“Yeah.” Will loaded up a stick with marshmallows and held it over the fire, “I was supposed to be in one of her latest movies, but sucked so bad they had to take out almost all of my cameos.”
“You do suck as an actor,” Demetri agreed. “Unless Jay gives you no lines and then suddenly, poof, you can act.”
“What can I say?” Jay shrugged, “I’m a good director, I know my actors.”
“Those were good days, right? Touring? No sleep? All nighters.”
Everyone started groaning and I actually joined in.
“Honestly, it was fun, still is.” Zane wrapped an arm round Fallon, “When you have someone to keep you focused on the important things, but guys, I say this with absolute conviction, I think I’m turning into Will.”
Will gave him the finger.
“What?” Zane flipped him off right back. “I’m getting too old for this shit, I just want a nice cup of hot chocolate, five mallows, some reality TV, and an early bedtime, what’s so wrong with that?”
“Have fun with this one, Fallon.” Demetri made a face. “Maybe force him outside later this week so he at least gets some fresh air.”
“Her air’s better.” Zane kissed her neck.
Demetri gagged while I giggled.
“My hip hurts,” Alec blurted. “Like at least twice a day. I keep ignoring it.”
Nat elbowed him in the ribs. “Maybe stop jumping off stages.”
“I did that once last year!”
“And now he has a hip injury.” Demetri laughed. “Well that’s depressing. We’re barely approaching our mid-twenties, the only old guy here is the one not complaining.”
“Can we not call me old?” Will raised his hand, “I have what? Six years on you guys? Seven?”
“Ten.” Fallon grinned.
“We won’t count her, ruins the average” Zane put her hands down and kissed her.
“Says the twenty-two-year-old.” Will pulled his marshmallow back and pressed it between the graham crackers, placed a half of a candy bar on it and then handed it to me. “There you go.”
“Did you just feed Angelica Greene chocolate?” Demetri said in a surprised voice. “I tried it once, almost lost a testicle in the process. Fascinating, she lets you feed her…” He winked to show he was joking.
I took it, shoved half of it in my mouth, and then flipped him off with marshmallow sticking to half of my chin.
Demetri clapped his hands “See? Everyone happier when they… eat.”
“Food.” Zane coughed.
Will shifted next to me, then handed me another marshmallow and another. All in all over the course of an hour I’d eaten three and was ready to fall asleep on his shoulder.
Most of the girls looked sleepy and even the guys looked done, and it was only ten, but most of us had been up as early as 3 a.m. on set, so it was to be expected.
I yawned behind my hand then just gave up and laid my head in Will’s lap, I didn’t realize he was playing with my hair until he suddenly stopped.
“Let’s get home,” he said.
I nodded as he helped me to my feet.
“Make sure you feed her,” Zane said in a mocking tone. “Just in case she didn’t eat enough food…”
I could have sworn Will said something like, “If only she’d let me,” but I was too tired to care.
I CARRIED HER to her bedroom, she was slumped in my arms like she was in a sugar coma. As gently as I could I removed her shoes and tucked her under the covers as I’d done a million times before the breakup.
Before we broke.
She sighed and turned on her side, pieces of marshmallow stuck to her hair.
I grinned and slowly pulled them away.
“Night.” I kissed her forehead, only to have her hand shoot out and grab my right biceps, scaring the ever-loving shit out of me.
“Stay.” She pleaded in a sleepy voice. “Please, just stay.”
I gulped, licking my lips, turning and looking at the doorway I very well should walk through, the only escape before I made the choice that would change whatever we had been building between us.
Sink or swim.
Fight or flight.
The easy road, walking out of that room.
Ignoring the fast beating of my heart, the rhythm of my pulse as it sped up when her eyes blinked open like she was waiting for certain rejection.
I peeled my shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor.
She reached out and touched my stomach, her fingers tickled against the skin, I sucked in a breath.
Always her, it had always been her.
She inched her fingers, like she was counting each divot made my muscle, only to run her nails down my sides. “Either you take steroids or you’ve been taking all your anger out on the weight room.”
I leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Steroids.”
She sobered when my lips met her ear. I pulled back and waited for her to say something like, “Hey can we take this slow,” or “This is a really bad idea.” Hell, I knew it was a bad idea yet I couldn’t walk away, not again.
Not when the last time I saw her beneath the sheets, she was in someone else’s arms, not when the last time I saw her, she ignored me after we got in a public fight at a bar.
“You broke my heart too,” She said, lips trembling. “I think it may still be broken, just like yours.”
She didn’t ask if it was.
It was like she just knew.
“I’m still sad,” I confessed.
“I’m devastated.” She grabbed me by the hair and fused her mouth to mine, tugging me against her soft body, her cotton T-shirt that smelled like salt and the ocean. Like marshmallows and wet sand.
It was my new favorite smell.
And because of that, because of the feeling of her in my arms, again still with so much separating us, I returned her kiss, pressing her hands behind her head as I took control, she kicked off the sheets.
