by Rhonda James
“Christ, Shelbo. Ever hear of knocking?”
“What the hell is this?” She shoved her iPad at my chest before making herself comfortable on my bed and snorting, “Nice hair.”
“By all means, make yourself at home,” I grumbled and plopped down beside her, making sure to give her a few shoves with my elbow as I settled in. “What am looking at?” I asked before swiping a finger across the screen and revealing the answer to my own question.
“Talk to me, Wooby.”
Tossing the iPad aside, I groaned and ran a hand through my hair, stalling for time while flashes of last night flickered through my mind. Fuck. She couldn’t have left more than an hour ago, and I missed her already.
“It’s not what it looks like.”
Shelby rolled her eyes to the ceiling and jabbed a painted toe at my shin. “Obviously. Unless you were hiding a marriage license in your pocket, I’m fairly certain this is all a joke and you’re not really married. Right?”
“I was trying to help her get back at her ex. It was just for laughs.”
Yeah, but it was also hella fun.
“I’m still not following. How the hell did you wind up getting fake married to Sophie Banks?”
“Wait a second. How the hell do you know her name when I spent an entire night with her and never learned it?” By now, I was standing beside the bed, pacing and more than a little confused. “Was she someone you went to school with? Is that how you know her?”
“Wooby.” Shelby tapped a manicured nail on the screen, and I couldn’t help stealing another glance of the enchanting woman behind that finger. “That’s Sophie Banks. She had a brief role on that soap opera Mama’s always watching.” I stared blankly. Why did that name sound familiar? “She was in that commercial you DVR’d two years ago and watched a gazillion times. You know the one. Blonde at the beach, rubbing suntan oil on her thighs while all the guys watched.” The corner of my lip quirked in recognition. That commercial had given me the worst case of blue balls. “Oh, and last year, she was on that reality show, Almost Famous. Remember? She’s the one who had sex with that guy, and the cameras caught them in the act. For prime-time television it was pretty damn risqué.”
My nostrils flared at the thought of another man touching Tiny. That was not something I wanted to be thinking about right now. Not after last night. Then it clicked why her name sounded familiar. Last summer, Sin had been talking about Tori’s friend hooking up on national television. That was my Tiny? Son of a bitch. The one time I met a girl who knocked me on my ass, and she turned out to be Tori’s best friend. How the hell had I not recognized her? Maybe because you’ve never seen a picture of her before. The entire time I’d known Tori, she’d only referred to her best friend as Sophie. No last name. If she’d ever attempted to show me a photo, I couldn’t recall it. And believe me, if she had shown me a picture, I would have remembered because everything about Sophie was unforgettable.
Her smile.
Her laugh.
The way she smelled.
Those soft, pliable lips.
Christ, just thinking about her made me hard. I snagged a pillow from the bed and placed it over my lap, but the smirk on Shelby’s face told me that classic teenage move wasn’t fooling anyone.
“Give me a sec, and I’ll find the YouTube video of her and Gavin getting it on,” she continued talking as she typed. “I’m surprised you don’t remember it. It went viral, and every late-night talk show host ripped her apart for it. One of them even nicknamed her the ‘Reality Ho.’”
Damn. That was harsh. Just the thought of someone calling Sophie a ‘ho’ had me grinding my teeth. Wait a second. Gavin? That was the name she’d mentioned last night. Safe to assume it was the same guy. Despite the fact I’d been toasting his stupidity last night, I had no interest in watching the two of them fuck.
“Um, that’s a hard pass on the YouTube porn. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to grab another couple hours of sleep. I’ve got a long drive ahead of me.”
I crawled back in bed and waited for Shelby to take the hint and leave. Unfortunately, she had other plans, because the next thing I knew, she was shoving her iPad at me once more with a video already in progress. I didn’t have to look at the screen to know that was Tiny. I recognized her voice right away. Her voice I could handle, but the guy’s comments and the moans that subsequently following made my blood boil, and my response was to knock the tablet out of her hands.
“Get that shit out of my face!”
