Wrapping my hair in a smaller towel, I tottered to my bedroom and pulled out my Minnie Mouse pajamas. Once dressed and my hair towel dried, I felt a little closer to alive and functional, and by little, I meant less than one quarter of an inch closer. Grabbing another pillow from my bed, I turned and headed for the couch of grief and anguish, when a loud knock on my door stopped me in my tracks. My mom and dad had been over this morning and said they’d call tonight, so I knew it wasn’t them.
Yes, I’d made up with my mom. As soon as I’d stepped into my apartment after arriving home from the UK, I called her and burst into tears. She was on my doorstep half an hour later, and she’d been hovering close by ever since. Her guilt for abandoning me when I needed her was almost palpable, but she was here now, and honestly, I needed her more now than I did then.
On tippy toes, I peeked through the peep hole in the door only to find Leah and another Kink Harder star and friend, Trix, staring back at me. I unlatched the lock and pulled it open. This was the first time I had seen Leah since I’d returned. She was absolutely stunning, and I could understand why Bradley was attracted to her. Her long brunette hair fell from a perfect part down the middle; her eyes were a startling shade of blue-green; her lips were full; her figure was divine—tall and svelte. It wasn’t just her looks that people were attracted to, though. She was smart . . . like really super smart. And she was honest, fair, and sweet. We instantly became friends when I joined Kink Harder. Right now, her beautiful blue eyes were full of sorrow.
“Honey,” she whispered with sympathy, and then I burst into tears, again.
I kinda wanted my mom, but as soon as Leah wrapped me into her arms, and Trix wrapped herself around my back, I felt warm and loved.
“Come on, we brought soup.” She pulled me further into my apartment, and Trix shut the door behind us.
“It’s chicken soup. I made it,” Trix said proudly.
Trix was only an inch taller than me, her bust easily a cup larger, her hair longer, her lips fuller. She was what one might expect a female adult porn star to look like. She was also as cute and lovable as they come. Trix wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box, but that only added to her charm. It also made her friends and work colleagues somewhat protective of her. Trix was also an amazing cook; this would be the first time I would get to sample her much praised culinary skills.
“You girls shouldn’t be here. You might catch my flu.” My voice sounded nasally and distorted.
Leah waved away my concerns, though, and reheated the chicken soup in my microwave, while Trix tucked my heavy patchwork quilt around my shoulders.
“Don’t be silly. You need us right now, and the saying ‘to catch a cold’ is an old wives’ tale. You can’t catch a cold.” Trix scoffed as she cuddled up on the couch, my feet in her lap.
Leah and I both gave her bemused looks.
“Of course you can catch a cold. Germs from coughing and sneezing can easily be spread,” Leah explained carefully.
“Really?” Trix asked with a raised brow. “Holy cow, I thought someone was just being silly. I mean, catch a cold? That’s ridiculous! Sure, you can catch a ball, but how do you catch a cold?”
Leah and I cast each other a small smile before she brought the warm soup to me. Propping a few pillows under my head so I could eat, she sat on the small arm chair beside me and Trix, and watched me carefully as I gave the liquid a stir.
“I didn’t know you were back until a few days ago.” The look Leah gave me was one of reproach. “Decker stopped by Ryder’s office and told us what happened.”
“Wonderful,” I murmured as I took a sip from the soup. Now everyone knew of my pitiful failed love story, even Bradley’s ex. “Oh, my god, this is amazing,” I exclaimed after the warm, slightly spicy liquid, which tasted like the god’s nectar, hit my tongue.
Trix beamed with pride.
“I’d say she’s in the wrong profession,” Leah said with a small smile. “But she does look great on film.”
I knew Leah and Trix had done a few scenes together. Even though Leah assured me she was not bisexual, when it came to performing for Kink Harder, that’s what she did—perform. She would do whatever she needed to get a scene done. She could also fake an orgasm with the best of them.
“So, tell me what happened with Emerson.”
Emerson? She called him Emerson? Only his friends and family called him Bradley, and he had dated Leah for almost six months. Surely that made her a friend? I couldn’t help but be a little thrilled that she hadn’t called him Bradley, but I had.
