He didn’t do love. He didn’t even think he was capable of love, and at the end of the day, he wasn’t a guy I wanted to fall in love with anyway. I just needed him to take away the pain, to make me forget, and to make me feel better – even if it was only for a little while. Emotions I could come away with feeling might cloud that, but knowing that wasn’t enough to stop what we were doing. I was in, and there was no going back.
* * *
“Shit, that was so wrong,” I mumbled to myself as I covered my eyes with my hands.
Phillip had gone to dispose of the condom, and as soon as he left my bed, clarity started hitting me at full force. The regret I knew would come had surfaced faster than I’d expected, and I was kicking myself for being so weak.
“It felt pretty right to me,” he said as he ambled back into the room and collapsed onto the bed next to me.
“That was bad,” I said, my hands still covering my eyes. “Bad, bad, bad.”
“I think the two orgasms you had would disagree with you,” he teased.
I let my hands fall away and turned to look at him. He was on his side, watching me in amusement.
“The sex wasn’t bad,” he told me, as if there wasn’t any room for argument.
“I know that wasn’t bad. It was amazing, but it was also wrong. We shouldn’t have done it.”
He looked at me quizzically. “Weren’t you the one who initiated it?”
I nodded miserably. “Yes, and it’s only because I’m so weak.”
Phillip looked confused as hell, and with good reason too. I’d totally turned on him in about three seconds flat.
“What just happened here?” he asked, gesturing between us.
I sighed and shifted onto my side so I could look at him. “I’m panicking,” I told him.
He reached out and rested his hand on my bare hip, and I felt my eyes flutter closed. God, I was weak.
“I see absolutely nothing wrong with what we just did, Sabrina,” Phillip said softly.
When I opened my eyes, he was gazing at me with concern. I found myself wishing he was indifferent, wishing that he’d gotten out of bed, gotten dressed, and had left me alone to wallow in my own guilt. But he hadn’t left. He was right next to me, and he was worried about me. That made things so much harder.
In an effort to rid myself of the feeling that he was seeing things I wanted to keep hidden, I shifted my gaze. Of course he was still completely naked, so that served to do nothing but distract me further.
I blinked my eyes a few times so I could focus on what I wanted to say, forcing myself to look at his only moderately sexy forearm. Thoughts like the ones I was having were exactly what had gotten me into trouble in the first place. I had to stay focused before I dove back in without thinking for another round with him.
I took a deep breath. “Phillip, I’m supposed to be your sponsor. I don’t think sleeping together is the most responsible thing for us to do.”
“I’d have to disagree,” he said, sounding amused.
I forced myself to look at his expression and was greeted with that sexy smirk of his that I loved so much. Dammit. All I wanted to do was curl up against his body again. I wanted him to roll on top of me, cover me with his weight, and make me lose my mind again and again.
That feeling wasn’t going to go away. It was so strong, and I knew the desire to be with him was going to continue to overwhelm me. I was going to keep wanting him, and being around him as much as I was, could end up killing me if I had to suppress what I was feeling for the next six months of the tour.
Before I knew what was happening, Phillip was pulling me against him, our bodies flush, touching at as many points possible, and I started to lose control. I closed my eyes as he pressed soft kisses to my face and neck.
“I think,” he said as he kissed me, “that if what we did was a mistake, then there’s nothing right in this world.”
Fuck, I wanted him. When he said things like that, it was all I could think about. I knew he was being dramatic for effect, that he didn’t really feel that way, but it was also the best sex I’d ever had, and a part of me felt like when I was with him, it really did feel like everything was right in the world. For him, it was just sex, but for me it was so much more.
“Fine,” I said as I wrapped my arms around his back, holding him against me. “Then I can’t be your sponsor anymore. I’m out.”
Just saying that felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Not only was I fairly certain that I was an epic failure at being a sponsor and actually helping him, but if I bowed out, if I helped find him someone new, I could lose the guilty feeling that had been eating away at me for weeks. I could just give in to my urges, sleep with him when I wanted, and I could say fuck it all to what was right and wrong.
Phillip froze, and then he pulled away from me. “You’re out? Am I that far gone that you’re just done?”
“No, it’s not that. I just want this too much,” I said as reached for him, cupping him lightly with my hand.
“Sabrina, don’t,” he said, pushing my hand away.
“What’s wrong? I thought you were into this?”
“Not at the expense of you being my sponsor. I didn’t think this was a pick one or the other situation. If I did, I might not have been so inclined to follow you in here tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because I need you,” he said, a serious look etched into his face.
“No, you need someone, but it doesn’t have to be me.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want someone new. Please. I don’t – it’s just – I trust you. And I don’t trust people easily – usually at all. I – I’ve told you things I’ve never told my therapist, that I never in a million years would have told Frank, my first sponsor. I didn’t feel like I could, but you don’t judge me, you don’t push me, and you listen. Please. I – I need you.”
As I listened to his words, I realized not only how hard it was for him to say them, but I also realized how much he meant them. He was being sincere, and it was doing funny things to my brain.