I reached for her shirt.
And stopped.
“This won’t fix us,” I whispered against her mouth.
“I know.” Tears filled her eyes. “I just wish I knew what would.”
I lay back down, heart pounding, and pulled her into my arms. “Sleep.”
“SOMEONE DIDN’T GET any food last night,” Zane said in a singsong voice as he strummed his damn guitar and wrote down a few lyrics.
We were on set waiting for our call times, and when I say we, I meant me. Zane just decided it would be fun to torture me while he wrote another hit song and made millions of dollars with no shirt on.
“Can we not talk about this?” I hissed, “Let’s talk about your tour, the last company did a shit job, we need to hit it bigger with—”
“I’m not going on tour,” Zane interrupted. “I just got done touring man, I want a break.”
“But—” I frowned. “You realize that you earned over twenty-eight mil on your last tour right?”
“What the hell do you think I need more money for?” He stopped strumming. “I write music because I love it, because I have to, because it’s my passion. You know this about me, it’s why you look so damn sad all the time. You quit because of her, you quit it all, and you lost yourself man, you lost your fucking music.” He dropped his guitar and walked off.
“He’s right.” Ang picked up the acoustic guitar and handed it to me, she was in her normal uniform of boyfriend jeans, a t-shirt and ball cap. “You just… quit life.”
“Because you were my life.” I said under my breath. “How much did you hear?”
She shrugged. “Enough to know that you’re about as messed up as I am.”
I smiled at that. “Yeah well, clearly I’m not perfect.”
“You think you ever were?” She eyed the guitar in my hands. “It looks good on you, Will.”
“What?”
“Music.”
“When did you grow up, Ang? And before you answer can I just say I’m pissed I missed the parts in between?”
I nearly broke the guitar over my own head. “Can we not talk about this?”
“Nope. I’m the grown up now, remember?”
I flinched at her words, refusing to look at her, afraid she’d see how angry I still was, how sad, how rejected.
“He was jealous of you,” she said simply. “He always felt like you betrayed everyone when you took time off to do a solo career, after your hit song went crazy and everyone wanted you, he felt left out, I think the reason he targeted me is because I felt the same way.”
I froze. “Targeted?”
“I was drunk, he’d gotten me drunk, when I snorted my first line of cocaine, I still did it, I still said yes. He said it would help me stay up late. He was right. And slowly, he wound me into his web of deceit. He told me…” She shook her head. “He told me there were other girls, that you didn’t really love me, didn’t care. And there were pictures.” She licked her lips. “I never thought you cheated, I just thought… why the hell would Will Sutherland want me, when he could have anyone? And when you got so busy, and he was there, with his lies, with his… easy smiles and free drugs. I fell. I made that choice. I still fell. And then our fights got worse and worse, and I was so guilty with all the lies I was telling you, I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror, let alone look at you anymore.”
“I begged you to stop.”
“By then I was too addicted to even consider it, and no matter how much you love someone, the drug will always win out, Will, especially when your supplier is your boyfriend’s best friend.”
“Ex-best friend,” I said with barely controlled rage.
“I just, I don’t want you walking around wondering anymore, last night…” She shook her head. “It felt so real. My dream.”
“What… dream?”
“The old Will Sutherland kissed me.” She smiled brightly. “It was a good dream.”
“What makes you think he’s gone?”
“Because I have eyes, and because your armor…” she leaned over and whispered, “Is back on… Grab the guitar, it’s not going to kill you, Will. It may just save your life.”
“Stop being so… old.” I strummed a few chords. And she sat next to me.
In silence.
Both of us.
But my heart felt a bit lighter.
Maybe because just like her words, my guitar was one more broken piece she’d given back.
Maybe there was hope after all.
“Play me a song, Will,” she said a few minutes later.
So I did.
And when she asked me to sing.
I didn’t hesitate, to show her that I was in there still, waiting, yearning, but scared as hell to try when I had everything to lose.
WELL I WENT all in.
Threw my cards in his face.
Admitted it all.
Except that I still wanted him.
Loved him.
Breathed him.
But at least… at least maybe, it would help us heal, move past this part of us that we were both trying so desperately to cling to, I was done clinging to the damaged burned pieces when all I wanted were to build new ones.
“Gem?” I was getting my hair put in a ponytail rather than my usual baseball cap.
“Yes honey?” She pulled tight enough for my scalp to rip right off my head near my ears.
“Do you think it’s possible to give someone a second chance, when they hurt you so much that it destroyed your life?”
She stopped tugging and looked at me through the mirror. “Nobody decides whether or not your life is destroyed but you. To let someone have that much power over you isn’t right. It isn’t healthy.”
“No, I mean—” I was frustrated just trying to explain what I meant.”—like they ruin your life.”
“Only person capable of ruining your life, is you.”
