I don’t blame her. I am a fucking disgrace to men right now – a disgrace for everything I stand for. I was careless, only thinking with my dick and not the repercussions if we’d actually crossed that line.
We did cross a line. This relationship was supposed to stay professional, and the way I ate her pussy was far from that. The hunger to taste her everywhere has been tormenting me. I couldn’t hold myself back any longer – no matter how hard I fought. Stepping away from Stella has been one of the most difficult conflicts of my life, and I’m becoming the biggest fucking loser.
And then I used the same mouth I pleasured her with to insult her when I realized we didn’t have a condom. I said it wrong. I couldn’t even stutter out a decent excuse or tell her I wasn’t afraid she’d give me a damn venereal disease. I know shit can happen. Birth control isn’t always dependable. Dallas and Lucy thought they were careful when they got pregnant with Maven.
Cameron got pregnant when she was on the pill two years ago. We weren’t planning on it, but we were excited. She lost our baby only ten weeks in. I never want to feel grief like that again. It nearly killed us. We spent months mourning our loss, and we never wanted to go through it again, so fear of a miscarriage took over our hopes of children. Maybe that’s what was the killer to our relationship … why she strayed when I left.
“I’m sorry,” I say when we get in the SUV. Jim has been out for a few days, so I’ve been driving her to her errands and auditions. I look over at her with the keys in my hand. I’m not turning on the car or leaving until she hears me out. “What I said came out wrong. I told you I’m not experienced in this shit.” She shakes her head without looking at me. “Say something, please. I feel like a fucking piece of shit.”
Her hair hits the window when she whips around to glare at me. “You had a girlfriend for nearly a decade. You’re experienced. Hell, you’re more experienced than men who’ve screwed dozens of chicks because you were there for her not only physically but emotionally.” She throws her arms out. “I get it. I’m not your type.” She taps her chest. “You don’t see me for me. You’ve made that clear from day one.”
I swallow a few times before saying anything. “I’ll admit I was wrong to judge you at first, but now I’m fighting with myself on what to do here. I’ve explained why taking that step isn’t smart for us. I’m moving in two months. We’ll never be able to have a relationship.”
“Why does it have to be a relationship?” she shrieks, crossing her arms. “Why can’t we go into it casually and see where it takes us?”
“Do you honestly think we can do that? Only sex?” Maybe she can, but I can’t. I’ve never been able to separate feelings with sex because I’ve never had to.
“I don’t know what to do, but I feel like I have to do something. I don’t want to walk away from you. I can’t stop myself from wanting more from you. We can try it, only sex. If it doesn’t work out, we can both walk away without any explanation.”
The feeling is mutual, but I can’t walk away from someone without an explanation. I sure as fuck can’t let them walk away from me without telling me what I’ve done wrong. Casual sex has never interested me.
She frowns when I shove the keys into the ignition. “We should get going,” I say. “Don’t want you to be late.”
“You are the most confusing person on this fucking planet,” she groans.
She stays on her phone while I follow the GPS directions as my thoughts roam about our situation. Maybe casual sex is something I need to try. I was monogamous for years, and that didn’t work out. I’ve never experienced the bachelor life.
Maybe it’s time I do.
Maybe we can both use each other for awhile.
Chapter Nineteen
Stella
I’m forcing the cheesiest smile that I’ve ever faked in my life on my face while staring down at the script in my hand.
I did my makeup and rode thirty minutes in traffic hell for this?
I hate it.
The character sucks.
The storyline sucks.
And the cherry on top is that my management company loves it and wants me to take it as my next gig.
Fuck my life.
Margot, the next damsel in distress, is not the role I want. I took the one with Eli to get my feet wet in the movie industry like my management team advised, but to continue playing the dimwit, naïve woman who needs a man supporting her to survive is not the career path I want to take. This chick stalks, yes freaking stalks, this dude she met in a coffee shop because he resembles her ex-boyfriend. She then proceeds to ruin the girl he’s engaged to in order to get his attention. They end up falling in love in the end.
This is a love story?
I don’t think I can play the role of a desperate and obsessed psychopath well.
Sure, I’ve been panting over Hudson for the past few days and making sexual advances at him like a cat in heat, but I’m not standing over his bed at night watching him sleep or stealing locks of his hair and hiding them inside my pillowcase.
I should’ve done my homework and read the script before coming here, but I’d been too busy. Not to mention, my management team didn’t make it sound like I had the option to bow out of this one.
“Stella.”
The woman’s voice startles me. I glance up and look at the producer and casting director staring at me in question.
I drop my hand down with the script in my hand. “Huh?”
“I asked if you think Eli will have an issue with you having a different man as a love interest,” the casting director says with annoyance. “Some men don’t like their girlfriends making out with other men.”
I hesitate, biting back my smartass comment for the sake of my career. Maybe if I tell her Eli is a possessive freak who will cut my toes off if I kiss someone else they won’t give me the role and management won’t be up my ass about it.
“Uh no,” I mutter. “He knows how the industry works. We both do.”