“Hey!” She bent to retrieve the device and came up scowling. “Thanks a lot, asshole. Now my screen is cracked.”
“I’ll buy you a new one,” I spoke through gritted teeth.
“Jesus, Wooby. What the hell has gotten into you?”
Frustrated, I threw back the covers and marched across the room. “Just do me a favor and leave. I’m not in any mood to deal with this shit right now.”
A look of confusion marred her face. “Deal with what? Where you goin’?”
“Driving back to PC this afternoon.”
“You promised Mama you’d stick around a few days. She’ll be hurt if you took right off.”
I turned my back on her and opened a dresser drawer. “Something came up.”
The next thing I knew, Shelby’s hand was on my arm as she wedged herself between me and the dresser. “Wooby? Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me the whole story?”
“Not much to tell.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’d still like to hear it,” she gently pried.
I ran a hand over my face and sighed a sigh that felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. “Oh, you know. Guy meets girl. They hit it off. Have a few drinks. Dance. Stage a fake wedding. Guy wakes up the next morning to an empty bed. Just your typical Saturday night.”
“Yeah, maybe for rock stars and big city actresses. Typical for the rest of us is a night of Netflix and Ben & Jerry’s,” she answered with a snort. Seconds passed before a soft smile turned up the corners of her normally sassy mouth. “You like her.”
The lie came easily. “Nuh-uh.”
“Uh huh,” Shelby countered.
I rolled my eyes like a petulant child and went back to packing my shit. “No, I don’t. I’m just pissed she left here wearing my favorite shirt.”
“Mm hmm. Keep telling yourself that.” She chuckled on her way to the door. Before leaving, she paused and leaned against the doorjamb. “You’re going to call her, right?”
I met her gaze and quietly shook my head. “Never caught her number. Don’t worry about it, Shelbo. It is what it is.”
“And what’s that?”
I answered honestly. “One hell of a memory.”
“That’s too bad. You two looked good together,” she replied quietly. “You’re sticking around. Right?”
“We’ll see.”
Her words hung in the air as I sank into the chair and pulled out my phone. Blue eyes stared back at me, and I couldn’t help laughing at the irony. Tiny was Tori’s best friend, which meant I could get her number if I wanted it. The question was, did I? And if I called, what exactly would I say?
CHAPTER 7
SOPHIE
“Sophie, where are you? Next time you get hitched, you might want to give your agent a heads up. I’ve been fielding calls all morning. Seems as though marriage has jump-started your career. Call me the second you get this message!”
Marriage? Ugh! Whatever possessed me to post that photo? Like it would really make a difference. Hell, I doubted Gavin even followed me on social media, so the likelihood of him ever seeing the damn photo was next to nothing. But it seemed as though someone had taken notice. I’d listened to Mitch’s voicemail three times during the ride from the airport to the house where Tori had texted we’d meet up. Calling him back would have to wait. As far as agents went, he was a great guy, but I needed time with my best friend before I could face the wrath of Mitch Livingston.
After waking up next to a man I’d met on
ly hours before and Mama’s unsettling news, I’d packed my bags and caught a plane to Panama City faster than you could say ‘Boo!’ It wasn’t so much that I regretted what had happened. I mean, getting drunk and sleeping with a hot stranger was probably right up there on a list of things most women fantasized about. But I hadn’t been that careless with my body, or emotions, since the disastrous ending of my relationship with Gavin. The sex was something I would get over in time. However, Mama’s news had been more disturbing. Maybe even unforgivable.
I had one foot on the ground, barely out of the cab, before I was swallowed up in a tangle of arms and long brown hair.
“I can’t believe you’re here! I’ve missed you so much!” Tori’s greeting was muffled by the massive amount of hair shared between us. She took a step back and smiled, squeezing both of my hands in hers. “Lookin’ good, Soph.”
