She nods.
“That’s all that matters then.” I throw my arms out to gesture to the kitchen. “You must have decent talent considering you’re able to afford a home like this at your age.”
“Money doesn’t equal talent.”
“Good point.”
“Do you not like me?”
The bluntness of her question surprises me. Shit. This isn’t the conversation I want to have with her.
“What do you mean?” I ask, playing dumb.
“You have this wall up, and it seems you’d rather be anywhere but here. I mean, I’m not expecting you to be my biggest fan, but it’s like I ruined your childhood Christmas or something.”
“You want me to be honest?”
“I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t.”
“I’m sure it comes as no surprise that I didn’t want to take this job.”
“Why? Because you think I’m a terrible person?”
“Never said that.”
She leans against the counter and crosses her arms. “Actions speak louder than words, homeboy.”
“I don’t know you.”
“Exactly, so you have no right to judge me so early.”
“But,” I stress. “I’ve heard stories.”
She snorts. “Didn’t think you were one of those dudes. Stories from where?”
“Not from my brother,” I rush out. I want to make that clear. Dallas has never said a bad word about Stella and has always kept her business private. “From magazines and shit.” And Cameron.
She rolls her eyes. “Magazines and shit? Those are some credible sources, let me tell ya.” She grins arrogantly. “It’s okay. You don’t have to like me. Not everyone has good taste.”
Damn. Maybe she does have some spark in her.
I love me a smartass woman.
“Trust me, I have good taste,” I correct. “And a good eye for character. So far, you haven’t done anything too diva-like, but we’ve only known each other for a few hours. No one shows their flaws and bad side this early.”
She stares at me blankly. “Does that mean you’re hiding your flaws from me? What do you have some demon hidden away in there? Are you a psychopath or one of those men who like to be dressed up in a diaper and changed as sexual foreplay?”
I can’t stop a smile from flashing over my lips.
Spunk, yeah, she has it.
“The last two are a huge ass negative.” Internal demons? Possibly. My stomach knots. “I’m sure you’ll find qualities I have that you don’t like. No one is perfect.”
This conversation is taking a huge turn from where I wanted it to go. My plan was to drink this so-called miraculous sleep tea, have limited conversation, and get my ass some sleep.
“Have you ever watched my show?” she asks.
“Can’t say I have. I tend to be an action more than teen witch fan.”
Maven asked me countless times to watch Stella’s show with her, but I was never interested. A hint of sadness stretches over Stella’s face, and she turns around when the teapot whistles through our tension. Grabbing two tea packets, she places them in the mugs before pouring in the water.
“So … why can’t you sleep,” is her next question.
I scrub a hand over my face. “It’s only my second night back in the States. It usually takes time to adjust to the different time zone.”
She hands me a pink mug. “Where were you stationed?”
“Afghanistan, both times.”
“Do you think you’ll go back?”
“I promised my family I wouldn’t, but I’m not sure now.” There’s nothing to stay here for now. The tea scorches the tip of my tongue when I take a drink. It’s too bland for my taste but not terrible.
She puckers her full lips and blows into her cup. “Why aren’t you sure?”
“Shit has changed. People changed. I changed. My situation is different than when I made that promise.”
“I say do whatever makes you happy.” She grins and holds up her cup when I yawn. “Told you it works.” She slides across the kitchen floor in her socks. “Good night, Hudson. Hopefully, you’ll like me tomorrow because we have a long day ahead of us.”
I turn around in my chair to look at her. “What do you mean?”
“We’re flying out in the morning to finish off the promotional tour. Didn’t Dallas tell you?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Must’ve slipped his mind.”
“Now you know. Get some rest.”
I give her a small smile. “Good night, Stella.”
I turn off the kitchen lights and take the tea with me to my room. Even though I feel myself growing drowsy, something is irritating me. I grab my laptop from its sleeve and open up iTunes. When I find her show, I buy every season and make it through the first two episodes before dozing off.
Five
Stella
“You ready to get this party started?” Willow asks when she strolls into my bedroom.
Her red hair is pulled back in two tight French braids, and she’s wearing a bright green maxi dress. Like me, Willow likes to travel comfortably.
I’m sitting on my bed in a similar dress, except mine is black, and double-checking I have my passport and everything I need for the trip.
“By the way,” Willow goes on. “I saw your hot bodyguard downstairs in the kitchen making coffee. Someone needs to pull the stick from his ass.”
I’m about to tell her about our conversation last night but stop myself. She’ll only try to push him between my legs more.
“He’s probably just tired,” I say, suddenly feeling the need to defend him. “He’s only been home a few days and is adjusting to the time difference.”
She grins and sits down across from me. “Dang, look at you Ms. Know It All. Did he tell you that?” Her face scrunches up when I nod. “I bet his girlfriend wasn’t happy about him leaving to come here after only being home a few days.”
“I think they broke up.”
“Did your new bestie disclose that as well?”
“No, but he said he promised his family he wouldn’t deploy again, but shit has changed now.”
“Hmm … it sounds like the both of you are in need releasing some tension. You know what helps with that?”
“A massage? Oreo cookies?”
