Steal Page 6

  “Where the hell have you been?” His cold eyes took in my wet jeans and equally wet shirt before he blew out a curse and held the door open wider for me to step inside.

  “I’m going to take a shower.” I squished past him, my flip-flops making embarrassing squishing noises against the hard wood.

  “I asked you a question.” His voice was calm, but I knew the truth, he was pissed, he was angry, and maybe if what Demetri said was true — he was worried.

  “On the beach.” I sighed. “Thinking.”

  “Okay.” He exhaled. “Okay.”

  I stopped walking.

  Pain overtook the anger that had earlier been boiling up inside, it even replaced the sadness.

  “Don’t.” I shook my head then turned around, my gaze locking on his chocolate brown eyes. “Don’t ever touch me like that again.”

  His face fell. “Ang—”

  “Promise me!”

  He hung his head. “I promise.”

  “Good.”

  “Is it?” He crossed his arms.

  “I’m taking a shower.”

  “You already said that.”

  “Will, for one night could you just…” I closed my eyes I couldn’t look at him, didn’t want to see the anger I was so used to seeing when we talked. “Be someone other than my agent?”

  “Like what?”

  My feet took me to the bathroom, I needed the space between us, the certainty that he wouldn’t reach for me again, that I wouldn’t let my weakness take over if he tried to kiss me. “A friend.”

  “We’ve never been friends.” He said in a low voice that had my entire body on high alert even when I hated myself for it.

  “Well,” I grabbed the bathroom doorknob and twisted. “There’s a first time for everything.”

  I shut the door behind me and leaned against it.

  Breathing ragged.

  Chest heavy.

  We were two days in on a ninety-day shoot.

  And already at each other’s throats. Confused. Angry.

  For once in my life I had no plan of action.

  And rather than feel good — I felt even more lost.

  Because I’d just done something so stupid I wanted to go back in time and ask for a re-do.

  I’d just asked the only man I’d ever loved if we could be friends, as if I could actually handle it emotionally.

  And he hadn’t said no.

  I slid to the cold tile floor and rested my head against my knees again.

  It would be a miracle if I could survive him again.

  I WAS LOUNGING on the couch when my phone started vibrating against the coffee table like it was possessed. I was almost afraid to look and when I did, my irritation only grew.

  Demetri: You suck as a human being.

  I glanced at the screen and rolled my eyes.

  Zane: Did you really kiss her for the press? What insane mean-spirited Oregon tree-hugging lunatic possessed your body and took over? #getbehindmesatan

  Another text popped up.

  Alec: Today my daughter was constipated, I showed her your picture, she shit all over it. Thanks man…

  Yeah, message received loud and clear, I was just about to chuck my phone against the wall when another message popped up.

  Jay: We actually put you in a group messenger now so that we can all join in your shame, I added the girls, you’re welcome. So, gang, let’s talk this through. What exactly did Will do wrong today?

  Alyssa: Raises hand

  Jay: Alyssa, yes you may have the group texting floor.

  Hell, I needed new friends. Ones that actually knew what it was like to have boundaries, personal space. What the hell had I been thinking taking all of them on as clients? Oh right, I wasn’t. Zane just managed to get me drunk enough to do it and since I had free time and was already in Seaside why not manage the whole crew? Their wild days were behind them!

  It was a solid plan.

  Until I realized my error.

  They were meddlers.

  Every freaking one of them.

  Alyssa: He treated her like crap and then treated her like crap again, he constantly makes her feel small like the tiny baby turtle trying freakishly hard to make it to the ocean, and BAM gets snatched up by a seagull.

  Demetri: You’re the seagull, Will.

  I finally responded.

  Me: Caught that, thanks.

  Nat: Oh good, you aren’t asleep!

  And to think, Alec’s wife had seemed so nice and now she was meddling like the rest of them.

  I suddenly had this horrible vision of being onscreen with all these texting bubbles floating around my head. I mentally imagined myself slapping each of them away only to have my phone vibrate again.

  Me: FML

  Jay: Good job, Alyssa and yes you’re correct, any other observations?

  Dani: Other than him being a jackass, hi Will!

  I refused to respond. Even though my phone wouldn’t shut the hell up, it was useless. I looked down and winced as Lincoln’s name popped up on the screen.

  Lincoln: Can I just say something?

  Jay: Yes, let’s hear from the brother.

  I stopped breathing, just waiting for him to yell at me, curse me to Hell, or basically threaten to drown me in the ocean. Whatever he was typing was taking forever, making me nervous as shit.

  The shower shut off in the bathroom.

  A door opened.

  I eyed my phone wearily.

  Lincoln: You. Are. A. Giant. Huge. Ass. Hole. Sorry it had to be said, and if you ever use her in that way again, even if it’s for her own good, I’m calling up Zane’s “mafia” cousin and ordering a hit on your pathetic body! Got it?

  Zane: Stop putting fake quotes around mafia, I told you, it’s true! They live in Chicago, oh and, agreed with Linc, sorry man, but he’s right. You messed up big.

