I’d have been lying if I’d said the current situation didn’t affect me a small bit. I was a strong woman, but still human after all. Things got to me. Even Sam and his betrayal were affecting my heart—though, I’d admit, a lot less than it should’ve.
Sam grimaced. “Look, Shay, I think you’re a great girl, but—”
“No,” I cut in, shaking my head. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to break up with me while you’re shirtless on the street because I caught you cheating. No, I’m breaking up with you, okay? So, take yourself back inside and return to screwing your princess. You two are actually perfect for one another. As far as you and I go? We’re done. So, just to be clear, I broke up with you. Not the other way around. Okay?”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
Okay?
Gosh, why was he so all right with the break-up?
Of course he didn’t fight for me, because we weren’t fireworks in the sky. We were little sparklers that fizzled out with no longevity.
There was no point for me to keep pushing him, to keep making digs at his actions. Truth was, we hardly even knew one another. We weren’t ever going to be anything more than the past nine months. We weren’t going to discover any more firsts.
I wouldn’t meet his mom, and he wouldn’t meet mine.
He wouldn’t celebrate my birthday, and I wouldn’t give him Christmas gifts.
We were just a couple of almosts.
Come on, Shay. Chin up, head high, and walk away. You’ve known your mailman longer than you’ve known this boy. There are canned goods in your pantry older than this relationship. Move on.
I headed toward my car, not feeling too much about the whole situation or about Sam. I wished I could’ve said I was surprised, but life had taught me all about men. It turned out all guys were the same, no matter what. It could be a nerd, a jock, a scientist, or a monk. At the end of the day, they were all alike because they all had dicks.
All a dick could do was dickish things, and us women had to deal with it.
But on the plus side, at least wine still existed.
As I headed to my car to leave, my phone dinged with a message from Eleanor.
Eleanor: Just a heads-up, I think Landon is bringing a woman tonight. Maybe reconsider having mystery man on your arm?
Oh, great.
I was going to skip right over the wine and head straight for the vodka.
Anyone who thought eleven A.M. was too early for vodka, probably never tried it. I shouldn’t have cared that Landon was bringing a woman. He could’ve brought every lady on the planet on his arm, and I should’ve been fine with that fact. But truthfully, I wasn’t. After seeing him the other night, wounds that I thought were closed began to reopen again. Then with Sam’s betrayal, I felt even more exposed.
I sat in my apartment, mindlessly swiping left and right on my cell phone like the pathetic woman I had become. For the last year and a half, I’d banned myself from dating apps. After joining them earlier in an attempt to get over Satan, I’d found there was a slippery slope that came with the territory. The level of addiction I had to opening the applications was sickening.
Bumble? Tinder? Coffee Meets Bagel?
Didn’t matter—I was obsessed.
Not only was there the mindless swiping, there was also the whole dramatic phrase of deleting all dating applications from your cell phone, because you were—quote unquote—over it, only to re-download them a week later, because addiction was real, and who knew, maybe PimpDaddy69 was truly my soul mate. Just because he wrote his bio in all caps and spelled princess with two dollar symbols, didn’t mean he wasn’t my knight in $hining armor.
Maybe he needed the right girl to shape him into a good man.
Dating in your thirties felt a lot like fishing in a dirty goldfish bowl with murky water. Most of the fish were floating upside down, and the ones who weren’t were running head first into the sides.
Which was exactly why I’d opted out of the dating apps world so long ago. I had found Sam only because he walked into the bakery I worked at, and I swore if I were to date again, I’d have to cross paths with the person in a real-world scenario.
Yet there I was, vodka-drunk at eleven in the morning, swiping right nonstop, because I was in need of an instant fling, just for a few hours.
I needed someone to have on my arm that night, because my ego had been bruised, and I couldn’t show up emptyhanded, especially knowing my first love was going to be there with another woman.
