by N. K. Smith
As I run hand through my hair, perfecting it in the mirror, I make my decision. “You promise not to spill to anyone but the boys?”
“Course.”
“Do you promise to make them promise, too?”
His voice is indignant. “When we gonna rat you out? Fuck you if you think you’re so goddamn important that we even give a shit about—”
“It’s Cole.”
Brady pauses. “Holy shit. I thought you were going to say you’re banging that Addison chick, but Jesus, Devon, you’re hitting Collette fucking Stroud?”
My stomach knots, but I adopt a firm tone. “It’s not like that, Brady. We’re not just fucking, although the sex is amazing; I’m like crazy into this girl. She’s . . . well, damn, it’s hard to find a descriptive word that she’s not. She’s so smart and funny and together.”
“And it don’t hurt that she’s a powerful Hollywood millionaire and has an incredible fuckable body to boot, does it?”
My jaw clenches. Brady is my friend, but I’m about to go off on him for making it sound like I’m interested in Cole for her money, power, and body.
“Don’t deny it,” he goes on. “I saw her spread in Maxim. Two words: Fucking hot.”
“Listen, I know she’s hot, but shut the fuck up, okay?”
“You guys are gonna be like that other couple. Shit what’s their names? The forty year old chick with the young guy? I mean, not only is it hot, like I’m totally jealous of you right now, but it’s completely acceptable in society. So how old is she, bro? Like thirty—”
“She’s thirty-three, but shut the hell up, man. I like her. I mean, I really like her, so have some respect when you’re—”
“Ah, shit,” he says. “This is gonna be like Hannah in the eleventh grade, ain’t it? You’re gonna get all sensitive until we’re not gonna be able to make the slightest comment about anything remotely to do with her.”
“No, it’s—”
“And what happened with Hannah, Devy-boy?” He gives a little pause, but not long enough for me to even try to answer. “She broke your tender little heart, and then we listened to your bitching and moaning for six months.”
“All the while telling me you told me so. I remember.”
“Except we couldn’t tell you she was fucking around because you wouldn’t hear it.”
“This is different, okay? First, because of the paparazzi, Cole and I can’t be caught together, and because of the whole world giving a shit about what she does, no one can know. So you can’t tell. And second, don’t talk about her body because it’s disrespectful, and I don’t tell you how smokin’ Brooke is because you’d knock my teeth out if I told you she made my dick hard that time she dropped the spaghetti all over the floor and was on her hands and knees cleaning it up.” Thinking myself clever, I smile.
“Yo, fuck you. Don’t be—”
“Disrespecting the girl you love?”
“Exactly.”
“Fine, but don’t disrespect Cole either.”
“The difference is that I’ve been with Brooke since the dawn of time. We grew up one house apart—our parents practically betrothed us, and you just met Cole. And it’s not like Brooke’s an important public figure; she’s a bartender.”
“So?”
“Fine,” Brady says with defeat in his voice. “I’ll be respectful of your feelings for her.”
“Thank you.”
“So what’s it like to fuck her?”
Asshole. I laugh. God, it’ll be good to see him.
A week and a half passes and my friends are in town; we’re all going out clubbing. By we, I mean most of the cast, and some of the younger members of the crew. The studio people have come to visit, so Cole has been incredibly busy. Too busy to even return some of my texts.
I tried to see her at lunch to introduce my friends, but Julie blocked me with a vindictive smile. Lucas told me he’s nailing her now, and Julie made sure I knew it today. Her innuendo was thinly veiled, but Matty had to be obtuse and point out that she implied my dick was like a pencil compared to Lucas’s.
I just narrowed my eyes as we walked away.
But now that the shooting is over for the day and Oscar told me the studio brass were on their way back to Cali, I bring my friends up to Cole’s floor. I’m old news to the security guards, so I don’t get hassled when I step out, but they give me a worried look as they nod to Brady, Matt, Cooper, and Needles.
