The Scene Stealer: A Hollywood Romance

by Renee Harless

  My agreement from the other day swirls in my gut and I spew it forth without a second thought. “I’m in a fake relationship with Elena. It’s just for publicity for the movie.”

  “Okay,” she whispers as if she understands the conundrum.

  My head jerks upward. “You’re okay with it?”

  She shakes her head, those strands of her beautiful blonde hair shimmering in the delicate afternoon sun. “We’re not together. You’re free to do what you want. I just want you while I can have you.”

  Her confession shouldn’t feel like a dagger digging into my chest, puncturing my lungs, but the torture festers within.

  “You’re mine, Larsen. I’m a selfish bastard.”

  And a possessive asshole.

  “Okay,” she agrees with an innocent smile.

  “I’m going to hurt you. Fuck, I already know I’m going to hurt you. But I can’t stop this even if I tried.”

  “You can’t break me more than I already am.”

  Yeah, I can. Those tiny shards will turn to dust at my hand.

  I want to tell her more, to say to her that she isn’t broken even though I know that a piece of her innocence was taken when she was left by her mother, but a ringing noise sounds near our heads.

  “Oh,” she cries out, shimmying out of my hold and reaching for her bag.

  Our moment is broken. I watch as she slips a sleek phone from her bag and begins typing out a message.

  “That a cell phone?” I ask, remembering she didn’t have one when we met, hence the phone tag and letters.

  “Yeah. Uncle Jeff kind of forced me to get one before I traveled here.”

  At the mention of her uncle, the dagger wedged deep inside my central cavity twists again.

  “Yeah? How is the old man?”

  “Good. Though, I think he liked having you around.”

  “Naw.”

  She walks over to grab her suitcase from the entrance hallway; her wrap dress left open, hanging around her shoulders like a robe swaying with each step.

  “I owe him. He. . .he somehow paid off my hospital bill. Money has been tight for so long I don’t know how he found a way to do it. Maybe you can help me figure out a way to pay him back.”

  Shit.

  “Larsen, I. . .” I begin and then realization dawns on her. She’s so intelligent I don’t know how she didn’t figure it out before.

  “You gave him the money,” she whispers, and I can’t tell if it’s in awe or anger, her face is stoic, giving nothing away.

  “I had to do something. You didn’t deserve that burden. No one does. And I have the means to make it right.

  “I tried to pay it directly to the hospital, but there were too many red flags. I called your uncle and he paid it on my behalf.

  “Please don’t be angry. Even if nothing had happened with us, you were, are, a friend. I would do it again. No question.”

  Her suitcase now forgotten, she slowly stalks toward where I sit on the edge of the bed. The approach is steady, but as she raises her hands to rest on my shoulders, I find them shaking. Instinctively I wrap my arms around her trim waist.

  “I never asked for your money or for anything regarding your career.”

  “I know. Maybe that’s why I didn’t hesitate to do it. You see me. Just like I see you,” I point out, referring to the woman that is more than the scars she possesses.

  Larsen kneels onto the bed, her legs bending on either side of my hips, bringing our bodies together. But the move isn’t sexual. Her arms wrap around my neck as she presses against me, tucking her face into my throat.

  Against my neck, she whimpers. “Thank you.”

  In return, I tighten my hold around her back and waist beneath her open dress, keeping her body firmly pressed alongside mine.

  We stay like this, our bodies tangled together until I feel the soft, steady breath of Larsen’s exhales against my neck. Slipping my arms from behind her dress, I softly run my fingers along the back of her head, combing the long strands with gentle ease.

  My other arm grips under her legs until I’m holding her and am able to place her length on the bed. I maneuver the covers aside with the hand that had been holding her head and then place her on her side. She instantly settles, but her face winces as we lose contact. Kicking off my shoes, I move to the other side of the bed and glide beneath the covers, my body facing toward Larsen’s back. As if subconsciously seeking me out, her body turns over to my direction. I reach out and tug her closer, fascinated as her distorted face calms at my touch. Even in her sleep, she finds peace with me.

