by Vivian Wood
“Yeah, I’m a decent sandwich maker. But I’m better at other things.” She blushed. “I can do a wicked Thai green curry, and an even better Vietnamese pho.”
He smirked as he noticed her blushing face. “I like when your mind goes to dirty places, though I'd prefer if you took me there with you. And whatever you were thinking when I said that I'm better at other things, I can absolutely guarantee I'm great at that, too.”
Denial was not just a river in Egypt. Her mind was yanked from the gutter it had undoubtedly been in at his mocking comment and her face burned, but there was no way she was admitting to that. So she denied it.
“The only dirty place my mind went was to the cities in Thailand and Vietnam. I've heard Bangkok is pretty filthy.” Before the words were out of her mouth, she realized which city she'd decided to refer to, and she just burst out laughing. There was no coming back from that one.
Rhys cracked up too, doubling over with laughter. When their laughter finally subsided, he focused on her. “That one slipped out, right? Glad it did though, you should just say the first thing that comes to mind more often!”
“Yeah, it did. I've always wanted to visit Southeast Asia, so there are so many other cities I know. Freudian slip, I guess.” She wiped the tears that had formed in her eyes from the laughter, and he chuckled again.
“Yeah, that it was. Fucking awesome though…” He trailed off. “Want something to drink, or are you ready for bed?”
“I could do with a cup of tea, but I’ll get it myself if you wanna go to bed.” She drifted to the kettle, filled it and grabbed a mug from the cupboard she had discovered while he had been gone. It held everything she needed to make her nightly cup of tea.
He looked surprised for a second, probably at the way she was taking over his kitchen, then said, “Yeah, I could go for a cup of coffee.” Not bourbon?
She went over to the fancy coffee machine and examined the flavored pods in the stand. She'd had coffee every morning he hadn't been here, so she knew which flavors she liked, but she'd never seen him with coffee, so she had no idea what he would prefer.
He must have seen her dilemma. “Dark roast, please.”
He settled into one of the stools around the kitchen island as she popped the pod into the coffee machine and walked back to the kettle to fix her tea.
“So, always wanted to go to Southeast Asia? But you've never been?” He watched her closely as she flitted around the kitchen, getting everything ready.
“No, never been anywhere that isn’t mainland USA, actually. But I’ve always fantasized about an island holiday. Thailand, Vietnam, Indonesia… They all look beautiful.”
“That they are,” he said. “We’ve hit a couple of the cities over there on tour. Haven’t had enough downtimer to explore so much, but it’s definitely something I want to do.”
“What’s it like, touring? From the videos I’d seen on YouTube, it seems there’s always a camera, a new city…”
“Videos on YouTube?” He cocked an eyebrow at her, and she suddenly felt ashamed. “I just watched a few, you know, to try and see what I was getting into. Then I stopped, I didn’t want to invade your privacy like all the fans do,” she rambled quietly, but then she caught herself and stopped.
He didn't look angry, but not happy either though. Puzzled, maybe. “You stopped because you didn't want to invade my privacy? Even though I had just asked you to be my fake girlfriend? And you'd never heard of us?” His tone seemed skeptical.
She looked down, shame and guilt washing over her. “I swear it, Rhys. I told herself I'd let you and Milo and Jett and Anders and Luc tell me whatever you wanted me to know, whenever you wanted me to know it. So I stopped. Sure, stuff about you guys has popped up while I've been trying to research celebrity culture so that I'm a bit more prepared for what to expect, but I haven't read any of it. I swear.” She could feel tears stinging her eyes now. Damnit. She knew she shouldn't have invaded their privacy like a stupid fangirl, and now she'd gone and ruined everything.
“Hey, hey. It's okay, Serena. I believe you.” He put his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. “Don't cry, please? It's okay.” She hadn't even noticed him standing up or coming toward her, but she relaxed into his strong chest, smelling the remnants of his cologne and something that was purely Rhys' own unique scent.
“I'm sorry.” She took a deep breath and let go of him. It took every ounce of her willpower, but she knew that she had to do it.
“It's okay, really. I would've been surprised if you hadn't. I'm more surprised that you stopped, though.” His voice was quiet now.
“Come on, let’s go to bed. It’s just been a long day. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
He walked out of the kitchen and started flicking off lights.
“Good night, Rhys,” she said softly as she headed up the stairs, still feeling a little ashamed despite his words of comfort.
“Good night, Sese,” she heard from somewhere in the darkness behind her.
Chapter Thirteen
A week passed, just like the first day they had spent together in the public eye. They woke up, though now they had breakfast before leaving the house, with Rhys cooking and Serena doing the dishes after. They got themselves ready, and then they went out to be seen.
Malls, restaurants, tourist attractions, anywhere highly visible and public. He always kept her close, made her feel safe despite the crowds and flashing lights that were always present, ready to capture the moment.
A couple of times a day, Rhys took a picture of her or a selfie of them together and posted it to his social media accounts, complete with cute emoticons. He always made sure Serena would be okay with each picture before posting it though. She thought it was his way of being a modern-day gentleman.
