Hollywood & Vine

by Olivia Evans

  Anders shook his head but couldn’t help but smirk. “I don’t know how to respond to the fish reference.”

  “You fucker. Come on, let’s get a drink.”

  Anders stuck to beer while Owen downed whatever was in front of him. He wanted to sit back and relax, but over and over his mind drifted to Josie, where she was and what she might be doing. Owen noticed.

  “What the fuck is going on with you?” Owen shouted over the music.

  “Me? Nothing. I’m just hanging out, man.”

  “Fuck you. What do I look like, Anders? You’ve acted strange ever since that makeup girl fucked with you.”

  “She’s a costume designer.” He knew immediately he’d messed up. His automatic response, his defensive tone, it spoke so much louder than his words.

  “I’ll be damned. She’s got you all messed up. I never thought I’d see the day. After what happened with―”

  “I don’t want to talk about that shit,” Anders interrupted, his mouth set in a hard line.

  Owen held his hands. “Sorry. But you know I’m right. What are you doing, Anders? You don’t let people fuck with your head. You need to end this shit.”

  “There’s nothing to end.” Even Anders could hear the lie in his voice. “Didn’t you hear? I’m in an off-screen romance with Aubrey Nash.” He pursed his lips and lifted his brow, his expression awash with sarcasm.

  Owen let out a low whistle and shook his head. “How the hell did they talk you into that?”

  “Money. They distracted me with money.”

  “Of course they did. Told you how great it’d be for sales, dangled promises of bigger bonuses in front of you... I know the drill.”

  Anders grinned when a girl approached the table and asked Owen for a picture. It was the perfect distraction. Twisting toward the railing, he watched the people below. A guy moved behind an unsuspecting girl and gripped her hips, pulling her against his chest. The girl’s friend nodded her approval of the faceless man. He wondered if Madison was doing the same thing with Josie.

  “Fuck.” He finished his beer and ordered another. His jaw ached from the tight set of his mouth, frustration bunching his shoulders and stiffening his spine. He felt like he was going to explode, that it was impossible to become more agitated or annoyed. He was wrong.

  The vibration of his phone caused him to jump. Not bothering to play it cool, he ripped it out of his pocket and unlocked the screen. His fist tightened when he read Josie’s text.

  I’m a little drunk.

  A dozen questions went through his mind, each one worse than the last. He didn’t know if she was testing him or making an excuse for something she’d done or was about to do.

  I’m sure there are plenty of guys more than willing to take care of you.

  As soon as he hit send, he wanted to punch himself in the face. He knew better than to taunt her. Without waiting for a response he fired off another text, hoping to stop her retaliation.

  It’s a good thing I’m the only asshole who gets to have that job.

  In the fifteen minutes it took her to respond, he considered driving to her house more than once. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t there. She’d eventually show up and he could deal with his fuckup in person. When she responded, he couldn’t help but laugh.

  Nice save asshole. Meet me at my house in an hour so I can put you to work.

  Anders’ laugh caused his demeanor to shift, and everyone, to his dismay, noticed. Girls approached their table, asking for pictures and autographs. He had more than a few offers for a blow job, but he deflected. Typically he would have been an asshole, but Josie’s text had loosened the tension in his shoulders.

  When a girl stumbled over and asked for a picture, he grimaced but nodded. What he wasn’t expecting was for her to fall in his lap and plant a kiss on his lips. She was drunk; Anders knew that, but it didn’t make him want to knock her on her ass any less.

  “Okay, that’s enough. Owen, I’m out. You good?”

  Owen’s eyes widened at Anders’ abrupt departure, but he didn’t comment. “Yeah, man. More for me.” He laughed, palming the girl’s ass in front of him.

  Anders smirked. “More for you. Later, man.”

  As Anders made his way across town, Holden led a very drunk Josie up her front porch steps. “Oops,” she laughed, grabbing the porch column next to her.

  “You would think by now you and Maddie would realize your limit.”