“Didn’t Decker fill you in?” I said with a sigh.
“Bits and pieces,” Leah admitted. “I can honestly say there is no way I can bring myself to believe Emerson would try and lure you, or any girl for that matter, over to Brutal Babes. I can’t even for the life of me fathom why he would; he has no affiliation with pornography, other than Decker.”
Leah had no idea who Bradley worked for; he hadn’t entrusted her with his secrets like he had trusted me. That fact, coupled with the thought that he let me call him Bradley, cheered me up, slightly. The memory that he had broken my heart had me sinking back down into the pits of misery just as fast.
“While Emerson, for the most part, was a mystery to me, which was the reason we broke up, he was one of the most kind and protective men I had dated in a long time. I can’t imagine him hurting you in any way.”
“He’s moody,” I reluctantly admitted, trying to point out his faults. “He was brooding for the first three weeks I was in the UK.”
Leah’s brow furrowed. “I never noticed that side to him,” she admitted. “If anything, he seemed to try a little too hard to be happy. I knew he wasn’t one hundred percent invested in our relationship. I think he just wanted what Decker and Andi had. But he was . . . sweet.” She said it with a wistful smile that flared up the green eyed monster in me.
“After he got over his brooding, he was pretty sweet with me, too,” I whispered. “He was funny and incredibly romantic.”
Leah’s eyebrows shot up. “Romantic? I never saw romance! He was a clown, almost as bad as Decker. Are you sure we’re talking about the same Emerson?”
I placed my now empty bowl on the coffee table and snuggled back into the couch. Trix was busy flicking through channels, ignoring the heart to heart between exes.
“If you saw things in him I didn’t, and I saw things in him you didn’t, don’t you think it’s possible there is an uglier side to him neither of us saw?”
Leah seemed to consider that a moment. “Or,” she said almost cautiously, “he was really in love with you and only trying to be in love with me.”
“Pfft,” I snorted. “He never used the word love. He claims he only got to V.”
Her questioning frown was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“I got it,” sung Trix, jumping up from the couch.
“Trixster,” came a familiar voice followed by Trix’s excited squeal. Casey wrapped her up in a huge hug while Lionel stepped into the apartment and kissed her cheek. “And my Princess Leah,” he sang, racing to give Leah an exaggerated air kiss to each cheek.
Lionel set a bag down on the kitchen counter and quickly came to kneel in front of me, resting his hand over my brow.
“You’re hot,” he said with a frown. “Did you go to the doctor?”
“Yes, Dad, my parents drove me this morning. I have the flu. I need rest and fluids.”
I glanced at Casey who was chatting with Leah and Trix without even pausing for a breath. Something about Decker and Andi taking off for the weekend because Decker’s middle brother was having some sort of love-life crisis. Lionel took the empty bowl of soup to the kitchen and returned with a full glass of water. He placed it on the coffee table and fussed with my blanket and pillow. Meanwhile, Casey was tying a frilly apron around his waist. I looked from Lionel to Casey and back again. He shrugged and began cleaning up the tissues that had missed the plastic bag on the floor beside me.
“Why are you wearing that?” I asked Casey, interrupting his conversation with the girls.
“I’m cleaning, silly.” He turned to carry on his chat like I hadn’t even breathed a word.
“You’re cleaning my apartment?”
He rolled his eyes and nodded with a proud smile, obviously happy with his decision to do a little cleaning for me. I can’t say I wasn’t happy about it either; the place looked like a bomb had hit it.
“And you’re wearing a woman’s apron to do it?”
“It’s not a woman’s apron. Where on here does it say women only?” he scoffed.
“Why are you wearing an apron period? It’s not the eighteen hundreds anymore.”
“So my clothes don’t get dirty.” He said it with a ‘duh’ expression.
“Normal people just wash their dirty clothes once they’ve finished cleaning,” Lionel murmured.
“Normal is overrated,” Casey said with a wave of the feather duster he had dragged from the bag they’d brought.
