by Claire Adams
“You're an angel,” Josh said fervently. “You have no idea how shitty I feel right now.”
I laughed. “Probably about as shitty as I do,” I said. “Although I seem to remember drinking more than you did last night.”
“I drank more while you guys were dancing,” Josh said defensively. “Plus, I pre-gamed.”
“Just teasing,” I said, sitting on the coffee table across from him.
He swung his legs around so that he was sitting fully upright, and the blanket fell away. I blushed, realizing that he was only wearing his boxers. It wasn't the first time that I'd seen him in his underwear, but it had been a while. And for some reason, I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away from his chiseled abs.
He is definitely more fit than he was last time I saw him naked. Half-naked. Whatever he is.
I felt a blush creep across my face, and I took a quick sip of coffee, hoping I could hide the rising color behind my mug.
“Sorry I crashed out here,” Josh said, gesturing toward the couch. “When we got here last night, I was just so exhausted that I couldn't make it home. I got you put to bed, and then I decided to just pass out on the couch.”
“You know I don't mind,” I told him. “I have a guest room, though.”
Josh shrugged. “Your couch is comfortable.”
I paused. “I don't remember all that much about last night. I didn't do anything embarrassing, did I? Did I get sick? My mouth tastes disgusting.”
“Not sick, not that I know of anyway,” Josh told me. “And nothing embarrassing, either.” He shrugged. “We mostly just danced, and then we got a table and chatted until everyone was ready to go home.”
I frowned. “But Mandy and Jasmine left first?”
“Only a little bit before we did. You wanted to stay.”
“Sorry,” I told him. “I didn't mean to make you stay with me.”
“You didn't. I offered. And I didn't mind. We were both ready to leave at the same time.”
“We took an Uber?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Josh said. He grinned. “You passed out in the back seat, and I had to carry you inside. Fortunately, I know where your spare key is, so I didn't have to go digging through your purse.”
“My key was clipped to my bra strap, so you wouldn't have found it in my purse anyway,” I admitted.
Josh's face did something funny, an uncharacteristic flip of emotion. But then, it settled back to its normal, easy neutral.
I shook my head and moved to the couch next to him, tugging part of the blanket over me and curling up into his warmth. “God, I feel like shit,” I complained. “Can we just sit here and watch movies all day?”
“I wish I could,” Josh groaned. “Unfortunately, some of us have to work.”
I sighed. “I probably have to do some of that as well,” I admitted.
“What are you working on at the moment?” Josh asked curiously.
“Nothing interesting,” I sighed. “I've started a few things since Andrew and I broke up, but I can't seem to sustain any emotion for long enough to carry me through completion of a project. The one I started yesterday is probably going to end up in the trash.”
“Why did you break up with him anyway?” Josh asked. “You didn't really tell me at the bar.”
That was pretty much the last thing that I wanted to talk about. I wrinkled my nose. “Things just weren't working out between us,” I told him. “I didn't see a future in it.”
“But why not?” Josh pressed. “There must have been some reason. I thought you guys had talked about all the big things pretty early on. You said he wanted kids and a dog and everything else that you wanted in life. You were all excited to tell me that, after your third date.”
“I don't know, we just had personality issues,” I said vaguely.
Josh snorted. “What, did you wake up one morning and suddenly realize that you were both temperamental artists?”
“We knew that from the start,” I admitted. “But things just started to go downhill.”
“Your excuses are getting vaguer and vaguer,” Josh said. “I'm starting to think that you don't want to tell me what really happened between the two of you.”
I froze, not sure what to say in response to that. I couldn't tell him the truth. Or at least, I had to figure out how to tell him the truth first. I didn't want to ruin Josh's and my friendship, and I was afraid that telling him about that last argument might do just that.
Josh squeezed my shoulder. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean to upset you; I'm just being nosey. I feel like I don't know half of what I should know about your life at the moment. I miss back when I used to be able to anticipate exactly what you were thinking.”
“You were never able to do that,” I said, laughing.
“Nah,” Josh admitted, grinning. “But I pretended I could.” His face sobered. “Maybe you just need some time to yourself to assess your priorities.”
“I think that's exactly it,” I said, relieved that he was apparently going to let me off without telling him why I had broken up with Andrew. I must really look pathetic that morning.
“Get to know yourself a little better,” Josh continued, nodding his head. “I know that's something that I always need, coming out of a relationship.”
I snorted. “Like you're ever coming out of a relationship,” I teased. “When was the last time you had a girlfriend?” I snickered as he rolled his eyes, but then I grew serious as well. “Thanks for always being there for me,” I told him. “You do always get me, in ways that no one else, not even Mandy, does.”
For a moment, I thought I saw a brief flicker of annoyance in his eyes when I said that, but it was gone before I could register it. I gave a mental shrug. I had probably only imagined it.
“What time is your conference call?” I asked.
“Eleven,” Josh told me, glancing at his watch. “I have a little time.”
“Enough time to get a greasy, greasy breakfast at Donahue's?” I asked, a sly grin spreading on my face. I knew there was no way he was going to say no to that.
Josh groaned. “As if I need my body to feel any worse,” he complained, but I could tell from his smile that he was game. “Let me finish my coffee first,” he said.
