A tear spilled down her cheek and he groaned. Goddammit. He pressed his lips to hers, demanding that she accept him, that she submit to his affection.
Her lips were still beneath his, her mouth closed. She didn't move, except to sniffle lightly.
Alex pulled away, helpless as her tears fell. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Take me back to the rooming house. Please."
* * *
He was outside Darlene's house, staring up at the moody sky and the mountains in the distance where fog curled, white tendrils through barren trees. It fit his despair perfectly.
Alex shoved his hands into his pockets. His fingers brushed his phone and he pulled it out and turned it on. He's been ignoring most of his calls for the last few days and had made sure to turn his phone off before last night's celebration. He'd neglected to turn it on again, something uncommon for him.
It turned out he had a slew of unchecked messages. As he scrolled through his missed calls, the phone rang again.
"Drake."
"Thank God! It's Ernie. Your publicist."
"Ernie. What's up?"
"You haven't been answering your phone, and it's been a madhouse over here. Why didn't you let my office know before the interview? We've been getting calls since yesterday about it."
"What interview?"
There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. Ernie recovered quickly. "Miss Morgan's interview."
"I don't know anything about that."
"You're kidding me, right?" Ernie's voice was strained. "You really don't know?"
Alex sighed. What the fuck was going on?
"I really don't know."
"Fuck," Ernie whispered, then coughed to cover up his lapse. "Well, Miss Morgan went on national TV last night. She gave an interview in which she said that, despite rumors to the contrary, the two of you were still planning to get married. She said the wedding was postponed while you went into rehab for sex addiction. You should have told us about the rehab. We could have spun this whole thing better if we'd known about it beforehand."
"I'm not in rehab." Was this some kind of sick joke? "I'm at home in Tennessee. And Alana and I are definitely not getting married. Ever."
Ernie sounded like he'd swallowed his tongue. "This is a nightmare."
Tell me about it. "What are we gonna do?"
"Well, she's put you in a tight spot. The world thinks you're away at rehab. It could be good for your image. Show a little contrition after the affair. Let the world think you're getting back together. You can always break it off later, after public opinion's back on your side."
"No."
Ernie groaned. "Look, right now you've got Alana looking like a saint for sticking by your side during your time of trouble."
"She's the fucking reason I'm even in trouble. There's no way I'm going along with any plan that has us back together, even if it's just on paper."
His publicist almost choked. He could imagine Ernie, balding and hyperactive, his face red, his breath puffing out of his chest like he was running a marathon. "Well have you got a better idea, one that doesn't have you coming out of this looking like an asshole?"
Alex frowned, staring off into the distance, taking in the view of the majestic Tennessee hills. "You know what," he said after a minute, "I think I do. Start making some calls. This is what I want..."
* * *
Lila set her alarm for before dawn. Jake and Tony had confirmed that they'd be leaving early to return to Atlanta, and although the majority of her stuff was already packed, she didn't want to linger. As it was, she'd woken before the alarm and lain in bed, eyes wide open in the dark.
She knew she'd made the right decision yesterday. Alex's father had only reinforced what she already knew to be true. Alexander Drake was way out of her league.
Lila stood, stretched, and padded into the bathroom for a hot shower. She looked longingly at the tub before she stepped into the tight confines of the shower stall. No time for relaxation. She probably wouldn't be able to enjoy it properly, her feelings a tight knot inside her chest that felt as if it would never release. Besides, she was so tired already she might fall back asleep and make them late for their departure.
The hot spray helped to freshen her, and before long she was out, plaiting her hair into a single damp braid and deciding to forego makeup. She'd be just another weary traveler on the plane, no one of consequence, so what did it matter if she wore an old pair of jeans and comfortable sweatshirt. No one would notice her, or care.
Not that she had a hope of dressing up her dreary appearance anyway. Dark shadows hung under tired eyes. Her skin was pale, and for a moment she was relieved. At least the red blotches that had painted her cheeks after yesterday afternoon's crying jag had faded.
Lila took a step back from the sink and the mirror over it and dropped her towel. Although the mirror wasn't large, she was able to take in most of her form by moving backwards. Fleshy arms, breasts that had already started to sag. Started? They'd hung off her since high school, another thing that made her different from her peers.
A stomach that was too large, too round. Big thighs that rubbed together when she walked. There was nothing about herself that she could take pride in. Lila had always thought that at least if she didn't have her looks, she had a talent for cooking. Now doubt shrouded even that part of herself. She might be able to throw together a nice meal, but that didn't mean she had a chance of parlaying that into a successful business.
Especially now, after the Alex Drake scandal. Hope had buoyed her when she'd received the offer to come east and cater the ceremony that had brought her here. But even that had been a lie. The public probably hadn't forgiven her, and maybe they never would. Her second chance hadn't been a chance at all. And it was probably her last.
Lila shuffled back into her room and started to dress. Her bags were nearly packed, and she added the final odds and ends to them. Her toiletries. A stack of culinary magazines that she'd dutifully toted with her for inspiration, and that had failed to bring her out of her foul mood the evening before. In a matter of minutes she was switching off the light and walking out the door of her cozy room.
