“Did you fall? Why didn’t you call out for help?” I worried, giving her fingers a squeeze.
“I told them not to call you.”
“Calling me is their job.”
“I don’t want bodyguards.” She grumped, and I had to fight the urge to smile.
“Are you hurt?” I demanded.
Her eyes lowered. “I had a panic attack,” she mumbled.
Letting out a relieved breath, I grasped her around the arms to help tow her upright. “Did you take your meds?”
She nodded. “I was waiting for them to kick in before I went back out there.”
Nodding, I pushed her head down onto my shoulder, surrounding her with my arms. To my surprise, she cuddled in, letting out a quiet sigh.
My stomach flipped, and a surge of adrenaline shot through me. Such a small thing, but the impact it had was enormous.
Sure, I’d held her before. Hell, last night, she slept in my arms. But this was a first. She came to me almost willingly, as though she’d been waiting or craving the comfort I could provide.
Usually, she was hesitant and reaching out seemed to cost her something. Right now, she took, willingly soaking in something she needed, and what she needed was me.
Ah, fuck. I was so gone.
She owned me now. My heart was bought and paid for by a woman I’d only kissed twice.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered.
My fingers curled into my palms. I really didn’t think I’d ever heard sweeter words. I was winning her over. Little by little.
“What happened earlier, is that what caused the panic attack?”
She was quiet for a moment. Then I felt her head shake. “Sometimes I have flashbacks.”
“Flashbacks,” I echoed, wrinkling my nose.
“I was at a place like this the day of my accident...” Her voice trailed away, arms withdrawing.
As she pulled away, my body tightened, ready to keep her near.
Turns out I didn’t have to fight for her because she stayed close on her own, tucking her arms between us, resting her palms on the width of my chest.
Without thought, I kissed the top of her head. “From now on, when you need to come here, I’ll come with you.”
“We should go,” she said, slipping away.
Turning her back, she adjusted her shirt, then pulled her hair into a ponytail, holding it for a moment before letting it fall back into place. When she turned back, a few strands already clung to her cheek and neck.
“Do you want to pull your hair back?”
“Always,” she quipped. “But I only ever do that when I’m alone.”
Ah, her hair was just another shield she wore.
How exhausting.
“C’mon.” I held out my hand. “Let’s finish getting what you need so we can go.”
Her hesitation didn’t deter me. I just grasped her hand and towed her along behind me. The guards didn’t even glance down at our clasped hands when we came out of the bathroom. One stood alert, gazing around the shop, and the other stood dutifully holding her shopping basket.
“Thank you,” she said, reaching for it.
Clearing his throat, he gripped it harder. “It’s my pleasure to carry it.”
I saw a protest forming on her lips, so I squeezed her hand.
“Thank you.” She relented. “I think I have everything I need for right now. I’ll just pay. Then we can go.”
The cashier stared at me the entire time she rang up Zoey’s stuff.
“You didn’t call the press, did you?” I asked, leaning on the counter.
She hit some button, and the computer made a weird sound. Alarmed, she quickly corrected what she did and then giggled. “Of course not.”
There was a stack of paper sacks on the counter. I snatched one up and then leaned farther over the counter toward the girl.
“Can I borrow your pen?” I asked, pointing to the ballpoint stuck behind her ear.
She nodded.
I plucked it from its place and went back to my side of the counter. Zoey stared between me and the cashier with wide eyes.
I glanced at her and winked.
“What’s your name?” I asked the girl.
“Sophie.”
“Well, Soph,” I said, scrawling a personalized message across the paper. “Can I call you Soph?”
She nodded emphatically.
“Thank you for keeping this little visit between us. I’m sure I’ll be back from time to time.”
The girl blinked. “You shop for makeup?”
I laughed. “No. But my girl does.”
“Y-your girl...”
Zoey kicked me. I didn’t even flinch.
Flashing a smile, I handed the pen and autograph over. “Maybe don’t tell the press about that either.”
“Can I take a selfie with you?”
I hopped over the counter and leaned close to her, throwing up two fingers. Once the photo was taken, I pulled out some cash, but Zoey made a sound and handed over her card instead.
I let it slide because I was already getting away with a shit ton of shenanigans today.
It was a good day, huh?
The guards went outside first, then held the door open when they deemed it safe for us to leave the store.
“What the hell was that?” Zoey asked, turning on me the second we were on the sidewalk.
“I take selfies with fans a lot.”
“I wasn’t talking about the selfie.”
“The autograph, then? Figured she earned it since she didn’t call all her friends.”
“Nick,” she growled.
“I kinda like it when you growl like that.”
Bright pink bloomed on her cheeks, her lips snapping shut.
Chuckling, I pulled the keys out of my pocket and tossed them to the closest bodyguard. “Can you drive a bike?”
He glanced between the keys and the motorcycle parked beside us. “Yes.”
“Good. Follow us back to the studio. I’ll ride with Zoey in the SUV.”
“You have a motorcycle?” she exclaimed.