  Pris started typing.

  Oh good, I was wondering when I’d get the pleasure of hearing from her too. I rolled my eyes and waited.

  Pris: Everyone deserves a second chance, Will. Everyone.

  Nobody texted after that.

  Instead, I was left staring at my phone and wondering what I did to deserve such good albeit nosy friends. Finally, with shaking hands, I responded.

  Me: She wants me to be her friend.

  Jay: Do you even know what that word means with a girl?

  Leave it to him to bring up my own shady past of dating whatever groupie was with us for the week only to leave once we hit the next city. It was the lifestyle at the time — until Angelica.

  Me: Of course I do.

  Demetri: Friendship i.e.: the art of spending time with someone without licking any part of them, just so nobody else gets there first. See also: Sharing isn’t caring.

  I laughed while emojis erupted all over my screen from middle fingers to unicorns, a penguin, hearts, and smiley faces.

  “Something funny?”

  How long had Angelica been standing in front of me, hands on hips, white tank falling off her right shoulder and tiny black shorts pasted to her tan thighs.

  I quickly set my phone on the table. “Just Demetri giving me shit.”

  She looked away. “He’s a good one.”

  “Wow.” My eyebrows shot up, “Have you two made peace already?”

  “He’s running now,” she blurted, and then a smile crossed her features. “He fed a bird today too.”

  “Demetri Daniels?” I asked with a healthy dose of skepticism. “I’ll believe it when I see it, last year I thought the guy was going to shit himself when a flock of doves flew over his head. Freaking doves and the guy crashed to the ground and started yelling.”

  Angelica grinned.

  Her smile sobered me completely because it had me wishing for that ease we used to have between each other.

  “So…” I stood and made my way into the kitchen, “You must be hungry.”

  Angelica reached for the remote and flipped on the TV, “Yeah, but I can just make a san
dwich or something.”

  “You hate sandwiches.” I was already pulling out a frozen lasagna, it wasn’t the best, but it was better than a cold sandwhich. “And last time you tried to make one you left the paper on the cheese.”

  She glared over at me. “It was my first time!”

  “Yeah, you were eighteen, no excuses.”

  With a huff she walked over to me and leaned against the counter, and pointed the remote at the lasagna. “What’s that?”

  “Food.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I know it’s food, what kind of food.”

  “Read the box.”

  She scowled, “Why can’t you just make things easy?”

  “Because you always liked it when I made things hard,” I said truthfully.

  She sucked in a breath and then started picking at her thumb. “Because everyone always did stuff for me, I liked the challenge…”

  “Still do?”

  She hesitated, then grabbed the box, “It says to vent two corners and put it on a cookie sheet.”

  “Done.”

  “Did you pre-heat the oven first?”

  “I’m a pro.” I winked. “Hope you don’t mind all the carbs.” I remembered days where she ate nothing but water and protein shakes to stay thin.

  With a shrug, she tossed the box in the trash and rounded the corner island. “Do I look like I care about carbs anymore?”

  “No.” The word slipped past as I took in her curves. “And I mean that as a compliment.” I reached out to touch the rounded edge of her hip then thought better of it. “You look good. Healthy.”

  “Healthy like a horse?” she baited, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline.

  “Yeah, but a really shiny one.” I said with amusement. “With pretty hair.”

  “And teeth?”

  “Of course,” I agreed then cleared my throat as an awkward silence descended between us. Somehow I was only a foot from her body. I could feel her heat, taste her in the air. “I’ll let you know when it’s done.” I knew I was dismissing her but there was only so much I could take without actually taking.

  Her smile fell. She might as well have punched me in the gut. I didn’t realize how much I missed her smile until it was suddenly gone — until it was my fault it had left in the first place.

  “Okay…” She tucked her hair behind her ear and left the kitchen.

  I leaned against the bar and hung my head.

  It was going to be fine. Now that I could breathe air without her in it, I could focus, focus on feeding us, and going to bed.

  Separate beds.

  The doorbell rang.

  A door swung open.

  Shouting voices were heard all throughout the beach house.

  And then Zane Andrews in all his shirtless glory was standing in my kitchen with two bags of marshmallows and enough chips to feed a small country. “We decided to crash the party.”

  “We?” I felt a headache coming on.

  He grinned triumphantly. “All of us.” He tossed a bag at my head. “Because when friends are complete jackasses, it’s the other friends’ duty to help!”

  “I didn’t ask for help,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “Aw, friend…” He slugged me in the shoulder. “You didn’t need to. I heard you loud and clear the minute I heard about the kiss… Even saw your tongue, nothing I ever care to see again by the way. Hey, did you hear about Demetri’s pet bird?”

  “I do not have a pet bird!” Demetri roared, stomping into the kitchen, “Stop spreading shit about me! I fed it once! And now it’s all over twitter!”

  “The hash tag’s #Demetristweety,” Zane burst out laughing, “It’s trending.”