To the rest of the world, he was Landon Pace, Hollywood’s golden boy, the next Brad Pitt. But to me? To me he was just regular ol’ Landon Harrison, the boy who broke my heart and never looked back.
I wasn’t looking forward to reconnecting with him, especially without Sam by my side, because even though Landon infuriated me to extremes, he still had some kind of effect on me. I hated the idea of being around him, because out of all the men I’d ever crossed paths with, he was the only one who made my heart run wild. I hadn’t known it was possible for a man to make your skin crawl with annoyance and tingle with desire at the same time.
I needed to put distance between us—or a human being at the very least. So, I kept drunkenly swiping on my phone, looking for a one-event stand with anyone, including PimpDaddy69.
Every time a guy would message me with DTF, I’d reply with, DTMLJAPSIMS?—down to make Landon jealous and pretend Shay is mentally stable?
Needless to say, I didn’t get too many hits, and as the hours kept passing, a hopeless feeling grew in my gut. I’d just became single, I was going to be confronted with my ultimate-ex within a few hours, and he’d have another woman on his arm.
15
Landon
I hated social gatherings.
Greyson’s whiskey launch was the first big event I attended since the Oscars, and I still wasn’t ready for it. I felt as if it took me about ten months to recover from awards season. Being surrounded by other celebrities was the most draining thing in the world, but I knew the publicity would be great for Greyson and his company. Even if we were in a space filled with snakes.
About ninety-five percent of the people at the whiskey launch hated one another, though they smiled as if they didn’t. A room filled with actors. That’s what it meant attending any social event with the extremely wealthy, but these individuals were real fucking actors. They all received their nourishment from LDG: lies, deceit, and gossip. About one-third of the crowd was probably heading toward bankruptcy yet lying their asses off about it. Another third was cheating on their spouses, and their mistresses were probably in the same room.
The last third were just really shitty humans.
Most conversations were pretty much women gossiping about crap that didn’t matter, and guys talking about how their yacht was the biggest yacht out there. That conversation opener would always launch another person to disagree, then they’d talk about their huge, throbbing yacht engines.
Easy, fellas. You’re all beautiful snowflakes.
I sipped on my whiskey and kept myself engaged enough so the tabloids wouldn’t run stories about how anti-social I had become. Normally I wouldn’t have even bothered attending an event like this, but since it was for Greyson, I knew I’d show up. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for my best friend, especially after the trauma he and his two girls went through when they were in a car crash a few months back.
Anything he’d ever needed, I’d do without question. I knew he’d do the same for me in a heartbeat.
“To your left is Ralph Weldon. He worked as a producer on your film A Time Lapse. To his left is his wife Sandra, who just gave birth to their second child a few months ago,” Willow whispered as she leaned in toward me.
I smoothed my hands over my tailored Giorgio Armani suit. My eyes darted around the whiskey function, taking in the familiar faces of people I had crossed paths with throughout the years. I never forgot a face, but I was almost guaranteed to forget a name.
Thank
fully Willow was always close by to lean in and whisper them to me. I wasn’t certain how I got anything done without her, let alone greeted others. Her brain was a filing cabinet of information, and she spat it out like Sherlock Holmes on a case.
If I asked her what I’d eaten a year ago to the date, she could go into full detail about what seasonings were used in the dish. Okay, maybe she wasn’t that good, but pretty damn close.
We walked over to Sandra and Ralph to greet them, and I congratulated them on their new child. If there was anything I was a master at, it was communicating with individuals in such a way that they felt at home when they spoke to me. It came as part of the celebrity job tasks, wining and dining individuals so you left a lasting impression. The goal was to have people so comfortable with you that the men would walk away thinking they could grab a beer with you and the women would wonder if a secret affair could take place.
Tacky, yet powerful. Being well received and liked in the world of acting was one of the best characteristics a person could hold. You couldn’t only be talented, but you had to have a solid personality to showcase said talent.
Plus, you’d leave an imprint on the individuals, and when casting directors would start their search, you’d pop into their minds.