“I know I don’t say much,” he continued. “And there are a lot of things you don’t know about me, that I might not ever feel comfortable talking to you about, but I know that if I wanted to talk about something with you I could.”
“You’ve talked to me a lot lately,” I said as I cupped his cheek with my hand.
He moved his mouth and pressed a kiss to my palm. I let my hand fall, and he took it in his, lacing our fingers together.
“I know, and had it not been for that night two weeks ago, that probably wouldn’t have happened.”
“So you’re saying my abilities in bed were what made you trust me?” I asked doubtfully.
“No,” he said in a serious tone that I knew was for real. “It was the fact that you let me in. You didn’t push me away when you knew I needed someone. It didn’t matter that I didn’t even tell you what had me so keyed up. You were okay with that, and you let me in anyway. You were exactly who I needed that night, and I didn’t even know it.”
“Phillip, please tell me you don’t think I slept with you because it’s what I knew you needed.”
“No, Sabrina, that’s not it.”
“Because I am not that kind of girl. Despite what you might think, I don’t make a habit of having casual sex. In fact, before you, it had been a few years since I’d slept with anyone. I don’t do things like this.”
“But you like sex,” he said, drawing me closer.
I nodded. “I do. But I made a lot of mistakes a few years ago, and I told myself I wasn’t going to do that again.”
“So why did you sleep with me?” he asked as his arm wrapped around my waist. I sunk into the warmth and comfort of his body, his closeness making me feel centered. “What makes me so special?”
I could hear in his voice that he was being facetious. He didn’t feel special. He might have had a cocky air toward the rest of the world, but deep down, Phillip L
awton was just an insecure, lost little boy who didn’t feel loved by anyone. It might have been what endeared me to him more than anything else. But I couldn’t tell him that. He couldn’t know I felt that way.
I looked up into his expectant blue eyes, knowing I had to keep things light. “I slept with you because, frankly after seeing you naked in the shower that first time, I couldn’t really stop thinking about it. And you’re right, I like sex.”
“With men and women,” he said teasingly.
“Stop it,” I chastised him. “You do not have permission to throw that back in my face.”
He smiled. “Hey, I’m just saying, if you ever want to make out with another girl in front of me, I’d be game.”
“I’m sure you would be, but that’s not going to happen. Like I said, I did the lesbian thing, and it wasn’t for me. I’d rather just be with a really hot and sexy man these days,” I said, pressing against him.
Phillip traced my jawline with his finger, just like he had right before he’d kissed me for the first time.
“You’re beautiful, Sabrina,” he said softly, taking us back to a serious place. “And I appreciate so much what you’ve done for me. I don’t think for a second that you mercy-fucked me that night. I was talking about how you let me talk but not talk about why I’d come to your room in the first place. That meant a lot to me. I don’t like sharing, and you seem to get that about me. The sex was honestly just a bonus – a really great bonus – but it wasn’t something I expected.”
“But don’t you always expect sex?” I questioned, because I was afraid if he kept saying the things he was saying, I was going to return the sentiment and tell him something I’d regret.
I’d heard about all the women he’d been with since he’d become famous, and I knew reminding him of that was a surefire way to keep my heart guarded. Keep things light and fun. That’s what I needed to do.
But apparently Phillip wasn’t getting the message.
“I always expect sex from girls who throw themselves at me at clubs,” he said seriously, “Because that’s usually all they’re offering. Then I make them sign an NDA before I even consider doing anything more than kissing. It’s all very thought out and orchestrated. I haven’t had a night like I had with you in a long time where impulse took over, and I went with it. Even Nadia, the model I was sort of dating when I was at my worst, she signed an NDA the first night we hooked up. It’s why she never told anyone about my overdose a year and a half ago and my two stints in rehab. She was bound by law to keep her mouth shut.”
“So are you saying you want me to sign an NDA?” I asked him, a little appalled by what he’d just shared. I knew a lot of celebrities did that, but it was always surprising to hear, since I’d always considered sex to be more intimate. Contracts made it feel like a business transaction, which just made the whole act seem dirty.
Phillip shook his head. “No, I don’t want you to sign an NDA.”
“Good, because I wouldn’t anyway,” I said defiantly.
“You’re also not going to spill my secrets to anyone,” he said softly as if he was so sure that was the truth.
“I don’t plan on doing that. I know how it feels, and I’d never wish that on anyone.”
“And that’s why I trust you,” he said, and then he rolled to cover my body with his, his weight pressing me down as he hovered over me.
His hands were on either side of my face as he brushed his thumbs over my lips. “So you’ll stay my sponsor?”
I nodded.
“And we can still do this?”
I nodded, my gaze locked on his. I wasn’t even going to pretend anymore that I could think about saying no. It wasn’t an option.
“I’ve never had a friend like you before, Sabrina, but I’m glad you forced me to get to know you. It was something I didn’t even know I wanted.”
I didn’t want that word to affect me like it did, but hearing him call me his friend made my stomach tighten. I knew it wasn’t smart to want more, and I wanted to be his friend, but for some reason hearing him say it made a part of me feel empty.