She had also learned that no less than two hundred fake Serena Woods profiles had popped up on several social media platforms. Insane hadn't even begun to describe it.
Though she was exhausted, the press were eating it up. Still not one journalist had made mention of Luc.
Rhys had told her yesterday that Annie had been getting requests from just about every entertainment journalist in the country for interviews with them. He assured her though, that Annie was holding them at bay.
Their pictures were splattered over every gossip site on the internet, at least the ones she had managed to find.
She had set up Google alerts on them a few days ago and while the pictures didn't bother her as much as she'd thought they would, some of the things people were saying about her were disgusting.
Her phone had started ringing off the hook the morning after the first day they had gone out in public together. People she didn't remember ever knowing wanted to be her best friend, and texts had poured in from every girl who had ever been mean to her in high school. She was even getting hundreds of friend requests on Facebook from complete strangers.
By that afternoon, she had given up and turned off her phone. Rhys had ordered her a new one and she had texted the number only to Mary and Katie. She had also sworn off social media after seeing a particularly creepy post on Twitter, aimed at one of the fake Serena Woods accounts, from a girl who'd claimed that Rhys would always belong to her.
Strangely, she still had not heard one single word from either her parents or from Josh. Katie had told her that her mom was in shock and couldn't believe that she would “do this to them.” She supposed her mother wouldn't be able to get over Rhys' reputation and tattoos.
When they weren't out trying to create a scene, they were hanging out at the house. Milo came over every day, and they had settled into a comfortable arrangement resembling friendship.
He was becoming the closest thing she'd ever had to a brother. It sucked that he'd only be her surrogate brother until Rhys called the charade off. Maybe if he liked her enough he'd opt to keep her around after Rhys and her were over. She hoped, anyway.
Milo had bragged just yesterday about having been out in public for almost an hour that m
orning without any paparazzi in sight. He loved being out of the spotlight.
Jett had been by twice, but Anders only once.
Yesterday, she had been throwing a snack together in the kitchen and when she returned to where Milo and Rhys were lounging out by the pool, they had both stopped talking, but not before she had overheard Rhys saying “pretty fucking worried about him, man.”
At night, they had settled pretty much into a routine. As soon as whoever was over left, they cooked dinner and headed down to the screening room for “Mar” as the phrase had been coined.
It was almost domestic bliss. They joked around, talked about a variety of topics, both casual and serious... She'd become dangerously comfortable with him, with being here. It had all started to feel real somewhere along the line. Yep, definitely dangerous.
In the mornings, they had taken to working out together. Rhys had a trainer, of course, who arrived to bust his balls at the crack of dawn.
Marco, the trainer, had decided that she needed to work out as well, and had he up every morning with Rhys to bust her ass on his dime. Although it had only been a week, give or take, she was already feeling less winded and she was starting to take pleasure in the burn in her muscles. Of course, she also took pleasure in ogling Rhys, shirtless and sweaty and perfect…
“So, how do you plan on burning the willing eyes of the world today? Anything special planned for the PDA of the day?” They hadn’t told Marco about what was happening between them. All that he knew was that his normally reclusive boss had suddenly taken a liking to being seen, more particularly, being seen with Serena.
Today, more of the same scene-causing had been planned. “I’m not sure, actually.” She looked over to where Rhys was finishing his last rep. “He likes to decide on the fly, depending on his mood,” she said to Marco with more confidence than she felt. She was pretty sure he decided based on where would garner the most attention, but she couldn’t tell Marco that.
“A man who likes to be in control. I get that,” he said to her before yelling over to Rhys. “You’re done, bro. Good job!” They bumped fists and Rhys made a perfect dive into the pool.
Marco fixed his attention on her again as she walked him out. “Well, it always looks like you two are having fun in the pictures, so I guess just keep having fun. I like the effect you have on him, stick around, will you?”
“Sure thing, Marco.” She didn’t want to let her confusion show, but she wasn't sure she was doing a good job of hiding it at that last comment. “Thanks for today, we’ll see you in the morning.”
“Cheers.”
She thought about what Marco had said all the way up to her room. She peeled off her sweaty workout clothes and stepped into the spacious shower as she shook the comment from her mind. It wasn't like that, she knew it wasn’t. Sure, she had noticed Rhys was drinking less, but they were busy and trying to keep up appearances - it wouldn’t do if he looked all hungover all the time. Not that she’d ever seen him look anything less than gorgeous, but there were some rather bleary-eyed photos of him circulating the web.
Speaking of keeping up appearances, Rhys thought it would be fun if they got caught in a “compromising position” with his hand up her skirt or something, apparently because he ”has a reputation to maintain” he had told her laughingly last night.
She wasn't entirely sure if he was actually joking or not, so she made sure that she was wearing a set of designer boycut panties in the exact same shade as her turquoise dress, just in case. She completed the outfit with matching pumps and slid her sunglasses onto her head.
He gave a low whistle when he saw her descending the staircase. “Looking hot, love. Fucking hot,” he said. His compliment had caused her whole body to light up, as if he had touched her. Love? That was a new one. And there wasn't even anyone around. The butterflies in her stomach threatened to escape again and a shiver ran up her spine. She tried to contain those feelings, it was probably nothing but a slip up on his part anyway… So she pushed them down deep, and took a calming breath.