“It’s not mine. It’s one of the producers’.”
“What are you doing with it?”
“I needed to get here fast. The traffic would have slowed me down in the Viper.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You—”
I stepped closer to her. “Yep. I violated my contract just to come see you.”
She frowned. “It says in your contract you can’t drive a motorcycle?”
“I’m worth a lot of money. They don’t want me doing shit that could wreck this face.” I quipped, pointing to myself. “Sexiest man alive, remember?”
Something akin to hurt flashed behind her eyes. It was there and gone so fast I almost missed it. Almost.
Too late, I realized what I said.
“Zoey.”
Her chin tilted up. Serious brown eyes zeroed in on mine. “Why would you violate your contract like that?”
I took a step forward. “Because you needed me.”
Surprise crossed her face once more. “We should go.” Spinning around toward the parking lot, she nearly pitched sideways off the sidewalk.
“Whoa,” I said, catching her around the waist.
Her breathing was uneven when our eyes connected. For long electric moments, attraction and chemistry zinged between us.
Scrambling back, she tugged anxiously at her hair.
Feeling like I wanted to get away with even more than I already had, I slid my hand around hers. She jolted, glancing down in shock.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, her voice breathless.
“Helping you to the car,” I answered casually. “You seem a little unsteady on your feet.”
“Am not!” she shot back.
But she didn’t pull her hand from mine.
The paper clutched in my hands crumbled beneath my anger. The way it crushed and wrinkled was like a surge of oxygen right into my lungs.
At first, I thought these were just rumors. I thought it was promotion for a film.
Until I saw them that day on set. I noted the way he looked at what was mine.
He’d shielded her with his body. Ushered her into his car. They disappeared behind the gates of his property and didn’t reappear until morning.
She had protection. Two men shadowing her every move. He hired bodyguards. Trying to keep me from what was mine!
And now this! The entire dashboard vibrated beneath the force of my fist. How dare he show up here—at our meeting place!
The edge of the paper sliced into my finger, and the prick of pain brought me back.
After today, she’d understand that I was the one in charge. She couldn’t hide behind makeup, behind the gates of the set, especially not behind him.
Smiling, I uncrumpled the paper, smoothing out the wrinkles to stare down at the words.
Soon, everyone would know exactly where she belonged.
“Where’s the beef?” Carson asked, motioning to my one shopping bag filled with new supplies.
“In your pants?” I quipped without even thinking.
He didn’t miss a beat. “Well, obviously, I’m well equipped, but you seem to be lacking.” Shuffling over in his rainbow sequin Converse, he peered in the bag like there might be a lizard there and not makeup. “Honey, I thought you went shopping?”
“I’m tired,” I said, sinking into my chair. There was still a powdery residue clinging to it from earlier.
A sympathetic sound floated over my head. “I’ll take care of it. Leave all the supplies to me.”
An unexpected weight lifted off me, and I perked up. “Really?”
Waving his hand, he said, “What are besties for?”
“I’ll give you my card before we leave later.”
“Shopping with someone else’s money. My favorite thing. Besides beef that is.”
I made a gagging sound.
“Girl, you brought it up.” He gave me the side eye. “Dirty ho.”
I laughed. It felt good. It seemed like forever since I’d last laughed. Since I’d last felt relaxed and carefree. More and more unfortunate things were happening. My grip on reality was starting to shake. I felt my insides beginning to crumble.
I had a bad feeling. A feeling I couldn’t seem to make go away.
“So,” Carson whispered, perching on the arm of my chair, “was that Nick I saw speeding out of the lot on someone’s motorcycle just a bit ago and then returning inside the SUV you left in?”
My cheeks heated. Shyness and also maybe a little bit of excitement bloomed within me. “Maybe,” I answered, picking at a loose string on my jeans.
“One minute, he was sitting in my chair, getting did, and the next, he was answering his phone and running out the door.”
“I told them not to call him,” I murmured to myself.
“I, for one, enjoy seeing that sexy specimen of a man running around after you.” Sighing, he put a hand over his heart. Today, he was dressed in a powder-blue button-up dress shirt with the top few buttons undone and the collar turned up around his jaws. “You lucky bitch.”
“He just feels responsible because of the press,” I said, not wanting him to make too much out of it.
Or maybe it was myself I was reminding.
Thinking back to last night when he peeled away the hood and saw the truth of who I really was... Since that moment, I’d been struggling.
Struggling not to fall. Struggling not to think of him, rely on him... want him.
Someone like him could never actually want someone like me. We were incompatible. A modern day Beauty and the Beast. We might be thrown together right now, but that would shift and change... Who I was never would.
Remember that, Zoey.
“Don’t make me smack those falsies right off your face,” Carson scolded.
Offended, I reached up to gently feel the false lashes lining my eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Girl, no. That’s a cardinal sin.” Pursing his lips, he pointed a manicured finger at me. Yep. He got manicures. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short.”
“I’m not. I just know my place.”
He raised a sculpted brow.