But instead of letting him know that, I just smiled. “I’m glad I got to know you too. You’re more than just a pretty face and a great body.”
He smirked at me. “Yeah, but I’m those things too, right?”
I shook my head as I grinned up at his gorgeous face. “Of course.”
“Yeah, I know. I just wanted to hear you say it,” he said, but before I could protest, he silenced me with a kiss.
I let go of everything I was thinking and debating and weighing, and I let myself get lost with him. I told myself everything else was just semantics.
Chapter Thirteen
Sabrina
“I find it interesting that you have tattoos,” I told Phillip as I laid in his arms two weeks later.
We’d been spending almost every night together since we’d unofficially decided that we were going to be friends who had sex. So far we’d kept it at just that, although sometimes he’d share snippets of his life with me, little stories from when he was growing up or stories of him, Leah and Kelsey from high school that made me feel like he was more than just a friend.
I was slowly getting to know him, and I relished every little thing he’d told me about himself. I knew he didn’t share openly with most people, and I liked to think that something made me different from the rest, made me special.
Since we’d gotten back to the states, things had picked up from a PR standpoint for me, and Westside was spending more and more time working on their next album. Both Phillip and I were busy most days, but even though our schedules were packed, I smiled each time he sought me out throughout the day to say hi. It meant so much to me that he was making the effort when he had very little downtime.
I wasn’t sure anyone knew we were hooking up, since we reserved that for when we were alone at night in my suite or on my bus. During the day, we usually just hung out, and it was nice to have Phillip nearby when I was getting my hair and make-up done or when I was toiling through a new song, messing with lyrics or rhythms on my guitar. In all honestly, it was probably too nice, since I’d started to look forward to when I might see him each day.
I tried to tell myself that we were just friends. We weren’t anything more, especially to Phillip, since the last thing he wanted was a relationship of any kind. I told myself I didn’t really want that either, but the more I told myself that, the less it started to feel like an accurate sentiment of how I was feeling. I blamed Phillip for letting down his guard, for opening up, and for letting me see that good guy I knew he really was, that he rarely let the world see.
Since we’d been on tour, Westside had done a fair amount of interviews in different cities we’d stopped in, and sometimes I was interviewed with them or after them, so I’d gotten to witness firsthand how he interacted with the media. I’d also seen him with Westside’s fans during their meet-and-greet events or at the parties we had to go to every few days that were hosted by different media outlets.
And as I’d started spending more time with him, I’d taken notice to how stoic Phillip usually was when he was forced to be social. It just wasn’t his scene. In fact, if you didn’t know him, you’d assume his quiet, unaffected demeanor that was punctuated by sarcastic comments or jokes was who he was all the time. He maintained a smug smile, and he hugged the fans when he had to, but he didn’t seem as comfortable in his surroundings as his bandmates did.
If you didn’t know him, you probably wouldn’t think much of it, but I’d gotten to know him really well – and not just because I was sleeping with him. I got to see him when he was feeling silly and wouldn’t stop teasing and tickling me. I got to see him when he was tired and felt like cuddling and watching a movie, and I got to see him in those rare moments when he felt like opening up about things that I knew weren’t fun for him to talk about.
But we talked about them. I told him about Jason and about the first time I’d tried coke. I told
him about how I’d hated being a squeaky clean pop star, since that wasn’t me at all, and a part of me had wanted to just disappear when it had started to become too much for me to handle. I’d wanted the experience to end, and I knew a part of me might have intentionally crashed my career. Then I told him how it had felt to see the images the media had caught of me after I’d let go, when I’d spent most of my time high on something and not really aware of what I was doing.
My breakdown had been more public than anything Phillip had done while he was using. It seemed like he’d always been more controlled, but I’d looked for any reason to have a party – anytime, anywhere, with anyone who’d play with me. I was a mess, and looking back, taking stock in who I was now, a part of me hated that girl who’d been so lost and alone that she didn’t know where else to turn.
Phillip knew how that felt though. He’d been there. He’d told me stories of what it had been like for him in high school, how he’d looked forward to getting fucked up whenever and however he could, how he’d smoked weed and popped Adderall daily, how he drank most nights, and how he’d looked to harder stuff when he was feeling particularly bad. Just hearing what he’d put his body through, it was a wonder he’d come out of it alive. It was a wonder either of us had.
But neither of us were those people anymore. Phillip might have only been clean for a few months, but I already knew he wasn’t the same person he’d been. I got to see his good side so often that I tended to forget what a jerk he’d been when we’d first met and how unhappy and unsettled he’d seemed. He wasn’t that guy anymore – at least not when he was around me.
But he also wasn’t the guy that a part of me wanted him to be. He was someone I liked having in my life, who I looked forward to seeing, and I was always disappointed when I woke up in the morning to find that he’d left my bed after I’d fallen asleep. He was always on my mind when he wasn’t nearby, and I knew that although we might be friends who had sex in his eyes, I wanted us to be so much more.
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