, Shannon didn’t miss Brian anymore. She’d long since moved beyond missing her asshole ex-husband.

  But she hated that Ry missed him, that Ry missed him being here for these events.

  The first day of school.

  He’d missed kindergarten.

  He was now missing first grade.

  God, how had she wasted so many years with such a fucking jerk? The only good thing was that because Ry was in first this year, Shan thought she should be less of a mess than last year.

  Less being no tears.

  “I know, honey,” she said gently. “Your dad wishes he could be here. You know that. He’s just really busy at work.”

  Ry made a face. “He’s always busy at work.”

  Yeah. He was.

  And with his other family.

  Shannon knew that it was only a matter of time before Ry discovered that, and she wanted to shield her daughter from that for as long as possible. But she also knew that someday Ry would find out, and her daughter would be hurt, possibly devastated . . . and it would be because Shannon had picked the wrong guy to place her trust in.

  Fuck, that was painful.

  Her only hope was that she could protect Rylie for as long as possible.

  No. Her task wasn’t to protect Ry so much as it was for her to make her daughter strong enough to not need Brian in her life. To recognize it would be great to have people in it who cared for her, but that she didn’t need them to be happy
.

  Which meant Shan needed to learn how to do the same.

  Be thankful for the good people but not desperate. Not build the foundation of her life on someone else’s shoulders.

  It had to come from her first.

  “Let’s make a tradition,” she said, grabbing Ry’s lunchbox from the fridge and helping her zip it into her backpack.

  “What’s a tradition?”

  “It’s something special we can do every year on the first day of school. We can get ice cream, or I can make you peanut butter milk, or we can go to the park.” Shannon lightly squeezed Rylie’s shoulders. “It’ll be something fun and special, and just the two of us.”

  Her daughter’s expression screwed up. “Just us?”

  She nodded. “Just us.”

  “Can we go buy socks?”

  Shannon’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “You always say that a pair of cozy socks makes you feel better,” Rylie said. “So, I want a pair of cozy socks.”

  Cozy socks were something Shan was addicted to, although they weren’t exactly conducive to this beach life.

  But her daughter wanted a pair of socks.

  She couldn’t get Brian here, but she could damn well find Ry the coziest pair of socks on the planet.

  “Yeah, baby,” she said, standing up. “After school, you and I will go to Sock-a-Palooza”—the tourist sock shop in downtown Stoneybrook—“and we’ll find you some cozy socks.”

  “And you, too, Mommy,” she said, slipping her backpack onto her shoulders. “It’s your first day of school, too. You need cozy socks.”

  “Okay.” She nodded, grabbed her coffee mug, her own lunchbox. “School. Socks. Pizza for dinner.”

  “Pizza!” A beat. “With extra pineapple?”

  Shan bit back a shudder, considering she was firmly in the camp that pineapple on pizza was disgusting. “Absolutely.”

  “Yes!” Rylie pushed out the front door. “This is going to be the best day ever!”

  Shan followed her, locking up, waving to Finn when she saw him drinking a cup of coffee on his front deck. But they didn’t stop, instead turning toward the boardwalk that would take them from the beach and toward school.