All of Hollywood was a game. All you had to do was know how to work the system. It took me a few years to get my footing on how things went in la-la land, but once I learned, I mastered my skills.
I’d never let people in close enough to know the real me. Otherwise, I doubt I would’ve landed as many roles as I had.
For example, if Ralph and Sandra knew I’d suffered from one of my panic attacks on the way to the whiskey launch tonight, I doubt they would’ve found me as charming.
It’d been a while since I suffered from a panic attack, thanks to some good therapy sessions and the coping mechanisms I’d learned over the years. Yet after the spontaneous night of barging into Shay’s life uninvited and having her turn me away, my mind had gone into overload. I’d tried all the tools in my mental health toolbelt, but unfortunately, that wasn’t how mental health worked all the time. Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, I’d fall victim to my body giving into the panic overload.
It had happened that evening on the ride over to the event. Willow was in the SUV with me as our driver headed to the venue. She knew what was happening, too, because I always closed myself off completely. My hands gripped the sides of the seats, and I lowered my head between my thighs, trying to control my breathing.
Three good things, I’d thought to myself.
That was one of the basic teachings I’d learned from my therapist.
When I was in a full-blown panic attack, I had to force myself to name three good things that happened in the past forty-eight hours. They could be big or small, and they worked as reminders that I was going to be okay.
I woke up this morning.
Rookie ate all his dog food, something he’s been rebelling against since I gave him some human food the other night.
At least I was able to see Shay.
Three good things, three things I would’ve probably taken for granted in the past. The last thing I had definitely taken for granted.
Willow instructed the driver to take a few extra laps around the venue before dropping me off, and luckily, I’d been able to compose myself.
Willow took me around to greet a few others, and I charmed, and wowed, and played the role I’d learned to master. Empty conversations filled with no truths—it was what they wanted, so I fed them exactly that.
My eyes moved up from a producer who was going on and on about how he’d had his dick sucked by some intern a few nights ago—because that was normal cocktail conversation—and the moment they landed on the front entrance, I felt the small spark that lived inside my heart start to reignite into blasting flames.
“If you’ll excuse me, Paul,” I cut him off, taking a few steps away.
Willow was quick to accompany me. Her stare followed mine, and she tilted her head. “Well, of course that’s Greyson, but I’m not certain who the other two are. Hmm…” She tapped her fingers against her lips. “I can do some research and—”
“Shay,” I muttered, making her pause. “And her cousin Eleanor.”
“Shay,” Willow repeated. She arched an eyebrow. “You mean, like, Shay Shay. Like…the Shay?”
I nodded once, and that was enough information for Willow to know she was free to leave my side. I’d talked about my first love to Willow a few times throughout the years of her working for me, and she always called Shay my real-life Juliet, which was accurate. I was just never going to be her Romeo.
I noticed Shay the moment she walked into the room. She was laughing freely with Eleanor and Greyson, and when she tossed back the shots of whiskey, her whole body shivered in pleasure. That body…
Christ, that body.
She wore a silk black dress that fit her like a glove, highlighting every curve. Her ass looked amazing, as always, and the crimson color on her lips made my mind go crazy.
Without thought, I found myself floating in their direction. My fucking feet moved without my brain’s permission, and I hadn’t figured out what I was going to say to her. Did I bring up the awkward situation of me showing up to her place the other night? Did I keep it light? Did I pull her to the side to talk about our past? About me leaving and never coming back? Did she even care anymore? Christ. Too many thoughts in my head, not enough time to sort them out.
There was no guy on her arm, which made me feel that much more comfortable with my approach.
“Oh my gosh, Greyson! Those are amazing!” Shay beamed about my friend’s newest whiskeys. Her hips rocked back and forth as the smooth liquor glided down her throat.
Damn, those hips definitely didn’t lie.
“Which is your favorite?” I blurted out, like a damn fool. I kept my eyes on Shay, not even bothering to look at the other two, and her stare was locked with mine.
