Sophia shoots me a long, measured look. Despite the slurred words, she’s still calculating in her head.
“I’ll be right here.” I whisper it into Hallie’s ear, kissing her cheek as she flits away from me.
“Hey!” Sophia cries, clearing a space in the middle of a group of people. “We’re dancing here.”
The crowd parts and someone turns the music up, and Sophia slides her body around Hallie seductively. She crooks her finger at a couple of guys in the crowd, and they flock to her.
Sam appears at my shoulder, an extra drink in hand. He gives to me and I take it gratefully. It’s going to be a long night.
“Who’s that girl with Sophia? She’s totally hot.” Hallie’s standing in the middle of the circle, frowning at the music.
I hold up a finger in warning. “Hands off, dude.”
“Making a claim on all the pretty girls at the party, Jensen?”
“Just that one.” My phone’s buzzing. While I don’t want to let Hallie out of my sight, I figure that it’s probably Marcus and I have to tell him about the disastrous audition at some point. “Seriously, Sam. Hands off.”
He lifts his hands in mock surrender. “All right, man.”
“I’ll find you later, ok?” I take one last look at Hallie, who’s apparently still trying to figure out if she actually wants to dance or not.
“Yeah.”
I duck into the hallway before picking up the phone. Marcus is screaming on the other line and he’s pissed.
“Chris fucking Jensen! Always answering his fucking phone.”
“Marcus.”
“I would ask how it went, but I have Alan on the other line. Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”
“What are you talking about?”
“They want to get the deal done. Now.”
I’m still confused. “Marcus, what are you talking about? I’m at this party…”
“I’m talking about James fucking Ross, moron. They want you to be James fucking Ross. Alan called me a few hours ago, and we’re been trying to work through the details ever since. But a phone call from you would have been nice. You know, a nice little, ‘I fucking killed my audition’ and Alan’s about to call you with an eight-figure offer for the first three films. I got blindsided, man.”
What? I’m stunned into silence. I blew the audition. I don’t even know what he’s talking about.
Marcus cuts back in. “It’s a good thing, Jensen. Celebrate. Get some champagne. An outrageous hotel suite. Find a couple of girls to fuck. It’s what James Ross would do. I’m flying to New York tomorrow. I’ll need your pretty face to come to dinner to charm Alan into paying you a decent wage.”
I manage an incoherent grunt, and Marcus chuckles.
“Welcome to the big time.” Click.
James Ross. I stare back down at the phone for a long minute. This is what I want, I tell myself. I want to be James fucking Ross. I’m taking deep breaths in the hallway and I feel like a total maniac until I remember about the party and Hallie. She’s going to be thrilled.
The music’s pumping louder than before and there’s a crowd of people standing in a circle in the middle of the room. I’m hoping she’s standing at the fringes so that I can pull her away. And then I see her, and she’s certainly not standing in the fringes. Oh, shit.
She’s shimmying seductively and moving her body impossibly fast to the hip hop beat. There are other dancers around the edges of the crowd, but they’ve moved back to give her space to move. She’s perfectly in time with the music and the red dress rides up on her thighs. Sam’s probably the best dancer in the room, and he’s moved into the circle and offered her his hand. Jackass.
Envy takes over my body, but it’s almost worth it to see them together. He’s behind her and she’s moving low to the ground, and then he twirls her around and they’re moving together in perfect rhythm.
It’s obvious that they’ve both had a lot of training and they’re playing off each other like they’ve been dancing as a pair for years. Hallie’s movements are effortless and free as Sam dips her, his hand skimming the small of her back. Her cheeks are flushed with excitement and she’s practically shimmering with happiness as the song changes and her body moves to the new tempo.
Every pair of eyes in the room is glued to the pair of them. Even Sophia seems impressed. She moves out of the circle and comes to stand by me as Hallie and Sam continue their display. Sam twists dips her deeply again and she’s laughing and shaking her head at him, backing off and wagging a finger.
