Hold Me Until Morning

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Hold Me Until Morning Page 10

by Christina Phillips


  “Hey.” He ran his finger along the back of her hand. “Sure I’ll help out, but I’m not a pro in this game. It’ll take me much longer to get it the way you want it than if you hired the right people.”

  She blinked at him. He’d seen straight through her Lola face. It was kind of shocking. Or had she lost her touch?

  She was pretty sure she hadn’t. Which meant her act hadn’t fooled him.

  Her insides went all gooey. She tried not to let it show on her face. “I’d much rather have you.” And wasn’t that the truth.

  “You plan on being here when I am?” His dimple flashed. She couldn’t tell whether he was serious or not.

  And that’s when it hit her—the urge to confide in him. Whether he was interested in seeing her again after this week finished wasn’t even the issue. She could trust him not to tell anyone.

  But she still hesitated. It had been such a secret wish for so long it was hard to share, no matter how much she wanted to.

  Cooper was no longer smiling.

  “Well, look. I know you won’t, but please don’t repeat this to anyone.” Her face was going red. She hoped he didn’t take her remark the wrong way. Trouble was, it was hard to confide in anyone when her trust had been broken so many times in the past.

  Cooper was nothing like the so-called friends she had as a teen—and he sure as hell was nothing like Hudson.

  “You can trust me, babe.” There wasn’t a hint of irritation in his voice. If anything he sounded concerned.

  Some of the tension drained from her. She should’ve known better than to think he’d take offense to anything she might say.

  “I do plan on staying here more often during vacations. I’m, uh, thinking of going to college to get my degree.”

  He stared at her. For a crazy moment she thought he hadn’t even heard her. Was her wish really so ridiculous that everyone would think she’d lost her mind to want to put her Hollywood career on hold?

  “Huh,” he said finally, which was hardly inspiring. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

  She had the horrible urge to hide under the table. She wished to God she hadn’t said anything. “Yeah, well, whatever.”

  He grabbed her hand again. “I think that’s a great idea, babe. But why’s it such a secret?”

  She eyed him, not sure whether he was serious or not. “Because…” Her voice trailed away. There was the nondisclosure tied to Sunset Heights, of course, but that wasn’t the reason she’d hugged this secret so tight. It was because, deep inside, she was terrified her mom was right, and putting her career on hold was a huge mistake. “Do you really think it’s a great idea?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? Wish I’d gone to college. Which one are you looking at?”

  He seemed really interested, and he wasn’t just putting on an act, because Cooper didn’t give a crap about sucking up to her for his own ends.

  Warmth seeped through her, drowning the demons of doubt. She reached for her tablet. “Here, I’ll show you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Cooper stretched out his legs and hugged Paris closer as they sat on the loveseat watching some crappy late night movie on the TV. She was curled up next to him, her head on his chest. The lights were dimmed, they had microwave popcorn, and soon he’d be taking her to bed again.

  She played her fingers over his bare stomach. She’d already half pulled his shirt off him. “So, what do you normally do on a Saturday night?”

  “If I’m not working I’m out with the guys.”

  “Picking up girls?”

  Sometimes they picked up girls. Other nights they just got drunk and ended up playing online games. Occasionally, he got together with his brothers, but since they saw each other most days at work, that wasn’t at the top of his list.

  “I don’t party every weekend. What about you?” He seriously couldn’t believe the stuff he’d read about her wild parties and hotel wrecking tendencies. Where did the press dig that shit up?

  She made little circles on his stomach. “Sometimes I manage to have a night at home. Mostly I’m rocking it at some night club or whatever.”

  He frowned at the flickering TV screen. “You should’ve said if you wanted to go out. We could’ve found a bar or something.” It hadn’t even crossed his mind. Truth was, he enjoyed just hanging out with her in the cabin, drinking a beer or two and cuddling up after they’d had dinner.

  It was different—something he’d never done before with anyone else. And even though this was the fifth night in a row he’d not hit the town, he didn’t feel caged or stir crazy.