“Honey, we’ve got to get going. Trix has a shoot tonight.” Leah leaned over the back of the couch and kissed the top of my head. “Call me if you need anything, even a bitch session about a certain charming American with a ridiculous British accent.”
“I’ve left the rest of the soup in the fridge. I’ll bring more tomorrow.” Trix blew me a kiss.
“You don’t have to do that,” I argued.
“It’s not problem. I have no one to cook for at home, and I like cooking . . .” She gave me a naughty wink. “Almost as much as I like f—” At that point, Leah gave her head a gentle tap with the palm of her hand. “What?” Trix pouted.
“Let’s go.” She sighed.
Lionel and Casey gave the girls kisses and hugs and let them out. The apartment then fell into a comfortable silence.
“Have you seen the gossip rags lately?” Casey asked innocently as he dusted my bookshelf.
He looked quite the sight in his apron with his duster. I would have taken a picture if I could have found the energy to reach for my cell phone, which sat on the arm of the red chair Leah had not long ago abandoned.
“Not since Dozie tried to impregnate a married woman via her mouth.”
Lionel snorted as Casey darted to their bag and dragged out a trashy magazine I recognized immediately. Tinsel Town, more like rumors and lies town. It had been the relentless, blood thirsty, soul sucking magazine who first broke the news of my family destroying ways. I cringed at the sight of it as Casey approached me.
“It’s not bad,” Casey confirmed. “In fact, it’s very, very good.”
He placed the magazine on the coffee table, and I eyed the image on the front cover. My stomach rolled at the sight of Kasper. Then I noticed the story tag line—“From Reality Royalty to Shame”. My body rose of its own accord as I reached for the book, flicking to the double page spread. Kasper had admitted to cheating on his wife, with not only me, but a slew of other women. He also admitted that those women, myself included, had no idea he was married. It was a big, dirty confession, and I loved it.
“Decker told me that Bradley made this happen,” Casey whispered.
My gaze shot to his. “He did?”
“He did. Bradley made a call to his boss and threatened to leave if the story wasn’t published. It’s all over the Net, even made the headline news last night. There are other women coming forward to confess their own trysts with Mr. Can’t Keep My Pants Zipped.” Jumping to his feet, Casey continued fluttering about the place like a feathered fairy.
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he’s a douche canoe, and a walking poster boy for STDs.”
“Not Kasper,” I whispered. “Why would Bradley do this?”
Lionel’s gaze softened as his eyes met mine. “I guess because he reached E.”
“He hurt me,” I reasoned.
“We don’t know the full story, but if Decker is willing to stand behind his best friend, I would assume it means we’re missing something. You know how Decker gets. He wouldn’t have ditched Bradley as his best friend, but he sure as hell would have been on the first plane over there to talk to Bradley with his fists if he had wronged you.”
I threw the magazine on the coffee table and allowed my gaze to wander around my apartment. My head was spinning, a combination of the flu and shock. The little waves of hope that had caressed my heart when Andi told me there might have been a misunderstanding between Bradley and me had turned into bigger waves, nudging at the pain, washing it away and replacing it with possibilities. If there was a misunderstanding, why hadn’t Bradley tried to fix it? I’d been a complete mess for three weeks. Why would he leave me suffering like this? I glanced to my cell phone. I’d ignored his calls, then been so bold as to change my number. That’s why he hadn’t been in touch. But he could have gotten a message to Decker to pass on to me! All the hurt and pain that had filled my body morphed into anger. Was all my suffering for nothing?
“You look kind of ill. Do you need to throw up?” Lionel asked in a concerned voice.
“No,” I managed to say through a croaky voice. Then my stomach flipped and nausea sent a surge of saliva into my mouth, and I tried desperately to swallow it back down. “Yes,” I said, a little panicked.
“Ohhhh, she’s gonna toss her cookies!” Lionel exclaimed as he leaned down and scooped me into his arms. “Gosh, this isn’t as easy as it looks in the movies. You weigh about as much as a baby elephant, girl.”