“A massage to your clitoris. Oreo cookies licked off your body.”
I shove her arm. “Um, gross. You know I’d freak out if crumbs got in my bed.”
She sighs. “One of these days, I’m going to find you a good man.”
I sigh back more dramatically. “One of these days, I’m going to find you a good man, so you stay out of my love life.”
Willow has a boyfriend, and he’s not my biggest fan. Nor am I his. The guy is a loser, but she loves him, so all I can do is support her. That doesn’t mean I always hold myself back from throwing jabs about him now and then. She can do so much better than a man she’s caught cheating and sending dick pics to other women.
“If you don’t start dating, you’ll be eighty, wrinkly, and living alone with your sixty-something cats drinking whiskey and whining about how much men suck.”
“As long as there’s alcohol involved, it sounds like a promising future. Whiskey and pussies.”
She rolls her eyes, jumps off my bed, and slaps my leg to do the same. “Until then, we have a plane to catch. Your luggage was brought downstairs by Muscled Marine, so as soon as you’re ready, we can leave.”
“Muscled Marine? You need Jesus.”
“And you need some dick to get a better sense of humor.”
Hudson is still in the kitchen when we make it downstairs. He’s dressed this time, which makes me frown that I won’t be getting another view of his finely sculpted chest that runs down to washboard abs.
Even with my tea, I didn’t sleep well last night. I couldn’t stop thinking about him being downstairs. I mentally made a list of questions to ask him and thought of different ways to show him I’m not w
ho he thinks I am.
“Good morning, ladies,” he says when he notices us and holds up a cup. “Coffee?”
“Dear God, yes,” I say around a yawn. “Coffee before talkie.” Coffee is my liquid heroin. I’m a caffeine aficionado.
Hudson chuckles. His laugh is what I expected it to be: deep, like it’s coming from the pit of his stomach and forcing its way up his throat.
He pours me a cup and slides it across the island to me. “Coffee … because crack is bad for you.”
“I took the road less traveled … that led to Starbucks, and that’s made all the difference,” I reply with a smile.
He looks impressed at my comeback. “Want to hear a joke? Decaf.”
“Coffee, a liquid hug for your brain.”
Oh my god.
Are we flirting?
Are we having a moment?
Over coffee puns?
Are we really flirting in this ridiculously lame way?
Our eyes are locked, his dark gaze impaling mine, and his mouth curves into a bigger grin. If it takes coffee and a lame joke to get him to crack a smile, I’ll take it.
“I feel like I’m interrupting a moment,” Willow says. “A coffee flirting I don’t know what the hell is going on moment.” She gestures between Hudson and me. “That’s why I don’t drink that shit. It makes people all weird and fidgety.”
Hudson laughs while breaking eye contact with me. “It’s a non-coffee drinker thing, Willow. You think we’re crazy when it’s really you.”
And our moment has been shot down.
Thanks, best friend.
“Whatever,” Willow mutters. “We have a plane to catch. Ready to go?”
Hudson finishes his coffee, rinses out his cup, and places it in the dishwasher. “I’m ready for whatever I’m getting myself into.”
“I promise it’s nothing as crazy as jumping out of planes and all of that other dangerous shit you did with your last job,” Willow comments.
“I enjoy jumping out of planes. There’s nothing that compares to that rush,” Hudson fires back.
“No thank you on that,” I cut in. “If God wanted me to fly, he would’ve given me wings.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but we’re about to board a plane that flies,” he counters.
“Big difference.”
“Yeah, your choice isn’t nearly as fun.”
“Maybe I’ll have to try it sometime then.”
I’m totally lying. This girl is not going to be hanging out in the air solo anytime soon, but I do want him to change his mind about me, to see that I’m not some spoiled diva who only eats pink Starbursts and makes my assistant go through bags of them to pick out all the other colors. Although, I do wish that rumor was true. Pink is the best flavor. Unfortunately, Willow would quit in a second if I told her to do something like that.
That’s why my ex, Knox, and I connected so well. He knew this life and understood not to believe everything written in the headlines.
Real stories don’t sell. Scandals do. Relationship rumors do.
Willow shoves my side in excitement and is practically jumping up and down when Hudson leaves the kitchen to grab his bag.
“I love being right,” she squeals. “He totally has a thing for you. Fingers crossed he’s single.”
I give her a dirty look when she points to my vagina.
“I hope you waxed that kitty of yours.”
Six
Hudson
A guy falls down in the seat across from me and stretches out his hand. “What’s up, man? I’m Josh.”
He’s a built dude, a few inches shorter than me, and looks like he spends ample time at the gym. My money is on him being a boxer or a guy into MMA. His blonde hair is tightly combed back into a man-bun.
I lean forward to shake it. “Hudson.”
“You Stella’s new bodyguard?”
I nod.
“I’m Eli’s.”
Eli is Stella’s co-star and love interest in her new movie. Willow filled me in on the cast, the movie title, and what we’ll be doing on our drive to the airport.
“You have any tips for me?” I ask.