  The complete opposite, in fact.

  She wriggled against him. “I didn’t say I wanted to go out. I came here so I wouldn’t have to keep going out.”

  “You could just say no.” He looked down at her. It was crazy that she was burned out on partying at her age. Then again, she’d been doing it for years. So had he, but the difference between them was she hadn’t grown up on shitty backstreet parties like him. He guessed it was possible to get sick of champagne and caviar if you had it every week. Not that he knew anything about caviar. Eating fish eggs wasn’t something he’d ever put on his bucket list.

  “Sounds easy, doesn’t it?” She glanced up at him. “My mom’s never liked missing out on parties, though. She’s always worried we might miss some fabulous opportunity.”

  “Why can’t she go on her own then?”

  She gave him a pitying look. “Because I’m the one who gets her through the door.”

  That was fucked up. He decided to keep that to himself. “You won’t be her meal ticket once you start college. She’ll have to get used to it then.”

  For a second she frowned. Maybe he shouldn’t have voiced the meal ticket comment but what the hell. She must know what her own mom was like. Scott certainly did.

  “I haven’t exactly told her about my college plans yet.”

  She had told him before her mom? He had no idea what to make of that. “Don’t you think you should let her know before you start?”

  She shrugged and snuggled closer. “She knows I have a place. She just doesn’t know I’m going this year. I’m trying to figure out the best way to break the news to her.”

  “It’s not like it’s bad news. You just need to tell her.”

  She let out a long sigh. “It’s just hard. She gave up everything to give me my career.”

  “She gave up a shitty apartment in a crappy neighborhood for a Beverly Hills mansion. Yeah, I see what you mean.”

  He knew he’d gone too far when she went rigid and then pulled away from him. Would he never learn to think before he opened his big mouth?

  “That’s hardly fair.” Her voice was all ice princess.

  “Might not be fair, but it sure as shit is true.”

  She glared at him. He frowned back. Her mom might take good care of her but he didn’t see what great sacrifice she’d made. He still remembered his gran’s comment the day the O’Connells had moved from the neighborhood.

  Looks like Cora O’Connell’s going to get her wish, then. That girl always did want to live in a fairytale.

  Finally she let out an annoyed huff. “You can be pretty rude, you know.”

  “Babe, I wasn’t being rude. I don’t know the meaning of the word rude.” He managed to keep a straight face. He knew if he grinned at her choice of words she’d smack him around the head.

  She groaned and flopped back onto him, winding her arm across his chest. He had no idea what had just happened, but he wasn’t about to ask her. He just tugged her close and tangled her hair around his fingers.

  “You’re the only one apart from Scott who’s ever said anything against my mom.”

  “Really?” He found that hard to believe.

  “People don’t really tell me anything. Work stuff goes through my agent and my mom, and people are nice to me because they think I can help their careers or whatever.”

  “Bastards.” He tightened his hold around her. “You don’t
need those kind of assholes in your life, babe.”

  “Hmm.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Anyway, sorry I jumped down your throat. It was just a shock to hear you say that. The thing is,” she hesitated and he could feel her muscles tensing up again. “I’ve kind of been having those thoughts about her, too, lately.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up over it. You plan on giving up Hollywood for good?” He picked up his half finished beer from the floor and took a reviving swallow.

  “No, I don’t think so.” She swirled the tip of her finger over the bottle as he rested it on his knee. “But in the future I’d like to pick my own projects. I don’t want to play an endless succession of Lolas.”

  “Sounds fair to me.” He watched her doodling on the bottle for a few more moments before it occurred to him she might be giving him a hint. “You want some?” He passed the beer to her.

  She snatched her finger away. “No. I don’t drink, remember.”

  He remembered her saying she didn’t drink champagne, but he hadn’t thought any more of it, and she hadn’t mentioned it again.

  “Okay.” He took another swallow.