I sighed. “I’m behind the scenes in the makeup trailer. He’s in front of the camera, made for the spotlight.”
“The way he acts says the only spotlight he sees shines right down on you.”
Butterflies floated around in my belly. “Ugh, enough,” I said, pushing out of the chair, making him stumble off the arm. “I need to try and organize this.”
“Make a list as you go of all the stuff you didn’t buy.”
Hefting the smaller kit I often carried around onto the counter, I frowned down at how light it felt now. My frown deepened when I noticed the lock on it was broken. “Great,” I muttered.
“Look here.” Carson beckoned, right beside me again.
I turned, and he started dabbing my face with blotting papers.
“What are you doing?” I asked, flinching away.
“You’ve been sparkling. And Lord knows that look isn’t for anyone. Not even Edward Cullen.”
FYI: Carson was obsessed with Twilight.
His joke was funny, but I didn’t laugh. I was too busy feeling my stomach twist because his hands were on my face. Close to my scars. Close to all the work I did to cover them. I had broken out in a clammy sweat when I’d been freaking out in the bathroom. I had gulped down a few handfuls of water from the faucet when I took my pills...
Jerking away from Carson, I spun toward the giant mirror behind us to make sure all the coverage was still in place.
“You’re still covered.”
My eyes met his in the mirror. A knowing look passed between us.
“You saw the photo online,” I practically mouthed.
“Briefly.”
“Carson, I—” For once, I felt absolutely guilty for hiding my face. I’d never experienced this feeling before. I never, not even for a brief second, felt like I was deceiving anyone by hiding the way I looked. To me, it was about survival.
He held up his hand. “Stop there.”
“What?”
He tugged me around, guiding me into the chair. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I understand.”
“How could you?”
Patting a fluffy brush into the lid of some loose powder, he changed his words. “Maybe I don’t. But we’re friends, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Most people would feel betrayed.”
“I am not most people.”
“Hashtag fact.”
“Mm-hmm.” He agreed. The brush moved over my face as he fixed my makeup. “But I do hope you know I’m not the type to judge a person. I know all too well what judgement feels like.”
My hand covered his, stopping his movements. “You are the best person I know. You’re the only friend I have. I didn’t say anything because I just wanted to keep you all to myself. You’re the only thing in my life that doesn’t have baggage.”
He handed the powder and brush to me so he could reach into his fanny pack (white today) to pull out the hot-pink fan he always carried. “You’re going to ruin my makeup,” he blubbered, fanning his face while tilting it up toward the ceiling.
I started tearing up too. My God, I was an emotional wreck.
When he was sufficiently fanned, he went back to fixing my face. “No pressure, but if you ever want to talk, I’ll listen. I won’t even give you my opinion.”
I laughed. “Liar.”
“My opinions are very wise.”
“They are.” I agreed. After another moment, he lowered the powder and reached for a lipstick. “Thank you,” I said, meeting his eyes. “Someday, I’ll tell you everything, okay?”
He waved away my words like it was no big deal, but I knew he was touched. “I’d rather you tell me every detail about how good Mr. S
exiest Man Alive is in bed.”
I gasped, making the lipstick he was applying smear.
He looked at the mess, pursing his lips. “You probably looked like that after he kissed you senseless. Amirite?”
“Carson! Oh my God!”
“You ain’t denying it.”
“I have not slept with him!”
“But you kissed.”
My gaze slid away, and I was pretty sure my face turned fifteen shades of red.
“I better be maid of honor at the wedding.”
I smacked him. “Stop!”
“I’m not wearing green.”
“Fix my lipstick,” I demanded.
He heckled, and I tried not to smile. A little best friend time was exactly what I needed.
I knew Nick entered the trailer before I even laid eyes on him. As I mentioned before, the air in every room changed when he walked in. Something about his presence altered everything around him. And now his presence altered everything inside me.
I am in trouble.
“Has anyone seen or talked to Callie today?” he asked the room.
Peeking around Carson, I saw him frowning at his phone.
Everyone shook their heads.
Josh, who was across the room in Laura’s chair, spun around to look at Nick. “You haven’t seen her at all today?”
“No,” he muttered. “She texted this morning that she would be late because of a busted pipe, but that was hours ago. She hasn’t called or answered any of the messages I’ve left since.”
“Maybe she lost her phone. Seems like something she would do,” Laura offered.
“But she would still be here,” Nick insisted.
“Maybe she’s sick?” Carson suggested.
Nick thought about it, then shook his head. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
“Do you have any contact information for her friends or family?” Josh asked, concern clear on his handsome face.
“No.”
“Do you have her address?” I asked.
Nick glanced up at me, and damn, if I couldn’t help but notice the way his green eyes softened just a little. “Of course.”
“Maybe you should go check on her.”
With a decisive nod, he tucked the cell into his jeans while his long legs ate up the distance between us. Carson moved aside as he reached for my hand, tugging me out of the chair. “Good idea. Let’s go.”
Moth to a Flame Page 21