My brother’s advice was to watch out for assholes and to always have Stella’s back. She’s had a few scary run-ins where Dallas had to tackle people to the ground. One guy even tried sticking a camera up her skirt. Fucking creeps.
“It’s a decent gig if you don’t work for an asshole,” Josh says. “Eli isn’t bad, and from what I’ve seen so far, Stella seems to be cool.” He throws his arm out to gesture to the private plane we’re on. “Another perk is the traveling. There’s no way I’d be living life like this if it weren’t for my job,” he pauses as a smile passes over his face, “And let’s not forget about the ladies. It’s a pussy magnet. Women sleep with me hoping it’ll bring them closer to whatever dude I’m working for. Although it might not be as easy for you since you’re working for a chick.”
“Yeah, I don’t think women will be busting down doors to sleep with me thinking it might lead them into Stella’s panties, and I’m not one to judge, but I don’t bat for the other team.”
“We’ll be spending some time together, so if I have any extras, I’ll send them your way.”
Josh winks like his favor is equivalent to giving me a kidney or some shit.
My attention moves away from him when Willow moves past us in the aisle. She stops and turns around to look at us.
“Extras?” she repeats while giving Josh a cold glare. Her attention then moves to me. “Don’t let this idiot corrupt you, Hudson. He’s a bad influence.”
“Ignore her,” Josh argues. “Willow thinks I have cooties.”
Willow stares at him in a look that resembles disgust. “Correction, I believe you have the adult version of cooties: STDs.” She gives him a final snarl before leaving us and sitting by Stella in the row behind Josh.
Josh laughs, not realizing she’s making fun of him and not flirting. “I’ve been trying to hit that for a while now.”
“I take it you’re failing?” I ask. Of course, he is.
“She’s not giving it up, but I’ll break her down soon. I’m sure of it.”
“Good luck.”
Willow seems cool so far. Josh … not so much. I hope she doesn’t fall for his cheesy shit. I’d hate to have to hear him brag about it.
I pull out my phone and open up my Solitaire app. Sure, it feels good to have someone around that I can relate to, but there’s no way in hell Josh and I will be friends. My douchebag radar is firing off at full speed. Hanging out with this guy would be like a giant contraceptive to any decent female.
I’m standing on the sidelines of a red-carpet watching Willow situate Stella’s dress until it’s perfect. The black gown shows enough cleavage to make my dick stir but not so much that she might have a nip-slip if she makes the wrong move.
Willow explained my duties to me while Stella got ready for the show. My job is to stay by Stella’s side yet remain unseen.
Stella runs her hand down her glossy jet-black hair, and the diamond bracelet around her wrist glistens. She struts the red carpet in her high heels like a pro, and it takes only a second for her to get into her perfect pose. The flash of cameras going off at once hurts my eyes. They’re afraid to miss a shot of her.
Paparazzi are squashed up like sardines behind a red rope that blocks them from her, and there are other security guards placed in every direction. Josh stops at my side at the same time I get a view of Eli.
Eli reminds me of a frat-boy even though he’s in his late twenties. Right now, he’s sporting a cocky smile, his blond hair is gelled and combed to the side like a kid who stole his mom’s beauty products, and he’s wearing a black pinstriped suit that fits his skinny stature.
Josh slaps my back. “Let the madness begin, my friend.”
I only nod in response.
I watch Eli pose for a few pictures and hold my breath when he moves into Stella’s space. Stella’s lips curve
into a smile when he wraps his arm around her waist and drags her to his side. She tilts her hips toward him and rests her hand on his chest like a prom picture. The cameras go off like wildfire.
I cock my head to the side in confusion and scratch my cheek when Eli dips down and kisses her on the lips.
What am I missing here?
Stella and Eli barely exchanged three words on the flight. Eli sat next to Josh, and I tuned them out after they started arguing about what model was the most bangable on Instagram. Eli wasn’t in her hotel suite when she got ready, and nobody mentioned him staying there tonight. Maybe they’re in an open relationship type shit.
“Stella!” a woman screams when Eli grabs Stella’s hand and walks her down the carpet. “How long have you two been dating?”
Neither of them answers her question.
“Eli!” another person blurts out. “Do you think your romance will continue when you finish promoting the movie?”
Stella and Eli make puppy eyes at each other before Eli leads her to the crowd of people waiting. “Our relationship will stay strong long after it ends,” he responds before kissing Stella on the cheek. “I love her. She loves me, and that’s all you need to know. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a good ass movie to watch.”
I force a smile when Stella and Eli reach me, and Willow rushes over to us with an annoyed look on her face.
“I hope it was worth it,” she says to Stella, louder than I think she intended to.
“Don’t start with me right now,” Stella snaps.
“Whatever,” Willow says, rolling her eyes. She looks at me while we file into the theater. “We’re in the row behind the two love birds. I hope you have a thing for romance films.”
I chuckle. “They’re my favorite. Can’t live without them.”
“How’d I know you are a romantic at heart?”
“Definitely strikes me as the type,” Stella comments, looking back at us and winking.
Stella sits next to Eli, and I take the seat behind her.
I’m not a romance film dude.
I fucking swear it.
Just a Fling Page 3