Yes, I’m a chicken shit. Sue me.
She stacks her papers together and presses them against the table. “Perfect. We’ll be in touch.”
I give them another fake smile and exit the room, passing a row of other women auditioning to be Margot The Maniac. Hudson jumps up from his chair when he sees me, and I let him guide me outside to the SUV.
He’s still on my shitlist. He let me in, stripped me down until I was completely bare to him, and then walked away like it meant nothing. If he thought his bullshit talk in the car was going to make me feel any better, he’s stupid.
“How did it go?” he questions while turning on the car.
I cross my arms and sulk in my seat. “I don’t want to talk about it.” If we start a conversation, it’ll end up in a screaming match – with me doing all of the screaming. And not the good screaming that coincides with an orgasm.
“You didn’t get the part?”
“I probably did.” My plan had been to give him the silent treatment, but just like everything else in my life, that’s not going as projected.
“Then why does it look like someone told you your dog died?”
“Because I’m having a pretty shitty day, thanks in large part to you.” I hold two fingers inches apart from each other. “We were this close to having sex.” I stretch them out, emphasizing my aggravation. “Not only did I lose the opportunity to possibly have the best sex of my life because the orgasm-giver turned out to be a complete a-hole, I then had to leave and audition for the stupidest role in the world.”
“Look, I’m sorry. What I said wasn’t what I meant. I’m going to keep on saying it until you forgive me. I can get annoying as fuck, I promise.”
“If that’s your plan to make me feel better, it sucks ass.”
“Shit.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “I acted like an idiot. Not for the whole condom situation, but for how I treated you.” He signals between the two of us. “You and I both know if we take that step it isn’t g
oing to end well.”
“You didn’t even give me a chance.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. So damn sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
His apology doesn’t help. The urge to call him a coward is hanging on the tip of my tongue, but there’s no use. He’s had his mind made up about me from the moment he landed at LAX. “Fine, but I’m going to keep you to that.”
“I know I’m in the wrong, but can you at least give me credit for eating your pussy until you fell apart on my tongue?” His tone has changed from apologetic to cocky.
He does have a point. He didn’t exactly leave me high and dry.
More along the lines of panting and soaked.
I sigh, not willing to let him win yet. “What orgasm? I was faking it so you wouldn’t feel bad.”
He throws his head back. “Oh Princess, you may be an actress, but that wasn’t acting.”
I give him the dirtiest look I can manage. “Whatever.” My stomach growls – just in time. “I know you like to withhold me from life’s necessities and all, but can you at least feed me? You’ve already starved me of another orgasm.”
He grins. “A life necessity, huh?” I can’t hold back my laugh any longer. “There’s that smile.”
My smile collapses into a frown. “Don’t. I’m still fucking livid at you.”
He chuckles, aware he’s winning this round. “Where to?”
I give him directions to my favorite sushi joint a few miles away. I know I’m letting him off the hook too easy, but he’s right in a sense. Screwing him without a condom would’ve been a reckless decision – a possible catastrophe. I have no idea what’s going on in his downstairs area. I mean, I don’t think burn, itch or odor has him down, but you never know. At least one of us was thinking rational and with more than his sex organ and crazy libido.
Getting pregnant isn’t an option for me. My head hurts with just the thought of having a child right now. I can barely take care of myself, let alone be responsible enough to make sure another human has their mushed-up carrots and formula that doesn’t make them too gassy. I have someone who schedules my manicures, for Christ’s sakes. I need to be smarter, but that’s hard to do around Hudson.
He pulls up to the curb in front of the restaurant. “You want me to run in and get you take out?” he asks, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Or if you’re meeting someone I can park, walk you in there, and then wait out here until you’re finished?”
“Give the keys to the valet,” I direct him. “We’re dining in.”
“We’re?” he questions. I nod when he signals between the two of us to clarify. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Am I that embarrassing to be around?” I throw back sarcastically.
“Yes. Look at you, all dressed in heels and looking hot as hell. I’d get made fun of for days for hanging out with such an atrocious creature.”
I unbuckle my seatbelt and push his side. “Come on. I’m starving, and my sushi craving is killing me with every second we’re having this ridiculous conversation.”
He doesn’t move. “Did you say sushi?”
“Sure did.”
He shakes his head. “Nu uh, I don’t eat that raw fish, seaweed shit.”
I stare at him baffled. “Who doesn’t eat sushi?”
He thrusts his thumb into his chest. “Me, that’s who. I already let you convince me to spend my morning twisting my limbs into positions that my balls will never forgive me for. I draw the line at eating that shit. I like my fish fried, baked, and actually cooked.”
I roll my eyes but laugh. “Too bad. I’m not eating alone.” I open up my door and jump out without waiting for his response. He curses under his breath as he joins me and hands the valet the keys.
“Pain in my ass,” he grumbles, opening the door for me.
I muster back a laugh. “Paybacks a bitch.”
“You sure they don’t have burgers here?” Hudson asks, turning the menu front to back a few times like he’s missing something. “There’s a hidden menu you don’t want me to see, isn’t there?”