“They’re cool. You can check them if you want,” I tell the security guard, Matthew. He looks to Seth, who nods back.
Matthew and Seth pat down my friends as if they’ve just been arrested on the side of the road. No one is prepared for it, so when my friends are done being violated, I throw them an apologetic smile.
“When I’m famous, you’ll have to be strip searched to gain access to me,” Cooper says.
At her door, I knock. When it opens, the first thing I see is Cole’s smile. She looks relieved to see me, but then she sees my friends behind me. The smile falters. It doesn’t disappear completely, but it changes to an on-camera smile.
“Uh, hello.” Something is definitely wrong. I’m thrown off guard by the instant shift in the air around us. “Cole, my friends are in town, and I wanted you to meet them.”
“Hi,” she says as she eyes them one by one.
Cole seems to do two contradictory things at once: exude more confidence in her posture, but shrink back into herself. I don’t know that my friends see the shrinking part. Maybe I can sense it because of all the time I’ve spent with her, but a definite change happens. I feel her pulling away.
Before I know what I’m doing, I place a hand on her elbow.
She looks down at it, then back up. Her eyes do not connect with mine, instead they go back to my friends. “How long are you all in town?”
“Just the weekend,” Brady says.
“Big plans?” Cole shifts subtly to make my hand drop from her elbow.
I answer quickly, “Everyone’s going to Club U. Do you want to come? It’d be—”
“No, I’ve got a bunch of stuff to do. I hope you guys have fun,” she says. It’s insincere.
By the time the guys are saying goodbye to her, she retreats into her suite. Just when I try to speak again, the door clicks.
“Well, that was weird and awkward,” Needles says.
“Yeah, and you’d know about awkward, wouldn’t ya? Tell us again about what you did when Becks found you making out with those two college girls?”
I breathe a sigh of relief that Brady is so good at deflecting attention and in my corner. My heart pounds and my face is flush with embarrassment. As we wait for the elevator, I can feel Brady turns his eyes on me, wondering what the hell is happening.
“I’ll meet you guys in my room,” I say, handing Brady the room card. When the elevator opens, they get in, and I head back to Cole’s door.
She waits until she sees that I’m alone to show me a real expression. The fake smile fades, and she draws her brow together. “What the hell?”
“What the hell, what?”
“You bring your friends to my suite?”
I hold my hands up in innocence. “They wanted to meet you. I wanted you to meet them.”
Cole folds her arms over her chest. “You told them about us.”
It’s not a question; it’s an accusation, and I respond to it as such. “Yeah, I did. Those guys are my—”
Cole narrows her eyes. “What part of secret did you not understand?”
I try to keep my voice even as my emotions start to drive my reaction. “I’m not an idiot. If I thought they’d tell everyone about us, I wouldn’t have—”
“I take back saying your naivety is cute. It’s not. You don’t think those guys would sell you out in a second when the press offers them lots of money for any piece of juicy trash?”
“No, I don’t think that. They would never do anything like that.” I reach out and try to follow her.
She steps bac
k into her suite and stops me before I’m even over the threshold. “It’s not okay that you told your buddies the first chance you got. The rules I have are simple, and none of them are arbitrary. I’d love to tell everyone about how I met this terrific guy, but—”
“You can’t because I’m not as cool as Oliver.” I practically spit out his name. “Because you’re afraid of what people might say when they see you with a younger guy? A nobody?”
Cole actually rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “I’ve been seen with a lot of younger men, thank you very much, and you’re not a nobody. I’m trying to protect you from—”
“Me? Bullshit. You’re protecting yourself, and it’s offensive that you think I’m stupid enough to tell people I don’t trust. My friends don’t care who I’m with, they’re loyal, and would never sell me out.”
“Whatever.”
“Don’t be pissed, Cole. Come on.” I try to touch her.
She pushes my arm away. “You have no idea what this could do, or how much pressure I’m under already.”