I’m never going to make it out of here alive.
I grab Sophia’s arm and she smirks at me.
“She’s good,” Sophia says. It’s a massive understatement.
“She is.”
“She’s also my friend that I brought here for me. Not for you.” Sophia’s pouting and all of the pretense from earlier has been dropped. She’s like a kid who’s been told that they can’t play with their new toy.
“I’m not sure if you even know what a friend is.” It’s our old game, insults and teasing and hurt. Lust used to be all mixed up in there, too. But I don’t want her anymore and the lack of interest on my part must be readily apparent, because she’s discovered it and changed her tactics.
“I’m not sure if you even know who she is.” Sophia nudges her head back to the dance floor, and I’m staring at her and Sam in the center of the circle. “She doesn’t look like a little innocent girl now, does she?”
“She never claimed to be innocent.”
“Ah, but didn’t you assume that she was?” Sophia’s smiling up at me. “Hallie, the perfect innocent schoolgirl. Every little boy’s wet dream, really.”
I hate to admit it, but Sophia’s right.
The captivating creature in the red dress is all too much like my usual fare and nothing like the Hallie I’ve come to know. This Hallie shows no signs of klutziness. She’s entirely self-assured, beautiful and laughing and practically floating around the dance floor. And then her eyes find me and she smiles and I feel the tiny knot of insecurity and doubt release.
“Leave her alone, Sophia. You’re dangerously close to showing everyone what a real bitch you can be. I like her. And I’m going to spend all the time I can with her. You should be glad that I’m taking her off your hands. Isn’t that what you wanted, anyways?”
Sophia curls her lips into a smirk. “Be careful, Christopher. You have a bad habit of falling for the wrong kind of girl.”
I’m glaring at her now and she’s just smiling up at me. “You should ask Hallie why she’s really in New York with me and not home with all of her…let’s say, friends.” The words are carefully chosen, but the music stops and there’s a moment of silence before the crowd erupts in cheers and both stop me from asking her what she means.
Hallie and Sam take a little bow and then she comes running over to me.
“Chris! Come dance with me.” She falls into the crook in my arm, even though Sam’s followed her like a little lost puppy. I shoot him a warning with my eyes.
“Hands off,” Sam says, still laughing. “But no promises, man. No promises.”
“Let’s get out of here,” I whisper in Hallie’s ear. “I have something to tell you.”
She nods eagerly at me. I give Sophia one last look, and she’s still smirking. I think back to the seductive girl on the dance floor and Sophia’s words and I try to reconcile that Hallie with the girl falling all over the ice and telling embarrassing stories.
And then Hallie smiles up at me again and I’m lost.
“I know everything that I need to,” I tell Sophia, grabbing Hallie around the waist and leading her away.
I turn to her. “Hopelessly uncoordinated, huh?” Sam’s still watching us with a smirk on his face. I flip him off and he just chuckles and shakes his head.
She gives me a little smile. “My mom was hoping that ten years of classes would turn me into a ballerina. I’m still hopelessly uncoordinated, but after a few drinks
, I think muscle memory just takes over. I guess the shots weren’t such a bad idea after all. But I am a very good dance teacher. I promise.” She’s peering at the dance floor wistfully, but I pull her towards the door instead.
“We can dance later. Let’s get out of here.”
***
“Wow.” Hallie takes a long look at the skyline from Sam’s roof. She’s shivering, so I place my jacket over her shoulders and pour the bottle of champagne that I grabbed from Sam’s counter into two red plastic cups. “You were right. The view is insane.”
“You’re right. It is insane.” I kiss her then, long and slow, and her body falls into mine. It almost makes me forget what I have to tell her. “They didn’t hate me.”
“What?” Her eyes are glazed with happiness and alcohol.
“The director. The producers. They didn’t hate me.”
“What?” It’s a scream and she’s holding my face in her hands and then she releases it and she’s dancing all around me. “I know. They gave you the part of Boudreaux. It was the accent. I knew it was the accent.”