I tap my fingers against my menu. “Try the damn sushi and quit being a diva. I’m sure you’ve eaten worse.”
“I absolutely have, but not when I’ve had a choice.”
“How about you try this, and I’ll let you choose dinner, deal?”
He smirks. “So you plan on sharing another meal with me?”
I look down in an attempt to hide my smile. “Possibly.” I do! I do!
He slides his menu to me from across the table. “Fine, order me whatever you’re having, and let’s see if you convince me to broaden my horizons.”
I make him take the first bite when the waiter brings us our food. He stares at it for a few seconds, scrunching up his nose, and hesitantly picks up his chopsticks like I’m asking him to eat cow balls. He pinches the chopsticks together and then snags a roll, bringing it in front of his face to examine it before shoving it in his mouth.
“Admit it,” I say when he starts chewing. “It’s not as bad as you thought.”
“Fine,” he groans, swallowing it down. “You win.” I clap my hands and squeal. “Settle down. I’m not saying I want to eat it every day of my life.”
I’m smiling when I grab my chopsticks and dig in. I’ve on my second roll when it happens. I almost choke on my food. Hudson looks at me with worry as I force myself to swallow the food and wash it down with water, taking a giant gulp.
“And I thought this day couldn’t get any worse,” I mutter, narrowing my eyes on the movement behind him as a couple gets seated at a table on the opposite side of the room.
Hudson turns around to see what’s caught my attention. “I’d like to think you had a pretty good start to the day.” He shifts back around. “Who’s the dude?”
I haven’t seen Knox in months, nor have I wanted to. He’s let his hair grow out, has gained some weight, but he looks happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. His smile reminds me of the one he had when we were young and falling in love before we let the industry beat us up.
His girlfriend is with him. I recognize Libby from the tabloids and have heard her name more times than I’d prefer. They question me about her during interviews, when people ask for my autograph, or when the paparazzi just want to be an asshole. Everyone wants to know what I think about the woman that supposedly stole my boyfriend from me. He’s happy, I can tell.
I cross my fingers in my lap in hopes they don’t notice me, or if they do, they choose to ignore me. “My ex,” I finally answer Hudson.
“Do you want to leave?” he asks, his voice lowering.
I shake my head. “No, it’s fine.” I grab another roll. “I’m good.”
He doesn’t look convinced. “Do you still have feelings for him?”
I hate this question because I’ve been asked it too many times. “God, no. I don’t want him back.” I look down at my lap and play with my napkin. “What’s bothering me is that I’m scared I’ll never have that.”
“Have what?”
“Someone to look at me like he does her. Real love. The shit they preach about in the movies they want me to star in.” I rub at my eyes. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.
Hudson takes a sip of his water. “Why don’t you think you’ll ever have that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“You’re young, Stella. Give it time. Don’t give up.”
“So you haven’t given up on love?”
“Fuck no. I’m not going to let a woman who cheated on me stop me from eventually marrying, having kids, and doing the whole shebang. She isn’t going to force me to live the rest of my life alone. Fuck that. I’ll end up happier that I would’ve been with her.”
I take a deep breath, feeling like it’s my turn to share something personal. “My only dating experience is him and a fake boyfriend. I’m not sure I even know what love is. I mean, I thought I loved Knox, and it hurt like a bitch when we broke up, but maybe that’s
because it’s all I ever knew. But after awhile, it almost felt like a relief. We weren’t meant to be, and we needed to quit wasting our time. You know what I’m saying?”
He holds up his hand, smiling. “No explanation needed. My dating history is worse than yours. One girlfriend. No fake ones. I’m the wrong person to be judging or giving any love-life advice.”
I give him a hard look. “I told you no more talk about fake relationships.”
“Are you still in one?” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “It would make me incredibly happy if you weren’t.”
He’s making me forgot Knox is even in the room. Hudson is overtaking me in so many ways it’s unfathomable. “I think you know the answer to that.”
The awkward silence comes back. “Was your ex in the business too?” he asks, breaking the tension.
“You really don’t know?” I ask, shocked.
“I wouldn’t ask if I did.”
“He’s Knox Rivers.”
His nose wrinkles in disbelief. “You dated that dude?”
“Sure did.” I can tell he’s heard the stories about Knox. Most of them aren’t good. “He wasn’t always like that. People change. He was different when he was sixteen. He was monogamous and not the guy who only banged models.”
“So he cheated on you?”
“No.” I’m telling the truth, but most people don’t believe me. “We broke up and got back together a lot. Sometimes two or three times a week. It was during those times we’d hook up with other people. Never when we were together.”
“Sounds like a stable relationship.”
“You know it. We stayed together because we were so close and went through the phases of becoming famous at the same time. We stayed because we felt like the other understood us. Sometimes I think he was the only one who truly did understand what I was going through.” I gulp and break eye contact, hating how he seems to bring honesty and my feelings to the surface.
“Your parents weren’t there for you?” That’s something I’ve never talked about with Hudson.
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