  Josie looked over her shoulder and giggled at Madison. She was slumped over in the passenger seat with her mouth hanging open. “Well, it looks like you’re going to have tons of fun.”

  Holden groaned and unlocked Josie’s door. “At least I don’t have to take care of you both tonight.” He moved to step back, nearly tripping over one of the ivy plants. “Why in the hell did you buy all these damn plants?”

  “I didn’t buy them. He did. He gave me all the ivy. It’s obnoxious, right? But that’s what he calls me. Ivy this and Ivy that. I feel like these damn vines. Just twisted, twisted, twisted.”

  “Josie, did you smoke pot? Because you’re acting like you did that time we got high.”

  “No. No pot. Wait, do you have some?”

  Holden sighed and shook his head. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yup. I’m purrrfect.”

  Holden lifted his brows in disbelief but said nothing. He’d check on her in the morning. “Okay, then. Good luck with that hangover.”

  Josie groaned and stumbled into her kitchen. Kicking off her shoes, she filled a glass of water and popped a couple of aspirin. She looked between the living room and bedroom before deciding to unlock the front door then change her clothes.

  Once in her bedroom, she managed to pull off her shirt and push her pants halfway down her legs before the room started spinning. Falling on the bed, she threw an arm over her eyes. All she needed was a couple of minutes and she could finish undressing.

  Anders checked his watch then knocked on Josie’s door again. He wasn’t early, but she wasn’t answering the door. Deciding to test the handle, his eyes widened when he realized it was unlocked. “Ivy?” When he didn’t get an answer, he stepped inside. Her purse was on the couch, but there was no sign of her.

  He walked farther into the room toward the hall, his eyes landing on a pair of shoes lying in the middle of the kitchen floor. Once he made it to her bedroom door, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Ivy.” He leaned against the doorframe and called her name again, only much louder.

  Josie startled and lifted her arm from her eyes. A slow smile spread across her face as she propped herself up on her elbows. “Anders Ellis, Mr. Big Shot movie star in my house.” She looked down at her legs and laughed before kicking them in the air. “And here I am, pant-less. Mostly.”

  Anders walked to the bed and grabbed the bottom of her pants, pulling them off. “You look like you could use a little help.”

  “Whatever. You just want to take off my pants.”

  Anders slipped off his shoes and fell on the bed beside her. “Of course I do. Was that ever really a question?” When she didn’t answer, he turned to face her. Her eyes were focused on the ceiling, the corners of her mouth turned down. He nudged her with his shoulder. “Hey.”

  Josie turned to face him, her eyes glazed from alcohol and the late hour. “No. No question about your motives. At least not in that respect.”

  It went against every instinct Anders had not to roll his eyes. Of course he wanted her naked. He hated how things had been the last couple of days since the whole Aubrey fiasco. Their constant push-pull was wearing him down, but it also kept him coming back for more. He wondered if that was the appeal and when the fight drained out of her, if that would that be the end of them. “Don’t start this shit tonight, Ivy. I’m here with you, no one else.”

  “Yeah, you are. I’m still waiting for you to tell me why that is. Because every time I ask, you deflect. You’re worse than a politician.”

  “I was class president
in high school.”

  Josie rolled her eyes and lifted her arms in the shape of a field goal post. “He shoots, he deflects, but he sure as hell isn’t going to score.”

  Anders chuckled and wrapped his arm around her waist. Tugging until she was on her side facing him, he looked into her eyes, his face serious. “Ivy. You know football?”

  “Ugh,” she groaned, trying to pull free.

  Anders tightened his grip, his chuckle turning into a full laugh. “Okay, okay. Stop before you hurt yourself.” He waited until she stopped squirming before he spoke again, and this time there were no playful undertones to his voice. “Ivy, I don’t have answers to the questions you’re asking. You’re stubborn and short-tempered. You disagree with me, even if you secretly agree, just to piss me off. You don’t believe a word I say, and you call me asshole more than you call me by my name, but for whatever reason, I like having you around. Maybe Madison is right and I am fucked up.”

  “If you’re trying to make me feel better, your failure is epic.”