And we’re both laughing then.
“Chris, you’re going to be James fucking Ross.” She’s shouting from the rooftop, and grinning at me.
“I don’t think I’m ready for it.” It’s an honest statement. I’m not ready for it.
“You were born ready for it.” She’s certain.
“I don’t even know if I’m going to take it. I was thinking about alternatives. Going back to school. I hear Greenview provides an excellent education.”
She laughs, but she’s suddenly serious again. “Come on, Chris. Stop. You have to take it.”
“Maybe.”
“Remember what you said about acting? It’s the only place that you feel comfortable inside your own skin? Even if you think sometimes it makes you feel like you aren’t yourself.”
Jesus, even drunk, she has a memory like an elephant. “Yeah.”
“You don’t just let that go. You are James Ross. No one else could play the part.”
“There are other things that I don’t want to let go.”
Chapter 17
HALLIE
We’re swaying together, dancing without music on the rooftop. My head is fuzzy from all of the champagne and I’m perfectly happy again. I could definitely get used to this. To him.
That thought scares me, because I know that it’s all going to disappear. In a matter of weeks, if not sooner. I know that Marcus is on his way to New York now, and he’ll snatch Chris away for press appearances and then the cameras will start showing up and he’ll be off on a set somewhere and I really won’t ever see him again. Of course I had known that they were going to give him the part. He is the part. He still seems unsure, but I know that the doubts will subside as soon as he steps onto that set.
I could stay on the roof all night, but I’m unsteady on my feet and my fingers are starting to freeze.
“Come on,” he says, offering me his hand. “Let’s go.”
He gives the cab driver an address that I faintly recognize, but it’s not Sophia’s. My hands are everywhere, all over him, on his chest and his arms and running up and down his legs. He shoots me a warning look.
“You’re drunk. If you think I’m going to take advantage of you now, you are absolutely crazy.”
I am a little drunk. The champagne and the dancing did me in. His eyes are heavy with desire and I hold out hope for being taken advantage of. As we pull in front of the opulent building, I look up in surprise. “This is your apartment.”
“I was hoping to avoid it for another day or two, but there’s no way I’m giving you back to Sophia. She probably has jello shots planned at the very least.” He swoops me out of the cab and picks me up.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He grins at me, kissing the tip of my nose. “I remembered that you didn’t do well with marble.”
He’s still carrying me when we get inside the elevator, when I finally manage to wiggle out of his arms as he inserts a key into a slot in the panel. The ride seems to take forever, even longer than the one in Sophia’s building. When the doors slide open, I find myself in the middle of a living room that’s bigger than my entire house in Ohio. There’s no hallway, and I realize immediately that we’re in the penthouse, which apparently takes up the entire floor.
There are floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a view out and over the city on two sides of the sunken living room, and enormous modern paintings cover the other walls. The furniture is stiff-looking and expensive and it’s obvious that a team of designers has placed every piece of art, every bit of furniture, to create a dramatic impact. It’s the most incredible apartment that I’ve ever seen.
“I can see why you were embarrassed to show me your apartment,” I say. “What a dump.”
He looks at me sheepishly. “I hate this fucking place.”
His words don’t detract from the fact that the apartment is incredible. But I can tell that just being in the room is making him uncomfortable, so I slide my hand into his and he takes it gratefully. “Lead the way, kind sir.”
He pulls me down a twisting hallway to the last room and closes the door behind us, tossing me a t-shirt and a pair of boxers from a box in the corner. He murmurs, “I’m going to call Marcus really quick. If you’re not asleep by the time I get back, I’m not making any promises about keeping up any gentlemanly behavior.”
“That’s kind of what I was hoping for.”
“You are really going to regret that statement.” He runs his fingers shakily through his hair. “And that dress.”