“Cole,” I try again and this time she lets me cup her face with my hand. “They’re awesome guys, really. Come out with us and—”
“When are you going out?”
“ ’Bout eleven.” I place a hand on her waist. “Gives us plenty of time to—”
“I’ve got a lot to do. Maybe I’ll see you at the club.” Without anything else, she removes herself from my grasp and closes the door.
“I am fucking wasted,” I announce to a table full of people, half of whom are my friends from New York. They laugh. Probably because it’s not a secret how drunk I am.
We started off the night with a shot of whiskey, moved on to rum and Cokes, then a shit-ton of beer. When Cole still hadn’t showed up by one in the morning, I did a couple more shots. Now I’m planted in this booth, watching people dance, listening to my friends try to make it with my female cast members.
They’re bombing.
I’m on instant alert as soon as I see Cole. I want her to come over to me, but she doesn’t. Obviously, I fucked up by wanting to introduce my friends to her. Obviously, I’m a fucking idiot for thinking I had the right to want something like that, but how the hell was I supposed to know it was forbidden? I had asked her if we were in a relationship, and she said we were.
I know she wants it on the down-low, but damn, not even telling our friends about it? Is that really what this is?
Brady is staring at me as I stare at Cole. She crosses over to one of the five bars in this joint. She looks so fucking hot in her tight yellow dress that leaves her shoulders exposed and her legs bare. She isn’t wearing a bra, and I think about sucking on her perfect tits. Her nipples would be incredibly responsive. Just a lick over one would get it standing up tall. Her moans when I suck them hard would be like an instant testosterone shot into my veins.
“Maybe you shouldn’t watch this,” Brady says.
I focus and see Cole talking to some guy at the bar. She takes him by the hand and leads him out to the dance floor. She turns around, which brings her back flush with him. His body is curved around her so that his groin is against her ass. Every time they move, I know she can feel his cock against her.
He’s probably hard, thinking about how tight she’ll be, and wondering if she will let him stick it in her.
Julie comes up next to me as I watch Cole dance. I bristle at her mere presence.
She leans over and says, “Guess you’re not the flavor of the night.”
I hate Julie so much. I turn my narrowed eyes on her, ready to tear into her.
She just laughs.
I ready to grab her by the arms and push her away from me when someone stops me.
Brady shoos me out of the booth, then wraps an arm around my shoulder and walks me to the bar. “Fuck ‘em, Devy. Fuck ‘em both.”
“I did.” My voice is low under the loud din of the people around us.
Brady doesn’t hear me, and orders me something.
I drink whatever it is. I love the nice buzz of alcohol, but I hate the moment when I’ve drunk too much. That moment is fast approaching, so when my friend tries to buy another round, I wave him off.
Brady’s elbows are on the bar, and he faces out to the dance area.
I keep my eyes on the bottles lined up behind the bar even though I feel desperate to catch a glimpse of what Cole is doing.
“You think she’s just playing a game?”
I ask, “Who? Cole or Julie?”
“Both, but who gives a shit about Julie, right? You said you weren’t into her. Cole’s the one got you all strung out.”
Finally, I allow myself to turn. Like everywhere she goes, Cole is the center of everyone’s consciousness, and I find her easily. “Don’t know,” I answer. “Maybe. She could have any guy she wanted, right? So why me?” I stare out at Cole, whose ass is pressed against that guy’s groin.
Brady stares at me. “ ’Cause you’re a fucking good guy, that’s why.”
“This is Hollywood.”
“No, actually it’s Boston.”
His attempt at lightening my mood doesn’t work. “You know what I mean. No one cares if I’m a good guy.”
The dude holds Cole’s hips. A pulsing rage flows through me, forcing my hands into fists.
“Well, if she’s going to be a fickle bitch, at least you got to hit it.”
I turn to Brady, all of my anger now turning onto him. “Shut up. She’s not a bitch, and you fucking know I’m not like that. You may want to sum everything up into hitting it, but I don’t. And besides, you’re such a shitty liar. We all know just how whipped you are. Brooke owns you, and you’re not fooling anyone using terms like tap her ass or hitting it. You go home and you make love to the girl you want to marry. Stop pretending like you don’t.”