“So where we going today?” she asked him as he eased the Aston Martin past the swarm of paparazzi still camped outside his gate.
“I was thinking maybe we should hit a few places at the beach. Maybe have lunch in Malibu somewhere.”
“Sure, I haven’t been to the beach in the longest time!” She relaxed into the soft leather seat.
He turned up the radio and she let the soft rock wash over her, looking forward to feeling sand between her toes. She had been listening to nothing but rock since moving in with him, and she'd definitely become a fan. Of one particular band more so than the others, but she needed to start somewhere, right?
At that moment, his phone rang through the speakers of the car, Milo’s name lit up the display and his voice replaced the smooth voice of whoever had been singing the rock song.
“You with Anders, Rhy?”
“No, headed to the beach with Serena. Why?” He said this too quickly, and his features had become slightly panicked.
“Been trying him since last night. He’s not picking up. I’m at his place and his car’s here, but he’s not answering the door. I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Rhysie.” Milo’s voice sounded anxious, and Rhys seemed to realize this, too. His jaw was set, and there was a vein pulsing in his neck.
He slammed his foot down on the accelerator and the car responded instantaneously, surging forward.
“I’ll be there in two minutes.” He made a hard left, not slowing down for the turn but mercifully navigating it without incident.
“I’ll try the back,” Milo assured them as he disconnected the call.
Rhys didn’t say a word as they flew through another turn. Neither did she.
True to his word, just under two minutes later, they pulled up outside an imposing black wrought iron gate that had started opening as soon as the house had come into sight. She noticed a small remote control in Rhys’s hand that had appeared from somewhere.
Milo’s car, a red Mustang she recognized from his visits to the house, sat parked in the drive but he was nowhere in sight.
Rhys threw the car into park, grabbed a set of keys from the console between their seats and raced to Anders’ front door, quickly unlocking it without trying to knock.
He disappeared into the house just as Milo ran around from the back and followed him in. She didn’t think he even saw her in his rush.
Not sure what else to do, she followed them inside and heard both of them yelling for Anders before she heard what sounded like a wounded cry and Rhys’ loud voice. “Fuck!” he yelled. “Anders!”
At hearing Rhys’ voice sounding so wounded, her whole body turned to ice and it felt like someone had her heart in a vice. She turned the corner to find Rhys kneeling on the floor over something, shouting Anders’ name over and over again and, having a clear view now that she was in the room, she saw that the thing that he was kneeling over was Anders’ unmoving body.
Milo came flying into the room from wherever he had been searching for Anders, and tried to help Rhys wake the big man up.
Something clicked in her brain. They had been talking about him the other day, worried about him.
Without thinking, she surveyed the scene in the room. Empty bottles of vodka and bourbon lay scattered around the couch he was in front of, and there were several bottles of pills open on a coffee table that looked like it was covered in a layer of fine white power.
Fuck. Anders had overdosed. There was not one shadow of a doubt of that fact in her racing mind. She wasted no more time, pulling out her phone and punching in 9-1-1, rattling off the address to the operator and begging them to hurry.
Milo was now on the floor, staring numbly at Anders’ unmoving body. Rhys was still shaking Anders’ shoulders and not so lightly slapping his unconscious face. Then he let out a feral yell and started punching things. The lamp on the coffee table, then it was the coffee table itself, the leg snapping straight off.
Without
conscious thought of what she was doing, she walked over to him, knelt next to him, pulled him into her arms and held him tightly to her chest. She rocked him ever so slightly.
By the time she realized what she was doing, he had, to her eternal surprise, put his arms around her and was now leaning into her, drawing fast deep breaths against her chest.
“Shh,” she said in what she hoped was a soothing voice and ran her fingers through his hair over and over again. “The paramedics are on their way. He’s going to be okay. They’re on their way. They’re going to help him.”
She continued like this for a while. Milo was still sitting on the floor, but was now watching them with a strange expression on his face.
“Milo, could you please grab the keys and let the ambulance in the gate when it gets here?” She tried to keep her voice soothing, but urgent enough that it broke through Milo’s thoughts and urged him into motion.
Wordlessly, seemingly stunned into silence, he did what she asked.
Within minutes, he was back in the room, paramedics in tow. Rhys was back in control now and had disentangled himself from her.
He was answering the paramedics’ questions, eyes still wild, but his voice as strong and steady as ever.
“Rhys, give me your phone, baby,” she asked as the EMTs finished strapping Anders onto a stretcher.
Baby? Well, she didn’t know where that came from, but it had worked.
He slipped his phone out of his pocket and handed it over without question. She unlocked his phone with the pattern she had seen him make many times over the past few days and sent off quick texts to Deacon and Annie to alert them of the situation.
Rhys grabbed her hand as they followed the paramedics out to the ambulance and held her gaze for a second before hopping in the back of the ambulance with Anders and the techs.
“Milo will bring you to the hospital to meet us, okay?” His voice was confident, unwavering. He didn’t even look toward Milo for confirmation before the ambulance doors swung shut and they raced toward the hospital.