She set down her things to pull the door closed and paused. A note was pinned to her door. Lila pulled it down, noticing the crisp but lively script that covered it.
Lila,
Didn't want to disturb you. Flight has been pushed back. More information forthcoming.
-Tony
Her brow furrowed. Their flight was delayed? She'd glanced out the window earlier and hadn't seen any sign of bad weather. Or was it something else?
Lila glanced down the hall at Tony's closed door. She considered knocking, but figured he was still asleep. Jake was probably nestled into bed beside him, despite his own room across the hall. A flash of envy went through her before she could stop it.
Lila wondered what circumstances had brought the pair together. They seemed quite happy. It couldn't have been easy, though. Although homosexuality was becoming more accepted, there were still those who disagreed. But together they would overcome it. Because they were in love.
Suddenly she was frowning, holding back tears. She ripped the note off her door and balled it up in her fist. Right now, love seemed as elusive as a successful career. What did she know about love anyway? She'd paid dearly for her high school infatuation, one that was clearly more about lust than love.
And Alex Drake? Lust was definitely responsible for her current predicament. But what about love?
She'd been attracted to him like a magnet, his devilish good looks and playful charm making him almost irresistible to her deprived body. But even when they'd spent time not engaged in carnal congress, she'd found herself almost unwillingly attracted to him. She liked the bastard, too much.
Was that love? The uncontrollable vibration of her molecules whenever he stepped near? The increased heart rate? The heavy breathing? Maybe lust could explain them too.
But it couldn't exp
lain the way she missed him, and not just his touch. His presence. His conversation. The look in his eyes when he smiled at her. He crept into her thoughts at the oddest times. Actually, if she let herself admit it, he never left her thoughts. It was annoying. And stimulating.
And now, painful. More painful than she wanted to admit.
Having him show up again, having him take her into his arms and say that he wanted to be with her, it only made that pain sharper. Longer lasting. Her decision would haunt her for the rest of her life.
But it was the right decision. She was back to that, thinking in circles, standing in the dim hallway, rhythmically squeezing her clenched fist, the sound of the paper crinkling the only disturbance of the early morning stillness. With a shake of her head, she gathered her bags and walked down the hallway, then down the stairs.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The lower floor of the rooming house was empty. Lila left her bags at the bottom of the stairs and let herself into Mrs. Wheaton's kitchen.
She turned on the light, then went to stand at the sink, staring out the window into the backyard and the woods beyond. The sky was a bruised purple, hints of lights showing at the edges. Dawn was coming to Trouble Hollow.
Lila was amazed at the feeling that came over her in that moment. She would miss the little town and its inhabitants. She'd only been among them for a few days, but what she'd experienced in that time was astonishing. Her first foray outside of her home state had been eye-opening. There was a whole world out there, full of interesting people and beautiful places.
And now she was going back home, where she had a lifetime of regret awaiting her.
She had her whole life to dwell on what went wrong, so Lila sought to distract herself now. Picking up one of Mrs. Wheaton's cookbooks, she carried it to the kitchen table and paged through it, making mental notes about some of the recipes.
The section on breakfast breads gave her an idea. For days she'd been enjoying the fruits of Mrs. Wheaton's labors, and some very delicious meals, and it was time to give back. Lila began pulling ingredients out of the fridge, then raiding the cupboards. Today Mrs. Wheaton wouldn't have to cook breakfast for her hungry guests. Today she could just sit back and relax.
It wasn't too much later when the kitchen door swung open. "Somethin' smells good."
Lila turned around to give Mrs. Wheaton a nervous smile. She hoped the older woman wouldn't think consider her an invader to her territory, and it seemed that wish had come true, at least.
"Whatcha cookin'?"
Lila pulled the strips of ham out of the pan and began listing the breakfast items. "Butterscotch sticky buns, roasted seasoned potatoes, and a Florentine omelet with ham and creamed spinach."
"Good lord, honey. My kitchen ain't never seen dishes so fancy."
Lila served Mrs. Wheaton up a cup of coffee and motioned for her to sit at the table while she finished up. "I wanted to say thank you for all your help. And your hospitality."
"You coulda just said it, instead of slaving away at fixin' up a gourmet meal. Not that I don't appreciate it. It smells heavenly."
A sleepy silver head poked its way into the door, Jake's eyes coming alive when they lit on the pot of coffee in Lila's hand. Tony shoved him from behind and the pair stumbled into the kitchen. Lila suppressed a laugh as she dug out two more coffee cups and set them down on the table in front of the gentlemen.
She began placing plates on the table and watched with a pleased smile at the moans of delight coming from her companions.
"So good," Tony said around a mouthful of omelet. Then he gave her a hard stare. "You're going to have to pay for the gym membership I'll have to buy when I get back home."
Mrs. Wheaton laughed, and he turned his gaze on her. "Actually, you two will have to split it."
Jake rolled his eyes and took a long sip of coffee. A pang of jealousy went through Lila. There was an open seat at the table, and although she wanted to deny it, she would have given anything for a certain someone to be filling it.
Mrs. Wheaton gave a gusty sigh and turned in Lila's direction. "Git yerself a plate and come sit down, girl."