He simply looks at me for a moment, then grins and holds up a finger to me. “You know, Needles always said one day you were gonna have enough and speak your mind. We’ve known each other for what? Eight years? Finally, it’s happened, and if it’s because of this chick, then don’t go all pouty and blue. Fucking go get her.”
Something Julie said a while back breaks through in my mind. About how Cole wanted the sweet, intelligent type, but also wanted someone who was completely masculine. I’m still not sure what I should do.
She’s so pissed because I told my close friends that I have a thing with her. How the hell will she react if I go out onto the dance floor and pull her away from that dude like a caveman? Would she let me pull her over to the bathrooms? Would her security team? A million cells with cameras would be pointed in our direction.
I wonder if maybe she wants me to go all Neanderthal on her, drag her to the bathroom and fuck her hard against the cold metal of the stall partition again. But too many people will see.
By the time I decide not to plan what I’m going to do, but just do it, I can’t find her. The tall guy she was dry humping on the dance floor makes his way back to his table.
But where is she?
“She’s headed to the exit,” Brady says, chucking a thumb behind him and to the left.
I start heading toward her, but then stop and turn back to my friends. “Will you guys get back okay?”
“Baby boy,” he says while he slaps my cheek, “We’re from NYC. We got this shit.”
The throngs of people standing, dancing, tripping, and moving all over the place doesn’t make it easy for me to weave through them. Some of them are talking about Cole. They can’t believe she was here. Some of them are just standing there, staring after her. And some of them won’t get the fuck out of my way so I can get to her.
Finally, I’m outside. The cold air hits me, sobers me up just a bit. When my eyes find the SUV, Oscar closes Cole’s door and gets into the passenger side himself.
I race over to the vehicle and stop his door from closing. “I need to talk to her.” My heart and breath are still racing, and I’m still drunk, so there is nothing I can do to stop thi
s man from squishing me like a bug if he wants to.
Oscar gets back out and towers over me. “She’s waiting for you.”
I’m not quite sure what the information means, but I waste no time opening the back door and slide in.
Cole sits with her legs crossed; her eyes on me.
“Uh,” I say. Brilliant. Very intelligent.
Her lips are pressed together, but there is a lightness in her eyes that wasn’t there this afternoon.
Maybe she isn’t so pissed. “Listen,” I begin again, as Xavier pulls us away from the curb. “I wasn’t trying to fuck things up. I only told them we were—”
“You’re drunk.”
“Yep.” I extend my hand until the tips of my fingers can touch her exposed leg.
“Apologies mean shit when people are intoxicated.”
“I’ll say sorry again tomorrow.”
“What makes you think you’ll have a chance?”
“Because you didn’t leave the club with him,” I say, referring to the asshole she had been dancing with.
Cole glances up front at Xavier and Oscar, then turns back to me. With her back pressed against the door, she brings one foot up between us and spreads her legs. She puts one finger up to her lips, motioning me to be quiet. I almost miss it because I’m too busy looking at the pussy staring out at me from beneath her skirt.
It’s glistening.
Just as I reach out to trace the lips with my finger, she shifts and hides her soft spot from me. “I could’ve left with him, you know.”
I nod. But Cole doesn’t just want someone who’ll take all of her shit. She wants someone who’ll fight back against it, so I move close to her and whisper, “But you don’t want him. You want me. My cock.”
I put my hand up her skirt; my fingers pry her legs apart a little. “Are you wet for me or him?” I ask, my mouth touching her ear.
She doesn’t answer, so I push my thumb against her clit and slide my index finger into her. “Did you get wet because you were dancing with him, or because you were thinking about me watching you?”
I draw my finger out, almost all the way and press her little clit harder. “Me or him?” I ask again, practically growling into her ear.