  “Sleep, sweet angel.”

  An hour later, we wake together, her bright blinking eyes taking me in. It takes me a minute to realize that she’s not just a dream, but she’s here in the flesh.

  Extending my arm, I run the backside of my fingers along her cheek. “I still can’t believe you’re really here.”

  “I guess you have America’s sweetheart to thank for that.”

  “I suppose I do. But it’s strange since she was the one that was pushing the fake relationship for the film. It’s not something she’s ever done. At least to my knowledge.”

  Larsen’s hand stretches to meet mine and laces our fingers together.

  “Maybe she was hoping you’d turn it down? Getting a confirmation about me at the same time.”

  Ah, that makes sense. And I failed, miserably.

  “I can talk to her about ending things with Elena.”

  “Don’t, Devyn. If it’s going to help your career you should continue the charade. Besides, I’m going to be gone again tomorrow.”

  Damn, I hate that she’s right. And just thinking about her leaving tomorrow sets the brakes in my chest faster than the ones in the racecar I drove yesterday.

  “What time is your flight?”

  “Oh, well, I need to buy a ticket. I only got the one way here. I guess Quinn was hoping that I’d stay.”

  “Why can’t you? Stay, I mean.”

  The excitement of her staying with me the next week in Chicago and then traveling back to LA, having her in my home, is like taking a shot of liquid excitement. It burns and leaves me wanting more.

  “I can’t. My classes start again soon, the diner, store, and auto shop all need me, and we both know that I don’t belong here.”

  “You could. . .belong here with me. We can find a way.”

  Her mind drifts off as she stares at our hands and I crave to know what’s going on in her head.

  “So, what time is the game?” She shuts me down, changing the subject of us trying to figure things out.

  I reach into my pocket and grab my phone, opening the reminder Tessa sent this morning. “Two hours, so we probably want to get ready.”

  I let her slip away; each step she takes from me feels like another tether broken between us. She steps into the bathroom, and without a backward glance, she peels away her clothing, leaving her backside open for my viewing.

  Like a beautiful seductress Larsen peers over her shoulder at me, her lids heavy, cheeks a dusky pink. “Want to join me?” This brazen side of her is not one I’ve been able to witness before, but it’s as intoxicating as her innocent side.

  I’ve had to get dressed in a hurry, but I’ve never shed my clothing at this record speed. Opening the drawer in the nightstand, I praise the heavens for the complimentary protection and rush into the bathroom, lifting Larsen into my arms in my haste, and depositing us both into the shower.

  I’m not wasting one more minute of my time with her.

  We stand in the spray of cold water until it turns into a steamy heat, the warmth feeling like prickles along my chilled skin.

  Larsen slips around me and settles her head under the spray, her head tilted back and eyes closed as she soaks her hair. An overwhelming urge to take care of her washes over me faster than the water sleuthing down our bodies.

  “Here let me.” I hold open my palm with the dollop of shampoo I poured from the provided bottle. He
r eyes widen in surprise then she turns around giving me access to her mass of wet strands. I don’t miss the subtle smile on her lips before she turns.

  I massage her scalp as I lather her hair, doing the same with the conditioner after rinsing it clean. We take turns under the spray, my own hands pouring shampoo onto my head.

  Switching positions again, I place her back under the spray and bend forward to capture her pale pink nipple in my mouth, remembering how sweet her skin had tasted before. The flavor hasn’t changed but seems to be stronger.

  “Devyn,” she moans, my name echoing in the shower stall sounding like a musical interlude to my ears. Thoughts of what could potentially happen control my mind causing my cock to stand at full attention. Larsen’s tentative hand reaches down and grips the base of my erection, her slender fingers stroking the hardness.

  “Fuck,” I hiss as her thumb rubs over a sensitive part just on the underside of my head.