Lila dutifully piled food on a plate and carried it to the table, taking the remaining empty chair. She took a few bites, able to appreciate the well-chosen combination of flavors, but then began pushing her food around, her stomach rebelling.
"What happened to the flight?" she asked after a few moments.
"Change of plans," Tony said, his eyes firmly on his plate.
Lila's eyes narrowed. She didn't like the sound of that. "Well, when will we be leaving then?"
"Not sure yet. Damn, these sticky buns are good." Tony took a huge bite, obviously attempting to change the subject.
One of Jake's eyebrows rose as he looked at him. Then he turned his dark eyes on Lila. "What he's trying to say, and for some reason can't, is that Drake changed the plans. He asked us to wait to take you back to Atlanta until after today."
Lila frowned and noticed the sympathetic look in Jake's eyes. It riled her, that Alex was still manipulating her situation. "Ridiculous," she mumbled, then bore down on Tony. "If we leave now, can I still make the flight?"
Tony shrugged, deferring to Jake who checked the clock on the wall. "If I drove like hell, you'd probably still miss final boarding. I'm sorry."
Lila stood, stiffly carrying her plate toward the sink. Asshole! What was he thinking? Even though she'd been lamenting her leaving the small town and its people, the thought of staying longer, at Alex Drake's behest, left her cold.
Did he think he could wear her down? He couldn't. All he could do was make their parting more difficult, make the pain cut that much deeper. Why didn't he understand that?
"What the fuck is he doing?" she muttered to herself.
"Language, honey," Mrs. Wheaton said over the brim of her coffee mug. "And I reckon before long you can ask him yerself."
* * *
Alex stood outside the rooming house but didn't go in. Although it was cold, he stood on the curb, blowing his breath into his hands to warm them. He was too jittery to stay inside his car, so he stood outside, waiting.
It wasn't long before the white news van appeared, pulling up across the street. A well-dressed man jumped out, followed by a couple others who began lugging out equipment. Alex crossed the street, holding out his hand.
"Alex Drake. Thanks for coming."
"Steve Gossett. And I should be thanking you."
Gossett looked him up and down, making note of Alex's casual appearance. "I've gotten the details from your publicist, but I want to confirm some things. You're giving us an exclusive interview?"
"More than that," Alex said with a friendly slap to the reporter's arm. "I'm going to give you a tour of my hometown. Have your guys take some shots of Main Street, and then load the equipment back in the van. I'm gonna show you around."
Gossett's eyes widened, and he licked his lips, probably in anticipation. "Sounds good."
Alex stood impatiently while the crew filmed the street. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, astonished at his nerves. He'd known it wasn't going to be easy, giving the press open access to his past, but he wasn't expecting this bout of nervous energy.
There was a lot riding on today, and his body knew that.
It was Monday morning, and around them Main Street started coming to life. Shops were opening, heads were peering out of cracked doors, and the camera crew was beginning to draw attention. Twenty minutes later, the crew was loading equipment back into the van, and Alex was giving the driver a set of directions in case they were separated.
He'd decided to tackle the hardest part first. They were headed to the shack, his childhood home. Soon the whole world would see where he came from.
* * *
Despite Mrs. Wheaton's prediction, Lila spent most of the day waiting. Tension was mounting inside her, every second that she waited for Alex to appear and explain himself. Morning had become afternoon before the room
ing house door opened and she heard the voices from her seat in the small sitting room.
She made her way into the entry hall, standing in the shadows across from the reception desk. Alex stood there, talking to Mrs. Wheaton.
"If you're agreeable, the sitting room should suit my purposes nicely, with the light coming in from the west."
"It's yers, young man," she replied with a smile, a wrinkled hand coming up to pat him on his cheek.
Alex smiled, then stuck his head outside the front door. He came back inside and rubbed a hand against Mrs. Wheaton's back. "It shouldn't take longer than a couple of hours."
"Take as long as you want. I'll put dinner on so it'll be ready when ya'll are done."
As Mrs. Wheaton headed off toward her kitchen, the front door opened to let in a group of guys, some carrying heavy equipment.
"This way," Alex said, moving toward where Lila was standing.
She cringed backwards, suddenly embarrassed to be caught watching him. She'd intended to confront him immediately, to tell him that she wouldn't be manipulated anymore and to insist he rebook her flight right away. Instead she'd been thinking about how handsome he looked in his plaid shirt and faded jeans. Like an angel fallen to earth, disguising himself among mortal folk. Now she was trapped.
He caught sight of her and froze. "Through there," he said, motioning his companions past them and down the hall to the sitting room.
Then he grabbed her hand, jolting her with the now familiar electricity that sparked whenever he touched her. "Come with me," he said. His voice was low, his expression serious. "I want you to see this."
He propelled them forward, and the movement freed Lila to speak again. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice high, angry. "Why did you tell the guys not to take me back to Atlanta today? What are you--"
"Later," he said, cutting her off, causing her anger to flare into fury. He put his hand on the small of her back and pushed her forward down the narrow hallway so she had no choice but to enter the sitting room.
Worth the Risk: (A Contemporary Bad Boy Romance) Page 74