There was a knock on the front door as we were finishing. “I should get that,” I said. “I'm expecting a package.”
“No problem,” Josh said, leaning back on the couch.
For the second time in as many days, I made the stupid mistake of not looking through the peephole before flinging the door open. I blinked at the man standing there and then groaned. “Andrew. Again?”
“Good morning,” Andrew said happily. “I thought I could take you out to breakfast. Our usual Wednesday tradition.”
“Now's not a good time,” I told him tersely. There would never again be a good time, but I didn't have it in me that morning, feeling like I did, to break up with him again. I just wanted him off my front porch.
“Late night?” Andrew asked sympathetically. “You look exhausted. Maybe after breakfast, I could drop you off at the spa. My treat, of course. Or we could come back here and do a little couples massage. Remember, I give a really good foot massage.”
“Andrew, what part of us being broken up are you not getting?” I snapped, unable to contain my frustration any longer.
Andrew's expression grew stormy. Then, his eyes slipped past me, and he looked positively furious. “You dirty slut,” he snarled.
I glanced behind me and saw Josh standing there in my hallway, his hands on his hips. He'd thrown on his slacks, at least, but he was still without a shirt. He looked positively delicious, my hungover brain told me.
And Andrew was having none of it. “You're a fucking bitch,” he said succinctly, flipping me off as he stomped off my porch.
I sighed and deflated. Josh and I hadn't done anything, but I still felt guilty having him there, especially in his shirtless state. I knew exactly what Andrew must be thinking right now, and
the picture that those thoughts painted in my head wasn't pretty.
“He can't get away with that,” Josh growled, stalking towards the door like he was going to go after Andrew.
I put a hand on Josh's arm. “Let him go,” I sighed, forcing a brave smile on my face. “Fighting with him isn't going to solve anything. I've already gotten what I wanted. He's gone.”
“He shouldn't talk to you like that, ex or no,” Josh maintained. “Especially not showing up here to take you out to breakfast.” He paused, his brow furrowing. “You did actually tell him, in as many words, that you were breaking up with him, right? You didn't just assume that he'd take the hint?”
“No, I didn't just assume he'd take the hint,” I snapped, rolling my eyes. “I'm not stupid. And despite what Andrew just called me, I really try not to be a bitch.”
“Sorry, that was a joke,” Josh said, looking contrite.
I winced at the hurt look on his face. “I'm sorry, too,” I mumbled. “It's just a sore subject. He keeps turning up here. I don't know what to do.” I shook my head, hating the way my brain felt, like it was rattling around in my skull. “And right now, I feel like shit.”
“Me too,” Josh said with a laugh. “Let's go get some breakfast.” He paused. “But we'll give him a head start first. Want another cup of coffee?”
“Please,” I said gratefully, following Josh back into the house.
“I think I might need to get away from here for a while,” I sighed, looking around as I clutched my mug towards me.
Josh glanced over at me. “Yeah?” he asked, his face impassive.
“I'm not running away,” I said quickly, even though I knew that wasn't what he was thinking. “I just need some time to think. And to get away from some bad memories for a while.”
“That makes sense,” Andrew agreed cautiously. “Do you have any idea where you're going to go?”
“No idea,” I sighed, falling back onto the couch.
“I'm sure you'll figure it out,” Andrew said, joining me and patting my knee comfortingly.
Chapter Seven
Josh
I paused just inside the door of the Starlight, letting my eyes adjust to the dim lighting. It was a Friday night, and the place was jumping. I watched a couple of giggling girls walk by, their hips swaying in time with the music, and their long dresses leaving nothing to the imagination.
It had been a while since I'd been out on my own. Out on the prowl. But I hadn't been able to turn my thoughts away from Kylie lately. I figured I probably just needed to have sex. A good romp in the sheets to get it out of my system. It had been too long since the last time I'd gotten off to anything other than my own hand.
I sidled up to the bar, blinking at the bartender. For a moment, with the lights turned down like they were, the guy looked like Kylie's ex, Andrew. But I realized just before I said something nasty that this guy was a bit shorter and had dirty blond hair instead of Andrew's brown hair.
I shook my head. I needed a drink.
I couldn't help it. I was still annoyed with Kylie for not letting me go after the dude. I didn't know what the hell Andrew's problem was, but he definitely shouldn't be speaking to Kylie like that. And he definitely shouldn't still be hanging around her, after she'd made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him.
I had to let it go, though. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
As I waited for my whiskey sour, I turned to eye the clusters of females scattered around the bar. Women, they always seemed to come in groups. Not that I ever had any trouble getting one on her own. It was a little easier when I had a wingman, but girls were attracted to me. I didn't know if it was my actual looks or my well-tailored suits, but I knew that if I waited at the bar, I'd have a girl talking to me within 10 minutes.
Sure enough, a bottle blonde in a tight-fitting pink dress hopped up on the bar stool next to me within minutes of me getting my drink. She cocked her head to the side. “What should I have?”
I shrugged. “A piña colada?”
She laughed. “It's December, silly. Piña coladas are a summertime drink.”