  “I just insulted you about ten different times, didn’t I?”

  “More or less.”

  “See?” Anders sat up and pulled Josie with him. He grabbed her shoulders and gave her a light shake. “That’s my point exactly. We’re terrible. Who the fuck would put up with either of our bullshit? And here we sit, being complete assholes to each other, and neither one of us has made a move to leave.”

  “Well, technically this is my house, so I’m not going anywhere. I’m also pant-less.”

  Anders dropped his hands to her thighs and brushed his fingers over her skin. “Yeah, you are pant-less.”

  Josie snapped her fingers in his face. “Focus, asshole.” Anders grabbed her wrist and bit down on her fingers, causing a small grin to tug on the side of her mouth. “So to recap, we suck at being a couple.”

  “By whose standards?”

  “Normal people’s?”

  Anders thought about the girls he’d dated. He thought about Eva. “Fuck that. If what other people do is normal, I don’t want any part of it.” Regardless of the fact that he had little hope of him and Josie lasting, he’d learned one thing from being with her: he’d rather have whatever was between them than any of the other bullshit he dealt with. Maybe if he had more control over past relationships, things would have turned out differently for him.

  Josie covered her face with her hands. Anders was the most confusing man she ever met. He was nothing but a headache, nothing but secrets and half-truths. He was flawed and damaged. Every time she’d tried to push him out of her thoughts earlier that night, every time a guy had offered to buy her a drink or asked her to dance, he bulldozed his way to the forefront of her mind. Even in her head he was a pushy jerk.

  “So this is us?”

  “This is us.” Anders leaned forward and pressed his lips to Josie’s. He’d had enough talking for one night. He pushed her back on the bed and crawled over her, sliding his hands up her sides.

  “Stop.” Her plea was muffled, but her hands pressing against his chest were clear.

  “What? Why?”

  Josie’s eyes watered and her vision blurred as her throat tightened. “Because I’m going to be sick.”

  Anders’ face twisted with disgust as he rolled off her. “How much did you fucking drink?”

  “It’s not how much,” she choked, stumbling to her feet. “It’s what.” Bolting from the room, she made it to the toilet just before she lost the contents of her stomach.

  “I’m not holding your hair!” Anders yelled from the other room.

  Josie groaned and spit into the toilet. “Shut up, Anders!”

  His stomach rolled, but he wasn’t sure if it was from second-hand sickness or the fact that she sounded like she was in pain. “Who really wants someone to hold their hair while they puke anyway? You don’t want me to see that.” He coughed and moved to the bedroom door, needing more distance.

  “Just stop talking. Oh my God.” Josie moaned and felt around the countertop for a hair tie. Pulling her hair back, she pressed her palm against her forehead. “Just leave. It’s fine. You’re right, I don’t want you in here.”

  “What? No, I’m not leaving. I can―do you want some water? I’ll get you some water,” he called over his shoulder as he took off down the hall.

  “Christ,” Josie mumbled. She flushed the toilet and moved to the sink. Splashing water on her face and in her mouth, she glanced at the mirror and grimaced. She looked like shit.

  By the time Anders made it back with water and aspirin, she’d brushed her teeth and washed her face. He extended his arm tentatively, like he was unsure if it was safe to get too close.

  “Thanks.”

  “Are you done?” His eyes darted over her.

  “What are you, five? You act like I have cooties.”

  “I’m just not a fan of vomit. If you want a guy to hold your hair and rub your back while you lose your lunch, well, we have a whole new set of issues to deal with.”

  “Great. We should start a list of all the reasons we’re not compatible. It’ll make us look even more nuts.” Josie pushed passed him and flipped off the bathroom light.

  “Wait, you want that?” The shock and revulsion on Anders’ face when she glanced over her shoulder made her laugh.

  “No, Anders. You’re in the clear. No vomit duty for you.”

  She crawled into bed and looked at him as he stood in her doorway. “It’s late. You can…you want to stay?”