  “I want to feel you, Devyn.” I swear that is what I hear Larsen say, but I’m so delirious from her touch that I’m burning inside.

  Flipping our position like the sides of a quarter, I lay a punishing kiss on her lips before I turn her again to face the wall of the shower. My hands stroke down her hips as I position myself between her spread legs. My cock slides between her folds and the sensation is crushing.

  Something inside me registers, breaks me free from my trance, and I remember the condom I brought into the shower. Tearing the wrapper apart without a care, I slide the latex on my shaft, align our bodies again, and slide home.

  “Yes,” we cry out in unison.

  My body jerks back and forth, no effort in my movements this time. My motions are possessed by my uncontrollable desire for her.

  Her palms attempt to grip the wet tile, slipping in the process, and I have to reach my arm around her waist to keep her languid body from crashing against the hard surface. My other arm lifts one of her legs onto the ledge, repositioning our bodies. Her arm raises and wraps around my neck.

  The thrusts quicken and Larsen’s back arches against me just as my release spills into the condom.

  “I . . .wow.”

  “Yeah,” I reply. My cock only softens slightly, the shaft still hard and ready, but I know that time is running short. “We should probably clean up, again.”

  “I can’t move.”

  Chuckling I grab some body wash and squeeze a blob into my palms, rubbing my palms together to create a lather. “I’ll take care of you.”

  ~

  I’m not paying much attention to the game. Instead, my focus is on the woman off in the corner with my friend and one of the production assistants. The girls are laughing amongst themselves and Larsen seems to be enjoying their company as much as they are hers.

  When we finally emerged from the shower earlier, I was surprised to watch Larsen tug on a white and blue Baseball T-shirt and a pair of frayed denim shorts. She wasn’t hiding any part of herself, even though she knew there was a chance of them being spotted.

  “I like her,” Trevor says beside me as we stand along the railing in the studio box.

  “Yeah?” I ask, taking a swig from my bottle of water, not even wishing that it were a beer.

  “She’s a good fit for you. I mean, she’s gorgeous. No one can argue that, but she has depth too.”

  “You got all that from your minute introduction?” The cop takes a jab at my bicep in response to my comment.

  “Look, we both know how Hollywood goes, and how you can’t trust anyone as far as you can throw ‘em. Just like Quinn could trust me, you can trust that one. I have good instincts, you know.”

  Grabbing everyone’s attention, Elena strolls into the room, her help trailing behind. Unlike everyone else, she’s dressed to the nines in designer clothing, standing out amongst the crowd. She commands the attention, which is fine by me.

  Using the opportunity, I slap Trevor on the shoulder and thank him for the chat as he turns back to watch the game. My steps lead me to the women I had been eying earlier, one woman in particular.

  Quinn gives me a wink as she grabs the other female, leaving me alone with my conquest.

  “Want to see the game up close?” I whisper into her ear as I lean in.

  “Really?” Her eyes sparkle in excitement, reminding me of an Anime cartoon as they glisten under the overhead lighting.

  Reaching down, I grip her hand and lead her from the room. I can sense Tommy following us, but he’s not intrusive, so I barely notice. I grab two Cubs baseball hats, tucking one on my head with my sunglasses and then doing to the same to Larsen.

  Damn, she looks adorable in a hat.

  “Stay close,” I tell her as I take us down the stairwell, depositing us in the general stands.

  “Quinn reserved seats along the first base as well. Before we head down, do you want anything to eat or drink?”

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you. I can’t believe that I’m here at Wrigley Field. Did you know that it’s real ivy on the back wall?”

  “Researching on the internet again?” I ask as we take the steps downward.

  “I don’t like to go into anything blindly. Except for maybe you,” she adds, the words quiet among the screams of the stands.

  “What do you mean?” I ask as we slide down to our seats.

  “You crashed into my town. You were a complete surprise. I wasn’t prepared for you.”

  Reaching my arm around her shoulders, tugging her close, I whisper in her ear, “I wasn’t prepared for you either.”