I giggled and flattened my thumbs over her knuckles, holding her close. “You’re one to talk. You’re absolutely glowing.” I glanced over her shoulder and saw a familiar sexy musician leaning casually against the porch railing, observing our interaction with a smile. Nudging her shoulder with mine, I whispered, “Damn, Tori. He’s even better looking than I remembered. That explains why I haven’t heard from you.”
She cast a backward glance, and Dylan wiggled his fingers in a wave, making her giggle before she whipped her head around to face me. “I know. It’s not fair, right? But I will admit he’s awfully nice to wake up to.”
“Not to mention falling asleep next to and everything in between,” I finished for her. Cue more giggling. Yeah, we were totally acting like a couple of infatuated high schoolers.
The next thing I knew, Dylan was standing behind Tori, waiting for us to break apart.
“Got one of those hugs for me?” He smiled warmly and opened his arms wide enough for me to step into. Strong arms engulfed me, pressing my nose against his chest, and I couldn’t help noticing how good he smelled. “It’s great to officially meet you, Sophie. V’s told me so much about you that I feel I already know you.”
Stealing one last whiff, I stepped back and offered him my hand, which he graciously shook. “Nice to finally meet you, too, Dylan. Wait. Do I call you Dylan or Sin?” My gaze bounced between Dylan and Tori. They were both smiling.
He tucked his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Either works. I’m used to both.”
I shifted my gaze to Tori and cocked my head, curious. “You call him Sin, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” Her lips went flat as if she were trying to suppress another round of laughter.
“She does unless we’re having sex,” Dylan mumbled, and Tori’s cheeks flamed crimson. He tossed out another one of those sexy winks before bending to collect my suitcases. “I’ll just take these inside and leave you two to resume talking about me.”
Tori blew kisses after him. “Thank you, baby. Love you.”
“Yeah. Yeah. You can thank me later.”
I waited until he was inside before I spoke again. “Proper names during sex. Is that some sort of kinky sex thing?”
With a roll of her eyes, she gave my shoulder a shove. “God, Sophie! Get your own sex life and stop creeping on mine.”
“Oh! Oh! Oh! Says the girl who’s lived vicariously through mine for years.”
“Oh, shush. I’m afraid I’d need a month-long sex marathon if I wanted to catch up with you.” She laughed. I didn’t. She grabbed hold of my elbow and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound so bitchy.”
“It’s fine,” I waved her off, pretending the comment hadn’t bothered me. But it had. I knew Tori wasn’t intentionally trying to be hurtful, but the fact remained that I had spent the last six years treating sex as if it were a recreational sport, and during that time I’d never experienced a ‘real’ relationship—unless, of course, you counted the three months I’d spent with Gavin. I counted it, but I wasn’t so sure he’d looked at what we had as a ‘relationship.’
“I love that he calls you V. It’s like he’s too cool to say the rest of your name or doesn’t want to call you Tori like everyone else. Somehow, that’s badass and sweet all at the same time.”
She laughed and stole another glance at the front door. “Dylan marches to the beat of his own drum. He hates being like everyone else. He’s a bit of a dork, but he’s my dork, and I love his goofy ass.”
“What’s not to love?” I mumbled under my breath, but she must have heard because she shook her head and gave my arm a tug.
“Come on, goofball. Let’s go inside, and I’ll show you where you’ll be staying. I’m sorry there isn’t room in our apartment. I just figured you’d be more comfortable here than a hotel,” Tori explained while she walked. “After Blade gave the house to Dylan, we went through and gave all the rooms a new coat of paint, and I bought some new furniture. Gave it a little love.”
“Are you sure the guys won’t mind me crashing their bachelor pad?”
“Not at all. These guys are amazing,” she gushed. “J.T. and Styx are inside playing video games, which is where you’ll often find them when they aren’t rehearsing or performing. Hawk isn’t here at the moment. He went back to Mount Pleasant for a few days, but I think he mentioned something about coming back tomorrow.”
Remembering a conversation we’d shared on her birthday, I stopped just outside the front door. “Which one is the drummer?”
She eyed me skeptically before answering. “That would be Styx. Well, his name is Billy, but he swears everyone calls him Styx. Why?”