I frowned and leaned back in my chair, “But—”
“You can only control your own choices, not other peoples, so someone hurts you, you gonna lash out and do something to punish them back? That only hurts you. Ruins your own life by your own choices. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Were you a shrink in another life?” I rolled my eyes even though I was secretly impressed by her words.
“Yeah, something like that.” She finished up with my hair. “All done. Oh, and, I was going through wardrobe. Time for Will to change.”
Yeah, time for Will to change back into the one I fell in love with.
Because that was easy.
When you still loved him.
“Yeah, I’ll send him in.”
I saw Will a few hours later and tried to convince myself not to react to the way he smiled at me, the way he made my body feel by simply existing in the same atmosphere.
It didn’t help that for some insane reason wardrobe wanted him shirtless in nothing but leather pants.
What type of torture was this?
We were filming a club scene, and I wanted to die a bit inside.
I didn’t do clubs anymore.
Hell, did I even still know how to dance?
Everything about it made my stomach sick. Because it used to be my scene. My life had been all about being seen in places like this.
I couldn’t even look in the direction of the bathroom. It reminded me of the drugs; it reminded me of the parties, the sex, and lastly being on the front of so many magazines as the party girl in a downward spiral.
What a sad, sad Hollywood story.
I shuddered.
“Got your lines?” Jay asked.
I glared. “Got them, and is it necessary we make out while dancing?”
Jay cupped his ear. “What was that? Thank you Jaymeson? Was that what you just said? What? Did you forget how to kiss? Dance? Shake your ass, move your shoulders, you’ll be just fine, love.”
“Jaymeson.” I clenched my teeth. “He’s not wearing a shirt.” I pointed at Will who was still talking with Zane over in the corner, apparently they’d made up after their fight.
Jay glanced over at Will, “So?”
“So, he needs… clothing.” I gulped.
Jay’s eyebrows shot up. “Tell you what, I’ll give him a shirt the minute you nail this scene, don’t let me down, remember, you say your lines, the music starts, we’ll add it on for this scene so you get a good rhythm, and then cut it for the film, right?”
I gave him a jerky nod and took my spot near the dance floor, sipping what looked like a drink but was really sparkling water.
Before I knew what was happening the scene had slated, the main characters were doing their lines while I stayed glued to my spot, and when they moved past me, glaring like I was the enemy because duh, in the movie I kind of was.
I hung my head.
Shame washed over me.
It felt too real.
And when I looked up there was Will, across the room, leaning against the wall, looking absolutely lethal.
God had been so good, he was such… a man.
Strong in all the right places.
Confident.
He had his swagger back.
And I both loved and hated him for it. Story of my life where my love and hate for one man combusted until I wasn’t able to do anything but long after him.
He made his way through the dancing bodies and stopped when we were nearly head-to-head. Then wordlessly offered his hand.
I took it.
Completely forgetting the lines I was supposed to say as Halsey started pumping loudly through the room.
I’d always loved dancing.
At least dancing with Will.
Being in a boy band had its benefits, it helped white guys
who should by all means suck at dancing, learn to move their hips, which also transferred into the bedroom which I would most definitely not think about while his abs were staring me down like they wanted me to touch them.
I swallowed, my throat parched, as bodies started moving around us, moving to the slow melodic rhythm. Will didn’t move.
I was basically a statue.
As if I’d forgotten all about what I was supposed to do.
Grab the guy, dance with the guy, kiss the guy, get the hell out of this nightmare.
Except the guy wasn’t just any guy.
He was the guy who used to be my everything.
The one I couldn’t help but constantly give tiny little pieces to as if he knew what to do with the broken ones — as if he wasn’t still breaking them the minute I handed them over.
Will blinked, and then we were chest-to-chest. I took a much needed deep breath, my lips parting on instinct as his smooth hands moved to my shoulders and then ran down my arms causing chills to erupt all over my body, and then those same hands landed on my hips.
I swayed toward him.
His right hand slid from my hip down my ass.
My body jolted like he’d burned me.
How could a man look both so beautiful and so evil at the same time?
Sinner and saint.
Savior and killer.
My heart hammered, and then his hips rolled against mine, I hissed out a curse as our bodies collided.
And then maybe it was nature, or something else I didn’t want to think about, but our bodies moved in sync like they always had, like they always would.
Will could pass for a sexier version of James Dean with that hair, with that built body. I turned so my back was to him. It was too hard to do the scene looking at him, but he didn’t seem to mind, he just tugged me against him.
My butt collided with leather.
Hard. Leather.
I prayed for forgiveness for maybe the third time in my life as I greedily arched back against him, raising my right arm to hook it around his neck as our bodies ground together.
I forgot how good it felt.
To simply… exist within the air he breathed.
To dance without thoughts of anything past that moment.
I closed my eyes.
He cursed as my hips moved. His hands gripped them tightly, fingers digging into flesh forcing me back against him. I let out a little moan as his nimble fingers started dragging my dress up my thighs, leaving marks where his hands just were.
Steal (Seaside Pictures) Page 14