  She cleared her throat. “The thing is, I can’t drink. I, um, had a bad time with alcohol a while back.”

  What did she mean by that?

  “Did you?” That was lame. “Okay.” He realized he was still holding the damn bottle under her nose and practically dropped it onto the floor. “I wouldn’t have bought the beer if I’d known.”

  “That’s okay. I’ve never craved beer. Vodka’s my demon.”

  It was no good. He had to know. “What d’you mean by a bad time?” Had some sleazy asshole spiked her drink and tried something? His mind leaped to Hudson. Was he the one behind it? Was that the reason why he and Paris had split up?

  She gave him a searching look. He hugged her and she relaxed a fraction. “I started drinking when Lola took off in the show. Suddenly, everyone wanted me to show up at parties and stuff. Having a vodka before I went out helped me get through the night. But then I needed a couple. And then I’d need another shot halfway through the night.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “Six years. I managed to hide it for nearly nine months, but by then I was hooked on it.”

  For someone who hovered around her daughter’s head like a fly, Cora O’Connell had sure dropped the ball when Paris had been sixteen. He was pissed with her mom—that was fucking crazy.

  “I’ll dump the beer first thing in the morning.”

  “You really don’t have to.” She stroked the side of his face. It wasn’t sexual. It was just…nice. “I just wanted you to know why I don’t touch alcohol anymore. I can’t even face it without wanting to hurl.”

  “That blows.” Is this really the time to make lame jokes?

  She gave a half laugh. “Well, yes. There’re times when it’s real inconvenient.”

  “You not drinking isn’t common knowledge?”

  She circled his nipple. He loved the way she did that. Except it was distracting, and while usually he was only too happy to be distracted, this time he wanted an answer.

  “No one really cares,” she said, sounding as though she didn’t care either. “As long as you look as though you’re drinking, no one’s going to ask questions.”

  “I don’t think I like the people you hang out with there.”

  This time she laughed properly and gave his nipple a pinch. He crushed her hand to his chest so she wouldn’t do it again. He had the feeling she needed to talk about this more than he needed to bend her over the loveseat.

  “I’d love you to meet them.” She gave him a wicked smile. “Would you come to a party if I invited you?”

  “Sure I would.” He couldn’t figure out if she was serious about that or not. “And I’d drink soda in front of the lot of them until it was spraying out of my ears.”

  “Hmm.” She sounded thoughtful. “Maybe I should do that.”

  “If they don’t like it they can go fuck themselves.”

  “Mom said not to draw attention to it. Just kind of go with the flow.”

  Anger stirred low in his gut. “Your mom encourages you to drink?” Just so Paris didn’t screw up her fucking image?

  “Oh, God no.” She sounded horrified. “She was the one who hauled me off to rehab when she discovered what I was up to, and managed to keep it all under the radar. She’d have a fit if she thought I was drinking again, but she doesn’t want anyone getting suspicious and start digging around.”

  “They won’t hear it from me.” Then he couldn’t help himself. “But so what if anyone does find out? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You should be proud you kicked addiction to the curb.”

  She blinked. “Wow. I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

  He twisted around and pushed her flat onto her back. She tugged at his shirt…and then his damn cell went off.

  No way was he answering it. He pulled it from his pocket, intending to toss it onto the floor, when he saw the ID.

  He sat back up. “It’s my gran,” he told Paris. “I have to take this.”

  “Of course.” She curled up at the other end of the loveseat, a concerned frown on her face.

  “Hey. Everything all right?” He had a sinking feeling something was horribly wrong. Why else would his gran call him at this time of night?

  “Of course everything’s all right.” His gran’s crisp voice rang in his ear. She was great with modern technology, but she couldn’t grasp the fact she didn’t need to shout whenever she used her cell. “I’m having afternoon tea tomorrow and you’re coming.”

  He raked his hand through his hair and tried to make sense of her words. “Afternoon tea?”

  “Four o’clock. Don’t be late. Your brothers are coming, too.”