“I thought that’s who you said you wanted me to meet,” I reminded her.
A sly smile appeared on her face. “Indeed, I did. I didn’t realize you were open to dating musicians.”
“Never said I was. I was just curious, that’s all.” I sashayed past her and entered the house.
The house, though tastefully decorated, was nothing like I was used to. This house was definitely a bachelor pad, right down to the minimalist decor. Thanks to my father’s success, I’d grown up in luxury. I was an only child and had anything and everything I ever wanted. When I’d moved to New York, Daddy insisted on buying me a fully furnished apartment located within walking distance of campus. I’d spent the last four years living alone. The idea of shacking up with three guys, musicians no less, should have sent me running in the direction of the nearest hotel. But if I’d learned anything during my time on reality television, it had been that living with strangers, though trying, could also be a lot of fun.
For the record, this time around, I wouldn’t be screwing my roommates.
“Come on, I’ll show you to your room.” She led me up the stairs to a beautifully decorated room that offered me a spectacular view of the ocean. Leaving my suitcase by the door, I headed for the window and stood, transfixed, contemplating the events that had transpired in the past twenty-four hours. “I’m going to give you a few minutes to settle in, and then you’re going to tell me what’s going on.”
“I just have to make a quick call, and then I’m all yours.” I smiled and gave her another hug.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” Tori whispered in my ear, and all I could do was hug her harder. She had no idea how much I needed to be here right now.
Once Tori had left, I picked up the phone and made the dreaded call to Mitch.
“Sophie! Thank God you called. I was about to send out a search party. How’s the blushing bride?” His sarcasm did not go unnoticed.
“Awww, that’s so sweet of you to worry,” I answered with just as much sarcasm.
Mitch Livingston was, on most days, a sleazeball. Three years ago, I’d been desperate to find an agent, and Mitch had come highly recommended. During our first meeting, he’d boasted about his time in the industry and even went so far as to name-drop a few of the celebrities he represented. He’d made many promises about what he could do for my career, and being nineteen and naïve, I’d signed immediately. Over the years, he’d helped me land a few
auditions and introduced me to some high-profile celebrities, but outside of a three-episode deal on a daytime soap and my stint on Almost Famous, I had yet to see all his promises come to fruition.
“I get paid to worry. Listen, the paparazzi are ringing my phone off the hook. Seems you’re all they can talk about right now. Your announcement post already has over three hundred thousand likes! And it goes without saying that Hollywood has taken notice. This is the opening we’ve been waiting for. We’ve got to give them something. Who’s the mystery man, and where is he taking you on your honeymoon?”
Here’s where it got sticky. Yesterday had been a bad day, and it was safe to say that whiskey had clouded my ability to make rational decisions. Last night had been fun. For the first time in months, I’d felt light and carefree and… safe. In Jared’s arms, I’d forgotten all about the bad shit that had been weighing down my heart. We he’d proposed his harebrained idea, I’d given no thought to the backlash that post would create. And I’d certainly never expected my fake marriage to catch a Hollywood producer’s attention. I wanted to revel in the moment just a little longer, but I knew I had to come clean.
“Mitch, about the wedding—”
“Honestly, kid, I have no idea how you’ve managed to keep this guy a secret. I thought I knew everything about you. Cleary, I need to sharpen my investigative skills.” Mitch chuckled.
“It’s a sham. All of it,” I blurted out.
His laughter ceased, and the other end of the line went eerily silent.
“Mitch? Are you still there?”
“What do you mean, it was a sham? I don’t understand. Why would you go to the trouble of faking a marriage?”
I drew a deep breath, let it out, then proceeded to tell him everything. Surprisingly, I managed to tell the entire story without one interruption. When I finished, he still hadn’t said anything, but the tapping sound on the other end told me he was typing something on his computer. After a few torturous minutes, he finally broke his silence.
“You need to find this guy and then convince him to keep up the charade.” The way he said it made it seem as if locating him would be a simple task. If only that were true.