I cluck my tongue as he leaves the room. The room is huge, but other than an enormous four-poster bed and some assorted pieces of furniture, like an overstuffed chair in the corner by the windows, it’s empty. It seems more like a guest room than someone’s personal space, and I remember the sad look in his eye when he spoke about his father. I know that this isn’t home for him, that there had never been a home here for him, except for maybe when he was a kid.
I’m lost in thought for a few minutes (the champagne is still bubbling in my throat) when I remember his directive. I’m peeling off the red dress and grabbing for the t-shirt when the door opens.
He’s still on the phone but he doesn’t seem to see me standing by the windows, half-naked. He’s so handsome, talking feverishly about something, and I stop moving to stare at him. The red dress, unzipped, falls off one of my shoulders and I push it back impatiently.
“Yeah, I’ll be there. What…” He’s turned and he stops talking.
He takes a deep breath and murmurs, “Fine,” before hanging up the phone and staring at me with naked hunger.
He crosses the room in long strides and I’m leaping into him, covering his face and neck with kisses. Before I know it, he’s sliding the red dress over my shoulder, kissing my collarbone and running his hands over my skin. The phone, still in his hand, clatters to the floor.
“Hallie, I…”
I don’t want to talk anymore, so I shrug the dress of my shoulder and he groans, pulling it further down and kissing my neck, my chest. I’m reaching for the bottom of his shirt and I pull it over his head to reveal the golden, perfectly toned chest. Each of his muscles stands out in sharp relief and I send a series of quick, feathery kisses down his body.
“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” he manages to gasp out, but he’s unhooking my bra at the same time and his hands are cupping my bare breasts.
We’re locked into each other, and the feel of his hands on my bare skin makes me brave.
“I want you.” I feel beautiful and sexy and free and uninhibited by the trappings of reality, because this is a fantasy world. I know that there’s no escape without total and complete heartbreak, but I’m all in anyways.
I’m yanking at his jeans and my mouth moves lower and lower on his chest. He pulls me to my feet impatiently and our kisses are rough and filled with need.
He whispers somethi
ng and I can’t hear him, so I look at him, questioning. Did I completely lose my mind? What was I thinking? I wasn’t seductive or beautiful and he doesn’t want me after all.
The alcohol buzz is wearing off, and I try to turn away, to cover myself with the clothes, to get out of here, to run. He must see something in my face because he grabs my chin and kisses me until I’m dizzy.
“I give up.” He picks me up and carries me to the bed and my legs are wrapped around his chest and we’re drowning in each other.
He lays me on the bed and looks at me for a long moment. I try to sit up, to grab at him, but he’s gazing at my body and although I’ve forgotten to be embarrassed, I’m suddenly very aware that I am totally naked and that all my flaws, the scars on my lower abdomen and on my leg, are visible.
He kisses each one. “This one?” he asks.
“Appendix.” It’s true.
“It’s a sexy scar,” he says, lingering over it. “And this one?” He’s touching the half-moon shape on my calf, which has faded over the years to nothing more than a stretching of skin. I shudder involuntarily, but he doesn’t notice it, or the face that my voice is strangled.
“I don’t remember.” It’s true and not true. He doesn’t question. I’m holding my breath and there are flashes of another pair of hands on my body, other eyes on mine, and I’m shaking a little and pulling myself back from him and trying to breathe evenly.
An old, sad story, I remind myself, trying to pull myself back into the moment. I run my fingers through his arm, trying to concentrate on him. This is what you want, Hallie. This is what you want.
He’s kissing my leg, all the way inside my thigh.
“Stop,” I moan. I don’t mean it. I want him to keep kissing me, to make me forget. He mistakes my intention and starts to pull away.
“You’ve come to your senses. Finally.”
I haven’t. I take the opportunity to push him down beneath me. I’m straddling him and kissing his chest, the little hollow in his neck.
He groans and flips me back onto the bed. “Cheater.”
“I’m willing to take any advantage I can get.”
Falling into You Page 15