  We’re in our own world during the game, the fans around us no more than white noise in the background. During the seventh inning, I start feeling melancholy about Larsen leaving tomorrow and by the way her hand never leaves mine I think she feels the same.

  The only flight we could find has her leaving the hotel at six in the morning, far sooner than either of us wants.

  We decide to leave the park early and grab a world-famous hot dog on our way out. Both of us seeking seclusion from our surroundings and craving the company of each other alone in the hotel room.

  Back at the hotel, as I slide between her open legs, I feel my emotions for her stronger than ever. And as we make love, her mouth open in rapture as I try to reach the deepest depths of her body, I feel a connection I’ve never experienced before. She makes me want to risk it all.

  We don’t sleep, each of us savoring our time together, wrapped in each other’s arms while lying in bed in the darkened room, the only illumination coming from the television playing an old black and white sitcom.

  Solemnly she packs her bag in the morning and I try my hardest to keep my emotions at bay.

  “Hey, now that you have your phone I can text you.”

  Her eyes perk up at my revelation and it’s the first time this morning that I’ve seen a smile cross her lips. “Yeah. Here.” She hands me her phone from her small purse to plug in my number as she steps into the bathroom to gather her few toiletries.

  Just as I finish adding in my personal contact information and Tessa’s, an old message pops up on the screen. I’m used to a different operating system so I try to close it out to no avail. Then I see that it’s a message from her uncle.

  Uncle Jeff: You got another letter. Gave it to Officer Tawny. Accountant says #s are in red again. Need to have meeting the moment you get back. Travel safe.

  “I think I’m all packed. I’ll just grab break-” she begins, but I cut her off by asking, “What letters?”

  Larsen’s face blanches until she’s as white as a ghost. If I were closer, I imagine that she would be transparent and I’d see the door through her skin.

  “What letters, Larsen?” I repeat as she moves to sit on the edge of the bed. “If you don’t tell me I’ll just call your uncle. I’d rather hear it from you.”

  “They’re nothing, Devyn. Just some stupid letters from one of your fans trying to scare me off. Officer Tawny says that the threats aren’t anything to be worried about.”

&nbs
p; “Threats? What kind of threats?”

  “It’s nothing, okay? Probably just one of your fans jealous that I got close to you.”

  Fear spikes through me so quickly I feel as if I’ve been struck by lightning, the zinging resonates through every inch of my skin.

  “I want to see them. When you get home, you send me pictures of them.”

  “Okay,” she acquiesces. I’m actually surprised that she agrees so easily.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Like I told you, they’re just stupid threats. There isn’t anything to worry about.”

  I can’t help my pacing. I’m moving back and forth in the same motion so much that I’m afraid I’m wearing a hole in the carpet. Running my hands through my hair, I explain, “I don’t like you living alone. Especially with this knowledge.”

  “I have a security system installed.”

  That makes me feel marginally better, but only slightly so.

  “You’ll tell me if you get anymore?”

  “Of course.”

  Standing in front of her, I hold out my hand and she places her own in my grasp. I tug her upward into my arms, relishing in the feel of her in my arms.

  Due to the filming schedule, I’m not able to travel with her to the airport. I begged the director, but he wasn’t budging. Instead, Tessa is riding with her.

  The room’s phone rings and I know that our time is up.

  “I’ll walk you downstairs,” I tell her as I release my embrace, walk over and grab the handle of her suitcase.

  “Hey, Devyn?”

  I look over at my angel just as she launches herself back into my arms.

  “I’m going to miss you,” she cries against my lips, our kiss hungry and desperate.

  I take as much as she can give. Once we leave this room, we leave our cocoon. We’ll be back in the real world, my fame the mechanism to tear us apart.

  “I’ll miss you too.”

  A knock on the door sounds and I know that it’s Tessa waiting for us. Our time is up. Together we ride the elevator in silence, my palm pressing against Larsen’s as our last resort for affection.