  Anders shifted his weight. It was four in the morning. He shouldn’t take the chance of getting caught, but he didn’t want to leave. “Yeah.” He pulled off his pants and crawled in bed beside her. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they were asleep within minutes.

  Morning came much sooner than Josie hoped. The pounding in her head and the light filtering through the window made her burrow under her blanket. Extending her arm, she frowned when she grasped cool sheets. She crawled out of bed, the smell of burnt coffee causing her face to twist with disgust as she slipped a shirt over her head.

  “Do I even want to know how you managed to burn coffee?” She walked into the kitchen and fell on a bar stool, watching Anders pour coffee into the sink.

  “I’d blame your coffee pot, but after the abuse I just inflicted on it, I think I’ll give it a break.”

  Josie chuckled, wincing as a stabbing pain shot through her temple. Anders leaned against the counter and shook his head. “A little hungover, I take it?”

  “Just a touch,” she snapped. She was in no mood to deal with being taunted. Just as she stood to get a drink, there was a knock at the front door. Both of their eyes widened in alarm. Anders backed toward the doorway of the kitchen as Josie smoothed her hair.

  “Josie! You awake?” Holden yelled through the front door, his voice muffled.

  Anders narrowed his eyes. “Who the fuck is that?”

  “It’s my brother,” she hissed. Her hands shook as she pulled in a deep breath before answering Holden. “Yeah, one second!” She walked to Anders and pushed him toward her bedroom.

  “Stay in here. I’ll get rid of him.”

  Anders’ brows pinched with confusion as he grabbed her arms to stop her from pushing him any farther. “You want me to hide? Why? He knows about us, doesn’t he?”

  “No. Maddie does, but not Holden. I haven’t told him anything.”

  “So tell him.” Anders didn’t understand why it pissed him off that she’d kept them a secret.

  “Oh, no. You’re not going to pull this shit with me right now, Anders. You want everything a fucking secret about us. You don’t get to change the rules because for once you’re the secret.” She pushed him into her bedroom as he stared at her with barely contained anger. She pursed her lips and moved to close the door. “Stings, doesn’t it?”

  She didn’t wait for an answer as she pulled the door shut. Anders fell on the bed and stared at the wall. He tried not to focus on the voices outside the door, but he couldn’t b
ecause she was right. It did sting. A feeling Anders hadn’t experienced in a long time bubbled to the surface as he waited. It fueled his growing agitation because for the first time in a very long time, Anders’ feelings were hurt.

  He tried to brush it off, blame it on lack of sleep, but the feeling persisted. Even when they fucked later that afternoon in her shower, he couldn’t make it stop. It was eating away at him, and as a result, he was more short-tempered than usual. When he left Sunday morning, things were better, but the underlying tension remained.

  The following morning when Anders stepped on the set, his demeanor hadn’t improved. He’d spent the majority of the night before trying to lock down the emotions swirling inside his head. He needed to stop letting her in, letting her actions affect him. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as he crossed the set. He could feel Aubrey tracking his every move. Normally, he wouldn’t think anything of it, people watched him all the time, but the way she studied him was different. It made his barely contained temper flare.

  “Cut!” the director yelled, his eyes pinched shut in frustration. “Anders, take five and get your head out of your ass. We’re shooting this one more time or I’m calling in Dean to read your lines.”

  Anders scoffed. “Bullshit. You and I both know that won’t happen. I’ll be back in an hour. You’ll get your shot then.”

  “I said five minutes.”

  Anders turned and smirked. “And I said an hour. You can wait or you can film utter shit. That’s up to you.”

  He turned and stalked across the set to his trailer, Aubrey hot on his heels. “You seem tense, Anders. You would think after your night of fun you’d be more relaxed.” The anger in her voice was hard to miss, and it only served to piss off Anders more.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’ve no doubt you have every intention of enlightening me.”

  “Ouch.” Aubrey flinched and stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. “You’re in a rotten mood. I can help with that, you know.”

  Anders sighed and fell into his chair. “I’m sure you could, but I’m going to have to take a rain check.”