  “Look, I can’t make it. I’m tied up.” He glanced across to Paris, and she gave him a goofy grin and pretended to tie a knot in midair. “I’ll come and see you next week.”

  “No. You don’t understand, Cooper Grayson. I’m not asking.”

  If there was one person in the world he didn’t mind admitting that he loved, it was his gran. But sometimes she forgot the boys she raised after their father died were now grown men. He pulled a face at Paris and hoped she didn’t take what he was about to say next the wrong way.

  “Sorry, gran. I’m working this weekend.”

  “If by ‘working’ you mean you’re with a girl, then bring her along, too.”

  What the hell? He stared at Paris who frowned and mouthed what’s up?

  He’d never taken a girl to his gran’s. None of them had. They were all so screwed up none of them had ever had a proper girlfriend before. Although now that he thought about it, last week his middle brother Jackson had been messed up over Scarlett Ashford. Had he sorted that out yet?

  “Are you still there, Cooper Grayson?” That was the second time she’d called him by his full name. She only ever did that when she was in battle mode. It was obvious she wasn’t going to accept defeat in this one.

  “Yeah, but…” He glanced at Paris again. “What makes you think I’m with a girl anyway?” He knew his gran wasn’t referring to a casual pick up. She fucking knew.

  “I don’t have time to play your games. Be here at four tomorrow. Jackson has news.” And then she hung up.

  Well, fuck.

  “Trouble?” Paris crawled along the loveseat and straddled him. He dropped his cell next to them and wound his arms around her.

  “Say no if you want. It’s fine. But we’ve been invited to afternoon tea tomorrow.” He didn’t think she’d want to go. Why would she want to return to the tough L.A. neighborhood she left behind ten years ago? But he still felt he should ask her before he called his gran in the morning to let her know he couldn’t make it.

  She tilted her head and appeared to be thinking about it. He hadn’t expected she’d need to think about her answer. No way was she going to say yes. Maybe she was just being polite.

&nb
sp; Fuck being polite. Tomorrow was the last day they had together. No way was he going to share her with anyone. Not even his gran. He started to undo the buttons on her shirt.

  And then she spoke. “I’d love to go visit your gran tomorrow.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Paris stealthily checked the time on her cell. It was almost four in the morning. She glanced across at Cooper, who was flat on his back in her bed, one muscled arm thrown across his eyes.

  From the light of her cell she drank in his gorgeous perfection. The sheet barely covered his goods, and his chiseled abs were a thing of beauty. She dug her nails into the palm of her hand to stop herself from stroking him. The last thing she wanted was for him to wake before she’d freshened up.

  Just like she had every morning that week, she slid out of the bed and crept into the bathroom. It didn’t matter whether they spent the night in Cooper’s room, or her own, this ritual never changed.

  She picked up her toothbrush. Today was officially the last full day she could claim his time. She’d told her mom she’d be back home tomorrow and Cooper would be going back to do whatever it was he was scheduled to do.

  But last night he’d invited her to go visit his gran.

  Her stomach churned. Alice Flanagan might’ve scared her when she’d been a little girl, but that wasn’t the reason she’d not been able to sleep when they’d finally fallen into bed.

  It was because Cooper had asked her to go with him.

  He could’ve made any number of excuses to his gran. If it came to that, he could’ve just told Paris they needed to cut the week short. As far as she was concerned, there was only one reason why he’d asked her, and that was because he wanted her to go with him.

  She rinsed out her mouth and couldn’t stop the ridiculous grin from spreading across her face. It was crazy to be so excited, but she couldn’t help herself. It was like a big step forward. This week had been unreal, the way they’d hidden away from the world. But if he was fine about them going back to her old neighborhood where anyone and everyone could see them, then surely that meant he wanted more than just one week together?

  She sure as hell did. It was kind of scary just how much she wanted him in her life. Scott could rant as much as he wanted. It wouldn’t change anything.

 

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