Eleanor leaned toward her cousin and whispered something or another. Shay was quick to shut her slightly agape mouth.
I smoothed my hands over my suit. “Eleanor, it’s good to see you again. Shay, long time no see,” I murmured. If you don’t count my stalking moment a few days ago. “You look as beautiful as I remember.” That was the truest thing I’d ever said in my life. Shay had gone from a beautiful girl to a breathtaking woman.
Her cheeks flushed with color. “Whatever, Landon. You look fine,” she said, waving her hand in a slight dismissal.
I tried to push down the urgent need to pull her in for a hug, because what the fuck? Hugging her wasn’t something that would’ve made sense. Even though my body wouldn’t have hated the idea of being pressed against hers. I missed her hugs. Instead, I stood tall. “I see you still have that fiery personality.”
“And I see you still haven’t grown into your ears,” she shot back, this time with a slight smile.
Her smiles, too.
I missed her hugs and smile.
I stood there, uncertain what to say after all these years, because all I truly felt was uncomfortable.
So fucking uncomfortable and awkward.
Greyson and Eleanor must’ve caught on with the awkwardness of the whole situation, because the two of them were quick to excuse themselves. When a waiter walked past with a tray of shot samples, Shay and I both reached for them, and tossed it back.
Smooth as sin.
I stuffed my hands into my slacks and smiled like a goddamn fool. “You really think I haven’t grown into my ears? People magazine voted me as Sexiest Ears Alive last year.” I tried to ease the tension, but leave it to me to make it even more odd.
She didn’t laugh, but she smiled sweetly. Damn, it had been so long since I heard her laugh. I couldn’t help but wonder what it sounded like.
I cleared my throat. “I was hoping we’d be able to talk before tonight gets wilder.”
“Talk? Talk about what?”
Everything under
the goddamn moon.
“Well, first and foremost, I wanted to apologize for dropping by your place the other night. Greyson mentioned you were coming to the party, and I said I’d love to talk to you beforehand. Raine gave me your address, too. I didn’t think it through, and I’m sorry for that.”
“It was a bit of a surprise, but no worries. Sorry I turned you away so fast. It was a weird night.”
“No, I get it. That night, I was honestly just hoping to talk about us.”
“Us?”
I rolled my shoulders back and stood taller. “I know this is probably awkward, but I wanted to make sure we were good.”
She cocked an eyebrow, baffled by my words.
I’d try again.
“When Grey told me you were coming tonight, I wanted to make sure you and I were okay. I—err—I know we didn’t end on the best terms”—she huffed loudly at my words, but I continued—“but I wanted to make sure we were okay being in the same room together.”
“Why wouldn’t I be okay with being in the same room as you? We’re both adults now, Landon. We don’t need to be the extremely angst-filled children that we were for so long.” She smiled and it felt genuine.
I lowered my brow. “Right. Of course. I just wanted to…”
Talk to you. I wanted to see you and talk to you and be near you after all those years of not, because being with you was the last time I felt like I was at home.
Shit.
I was insane.
I blinked. “Okay, well. Good. I’m glad we can be on good terms.”
“Of course. No harm no foul.” She said it so nonchalantly as if we hadn’t had such a heavy history with one another. “It’s clear that Eleanor and Grey are growing pretty close, so we’ll probably be in the same vicinity from time to time. So, perhaps it’s best we go back to the way we were.”
Her words lit a fire in my heart. The way we were when we were in love…the way we were when we used to hold one another through the darkness. It might’ve taken some time to build up to what we were, but I’d do the work. I’d show her that I wasn’t the same boy I used to be all those years before. I’d prove to her that I was better. I did the work to get right with my mind, and I knew deep down inside I could be the man she always wanted. The man she deserved. I wasn’t that same broken boy of my past. Sure, I still had scars, but the cuts weren’t as deep.
Landon & Shay - Part Two: (The L&S Duet Book 2) Page 13