  “How the hell did that even happen?” I reached for my phone in my back pocket then realized it was out in the living room. Where was his publicist, Niall? He was paid to keep shit from exploding like that.

  Demetri pointed at Zane. “He made it happen. Have I mentioned how much I hate when this guy’s not touring? Too much damn free time.”

  Zane flipped him off. “Don’t hate on the guy who sold out Madison Square Garden.”

  “Because of us!” Demetri threw his hands in the air. “Wait.” He reached for Zane’s phone. “What are you doing?”

  “Tweeting.” Zane took off running. Demetri followed.

  “Children,” I muttered under my breath. “It’s like having children.”

  Alec’s deep voice had me nearly stumbling into the sink. “Yeah well, I say actors are way harder to deal with than musicians.” He held out his hand. I shook it. “At least you don’t have to potty train them.”

  “Hah, the stories I could tell.” I sighed. “Is everyone really here?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Alec bobbed his dark head, “And tonight’s date night so… things might get a bit crazy, the grandparents are watching Ella.”

  “Crazy as in?”

  “Let’s just say… this might be the first party shut down in history — that has no alcohol.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  IT WAS ABSOLUTE mayhem.

  Zane was running around shirtless while Demetri chased him through the house, Alec and Nat were making out on the balcony, where I’m assuming they thought they were hidden, clothes were coming off faster than I could blink.

  My own brother was in the corner with Dani while Jay and Pris talked loudly about safe sex.

  And I was in the middle of it all, grinning, trying to keep track of all of the different conversations, the yelling, the buzz of being around people — nice people.

  I had never fit in.

  Not with anyone.

  And it’s not like I suddenly did.

  But, for the first time, I wasn’t sticking out, I was just… part of the gang. And it actually felt really good.

  Better than I could have ever imagined.

  Even though I was tired.

  And dreaming about my pillow.

  “Question,” Lincoln pried himself away from Dani and pointed down the hall. “Why doesn’t this room have a door?”

  I felt myself tense. “That’s a fantastic question, you should ask Will.”

  Lincoln crossed his arms.

  I didn’t feel an ounce of pity that my brother was about to lose his shit all over Will, until Lincoln started narrowing his eyes at the lack of a door, then at me, and then the empty space.

  I’d forgotten that he always assumed the worst when it came to my behavior — because I’d never given him a reason to believe the best.

  It stung.

  I flinched when his entire face froze and an angry snarl replaced his smile,

  “It’s not what you think it is, Will’s just making sure I don’t make bad choices by way of drug addiction, pornography, or anything else illegal, I’m lucky to have my own bathroom.”

  The muscles along Lincoln’s jaw ticked so violently I actually stepped away from him as he stomped across the room.

  Will just rounded the corner in time for Lincoln to punch him in the face.

  I covered my mouth with my hands. And a small part of me cheered, even though I felt bad for Will.

  I mean I was the one without the door. I was the one who had to suffer knowing that he didn’t think I deserved any kind of privacy, like a prisoner in his home.

  “What the f—”

  Lincoln jerked him to his feet. “She has no door.”

  Will rubbed his jaw. I’d never seen him fight a client; he was always controlled. The adult within a group of spoiled celebrities.

  So I expected him to tell everyone to calm down and have a rational conversation.

  Instead, he charged Lincoln, driving him directly into one of the nice fake plants on the wood coffee table.

  It broke beneath them.

  Jay yawned behind his hand and nodded at me. “So, what’s this about a door?”

  “I don’t have one.” I pointed at the guys still struggling to throw punches. “Shouldn’t you do something?”

  “My m
oney’s on Will.” Zane handed Alec a bill.

  Demetri tilted his head, “Yeah but Linc’s got heart. After all, it is his sister.”

  I scowled and waited for someone to at least try to break them apart. When nobody moved, I finally rushed between both of the guys, getting my hands on one muscled chest and shoving back only to stumble into another muscled chest and encounter a fist on my nose.

  “Shit!” I collapsed against the floor holding my nose and nearly passing out over the crimson blood that gushed all over my hands.

  “Ang!” Lincoln reached for me, but Will shoved him back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you. It was an accident—”

  “Just get her some ice.” Will snapped.

  I groaned and tilted my head back against the couch cushion, Will’s face came into view, his cheek was swelling, his lip was cut, and he still managed to look gorgeous. I didn’t even want to know what my nose looked like. It felt larger than my head, and when Lincoln finally returned with ice and a towel, I wanted to cry.

  There was a time in my life that I would have gladly taken a punch in order to become the center of attention — and now? Now I just wanted to crawl back to my room and hide under the covers, or maybe just slam my nonexistent door and pray for tomorrow to come.

  “Let me see.” Will pried my hand away and wiped the blood beneath my nose then placed a bag of ice across it. “Does it feel broken?”

  “How the hell would she know?” Demetri asked, “It’s not like she can sense broken bones in her body.”

  “Party’s over.” Will’s eyes locked with mine. “I’ll deal with, Ang.”

  Deal with me.

  Not take care of me.

  But deal with me.

  Like I was the problem.