He stumbled down the short hall and into the bathroom where Casey waited with the toilet seat raised. I barely made it; my knees hit the tiles, and Trix’s awesome chicken soup hit the porcelain. Casey held my hair back while I lost any ounce of pride I might have had left. When I finally stopped retching, Lionel handed me a warm towel, and I wiped my face and mouth. When I tried to stand, Casey swept me into his arms and headed for my bedroom.
“More like a teenage elephant,” he grunted, as he elbowed his way through my half closed door.
Lionel carefully moved the excessive amount of throw pillows and pulled back my quilt, tucking me tightly beneath it.
“You guys shouldn’t be here. I’ll get you sick,” I murmured, my eyes already trying to close.
Someone patted my head affectionately.
“Then you can take care of us,” murmured Lionel.
Darkness swallowed me.
CHAPTER 27
Bradley
As I pushed the door to the business open, the tinkle of a bell was drowned out by Mark Ronson’s “Uptown Funk”. I paused as I took in the sight before me. Slowly lowering my suitcase to the ground, I let the door fall closed and watched Lionel and Casey as they danced their way around LC’s Day Spa. Lionel had a tiny terrier wrapped carefully in his arms, while Casey had what I thought might be a bottle of shampoo at his lips as he sang loudly to the upbeat song.
When Lionel’s gaze caught mine, he stopped dead in his tracks, while Casey continued to dance and sing, mimicking many of the moves from the music video. He was actually pretty good. When he noticed Lionel had stopped though, he followed his boyfriend’s gaze, and his uptown funky mood plummeted to arctic in a heartbeat. Lionel used a remote to turn down the music.
“You,” Casey hissed.
My eyes narrowed, and I’m sure the worry line that had begun to cultivate between my brows three weeks ago deepened.
“Didn’t Decker talk to you?”
“He told us there had been a misunderstanding, and that’s the only reason I haven’t tossed you through our front window; that and the cost to fix it probably isn’t worth the flickering moment of happiness I would get from your pain.”
Lionel carefully placed the terrier at his feet, then both the men stood, their arms crossed over their chests, their angry gazes focused on me. The terrier promptly sat and watched with open curiosity.
“You have exactly three minutes to explain yourself,” Lionel demanded.
I ran a hand through my hair an
d took a deep breath. The last few days had passed in a blur. I was tired, moody, and missing Wiska like a man might miss his dick. That wasn’t exactly a romantic analogy, but any man would tell you, that’s a fucking lot!
“She didn’t hear all the conversation. The lads were mouthing off. They assumed I was with Wiska in an attempt to woo her over to Brutal Babes. I mentioned that someone quite obviously had a loose tongue, not exactly in those words, but I was curious who the fuck had been talking shit. Then I proceeded to let both of the guys know I would make them both disappear if they ever spoke about Wiska like that again. I reminded them who I worked for, and explained, in no uncertain terms, that Wiska was mine, and if they dared to even breathe in her direction, they’d die a slow, painful death.”
Casey and Lionel cast each other doubtful looks, then finally, Casey smiled.
“You said lads,” he chuckled.
“You sound even more British now that you’re back in America,” Lionel observed with a smile.
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
“Hell no,” Casey growled, causing the terrier at his feet to take a few cautious steps towards Lionel. “You put our girl through hell. She’s a mess. She leaks twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week . . . she’s sick, dammit!”
“She’s sick? And she leaks?” I asked, suddenly panicked.
“Why did it take you so long to get your ass here?” Lionel said. There was no anger in his tone, only acceptance and worry.
“Well, I spent the first week trying desperately to call you all so I could find out what the fuck happened! Then, when I realized no one was going to speak to me, including Decker and Andi, I decided to see how many bottles of whiskey I could consume in the shortest amount of time possible. By the time I mostly sobered up, Decker finally called and we realized this was all a misunderstanding. I was only days away from leaving. I decided to wait until I got back on US soil to fix things. I would have gone straight to Wiska’s, but I don’t know where she lives. Now, what the hell is wrong with her? She’s sick?”
Bradley's Whistle (P.ornstars of Romance #2) Page 25