Kylie drank piña coladas year-round, especially in the winter, but I knew better than to tell her that. Instead, I smiled charmingly at her. “Mulled wine, then?”
“Mm, that sounds yummy,” she agreed. She placed her order and then turned to me, showing off her long legs as she folded them in front of her. “I'm Marlene, by the way.”
“Josh,” I introduced myself, gently shaking her hand.
“You must be an actor, right?” Marlene asked. “Or at least a model.”
“Neither of those,” I told her.
She widened her eyes at me and then leaned in conspiratorially. “You really are an actor, aren't you? Don't worry, I won't tell.”
Part of me wanted to roll my eyes, but I was looking for a one-night stand, after all. What did it matter if the girl was a ditz who judged a book by its cover?
“Actually, I'm a businessman,” I told her. I wondered if I could use my normal personality to pick her up, or if she could tell how rich I was and was after the money. I decided to put it to the test by pretending to be just an average guy. “I'm a boring office manager,” I lied.
“I'm going to be the most famous actress on the silver screen,” Marlene said, tossing her blonde hair back.
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes again. That was what every ditzy girl in LA wanted. She probably worked as a waitress or a retail sales clerk in her day-to-day life. I spared a moment to wonder what she was doing here, in such a ritzy club, but it didn't really matter.
“Do you get to travel a lot as a businessman?” Marlene asked. Before I had the chance to respond, she was off. “I just got back from Tuscany. That's in Italy. It's gorgeous there. These beautiful rolling fields, and the most incredible colors that you've ever seen. Plus, all these pretty little houses dropped down in the middle of the hills. You'd never even believe how quaint it is.”
“I've actually been to Tuscany,” I told her. I had a house in Tuscany, as a matter of fact, but if I told her that, I had a feeling she'd be all over me for my money, and that was exactly what I didn't want. So, I played it off. “I went there back when I was in college. I'm sure a lot has changed.”
“Oh, definitely,” Marlene said, as though she knew all about the changes that the region had faced. “But it's still so beautiful. You could almost see yourself living there. But I'd miss all the action of LA. Our sleepy little village only had one bar, and it was mostly full of old men. Imagine me, sitting in a room full of old men! And all speaking Italian, too, and only Italian.” She said it as though she was affronted that they might speak Italian in Italy.
My thoughts strayed again toward Kylie. She'd taken French in college, but I knew that she'd really enjoyed it. She had some appreciation for other cultures, certainly, unlike the woman currently sitting in front of me.
But it wasn't fair to Marlene for me to be making those comparisons, even if they were in the silence of my head. Best to distract Marlene by talking about something I knew she wouldn't be able to find any fault in. “The food is great in Tuscany, isn't it?” I asked. “And the wine.”
“Oh, they're out of this world,” Marlene enthused. “God, I knew it was going to be, but I was still stunned. Every meal is prepared so carefully. It's a culinary experience even just having a light snack! And California has some delicious wines, but there are so many great ones in Tuscany, too.”
She shook her head, still prattling on. “And the art! I stayed in Florence for about a week, and everywhere you go, there's such incredible beauty. And you see it all reflected back at you in the galleries. Unbelievable. I bought so many souvenirs to bring back home. But you must know what I'm talking about.”
“Sure,” I said.
“It's really made me want to travel to other places, but of course, I need to find acting jobs first. That's one of the things I love about acting, though. You can do it from anywhere. I au
ditioned for a piece the other day that I'm sure I'm going to get, and we'd be based in Paris for the spring. Can you imagine, springtime in Paris? It would be just like all the movies, only of course, it would be the movies because that's what we'd be doing there! I'd have plenty of time to explore, though. I asked because I wouldn't want to be over there and find out that we were working all hours of the day!”
I forced myself to continue focusing on her, trying not to let thoughts of Kylie slip back into my head. I didn't know why it was suddenly so difficult to keep her out of my thoughts. Maybe because she was single again? Or maybe, said a snide voice in the back of my head, because you're finding less and less satisfaction in your investments and your material accomplishments?
That was more than likely the case, but I couldn't give in to thinking that right now, not when Marlene was wrapping up her monologue and looking expectantly at me.
“I've never been to Paris,” I lied. “You'll have to tell me how it is once you've been there.”
“I've been to Paris,” Marlene said, rolling her eyes at me. “Weren't you paying attention to a word that I said? I love that city. I'd live there if I could, but you know, the movies. Hollywood is the only place to be if you want to be in show business.”
I frowned at her. “Foreign films are getting more and more popular, aren't they?” I asked.
“But I'd have to speak French if I wanted to act in a French film,” Marlene said exasperatedly.
“Right. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking.” Or rather, I was thinking of something entirely unrelated. I took a large gulp of my drink, trying to focus on the blonde's assets. She was curvaceous, and I could see where she would do well on the big screen. Of course, she was totally dull as well, but no one could have the full package. For a one-night stand, she'd do.
But there was still something holding me back.
“Can I get you another drink?” I asked.
Marlene looked surprised, probably expecting I would suggest that we take this someplace more private, at least to one of the tables along the windows. But she nodded.
I ordered us each another, even though I still had about half of my first drink remaining.