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Just a Fling Page 4


  The movie has my attention, and it’s not because the storyline is kickass.

  It’s because of Stella.

  I’m watching her every second, my gaze bouncing from the unreality of her on the movie screen to the reality of her in front of me. Eli’s arm is settled on her shoulders, and I can’t figure out why seeing him touch her on and off screen makes my blood boil.

  I shake my head in an attempt to reason with myself.

  There’s no way I can be into this chick.

  I’m only agitated because nothing is adding up.

  I glance over at Willow next to me when her phone goes off again. It’s been non-stop for the past ten minutes.

  “You better answer that,” I whisper. “It sounds important.”

  “Shit,” she groans and roughly drags her phone from her pocket. “Everyone knows I’m here.” She encloses her hand around the phone screen to block out the light and lets out a whimper. Her hand shakes as she types out a reply.

  “Is everything okay?”

  She keeps the screen covered but lowers her hand enough for me to read the text.

  Mom: Brett got into a car accident. It’s bad. You need to come home ASAP.

  “Brett is my boyfriend,” she says, close to tears. “This isn’t good. I don’t know what to do.”

  I give her a comforting look. “You go be with him.”

  “What about Stella?”

  “I’ll explain to her what happened and help out in any way I can in your place.” I signal to the exit I scoped out when we walked in.

  Willow squeezes my arm. “Thank you, Hudson. I’ll do everything I can via phone and email until I figure out what’s going on. Don’t tell her why I left until the movie is over, okay? She’ll freak out and try to come with me. That can’t happen.”

  Seven

  Stella

  My chest is tight. My jaw is tight. My muscles are tight.

  “I can’t believe you sat through the movie and didn’t tell me,” I yell at Hudson in the back hallway of the theater. He pulled me to the side minutes ago to tell me about Brett.

  “I would’ve gone with her,” I go on. “Call me a car. Hopefully, I can make it to the airport before her departure.”

  Willow has always been my rock. She was there for me during my breakup with Knox and when my so-called friends chose him over me. I wasn’t good enough for them any longer. I hate that I can’t be there with her now.

  “Your reaction is why we didn’t tell you,” Hudson answers. “She didn’t want you to get worked up like you are right now.”

  That’s Willow—always putting my career before everything else.

  “Well excuse me for being in my feelings when a terrible thing has happened to my best friend!”

  His face softens. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “We need to figure this out.”

  “You make the call. If you want to fly to her, I’m game.”

  I stiffen when arms wrap around my waist from behind.

  “You ready to head to the after party?” Eli asks. “It’s at this kick-ass exclusive club.”

  I peek back at Eli to see his face lit up in excitement.

  Eli is a partier who goes through money and women like they’re nothing. That’s why they pressured me into playing his girlfriend. I’m looked at as the perfect role model. I’m the childhood star who didn’t go wild and the perfect solution to the up-and-coming actor’s bad boy image.

  I pull away from him and try to look disappointed. “Unfortunately, I have to bail. Willow’s boyfriend got in a serious car accident, and I need to be with her.”

  “That won’t be happening, Stella.”

  My heart races, and I groan at the sound of the high-strung voice that belongs to Tillie Armstrong, the pain in my ass with a stick up her ass who always seems to hit a nerve. She stops in front of me clad in a purple dress with her honey blonde hair straightened to her shoulders.

  “There was an agreement when you were given the movie part,” Tillie reminds me. “Per that contact, you are required to attend all movie premieres with Eli and after-parties. In case you forgot, you signed the dotted line and must adhere to those obligations.”

  Tillie is the bitch … I mean publicist of the production company that funded our movie. Her favorite hobby is reminding me I’m contractually obligated to be their bitch. Contractually obligated makes up ninety percent of her vocabulary. I’m sure she says it in her sleep. She is always lurking around waiting to dispute my every move.

  I’m contractually obligated to kiss Eli, to act like we’re screwing, and declare my love for him. I wish I were contractually obligated to stick my stiletto up her ass.

  “It’s a family emergency,” Hudson cuts in.

  Tillie gives him an annoyed look. “I don’t know who you are, nor do I care, but you’re wrong. It’s not a family emergency. It’s someone else’s family emergency. No relation. No excuses.”

  Hudson holds out his hand, his jaw clenching. “Then allow me to introduce myself. I’m Hudson, Stella’s bodyguard. Now, you know who I am.”

  I bite into my lip and stare at him, loving how he’s standing up to her.

  “Pleasure,” Tillie says, not bothering to shake his hand or introduce herself.

  Hudson doesn’t let her attitude stop him. He jerks his hand over to gesture to me. “You’re going to make her stay here and do this shit when you can clearly see she’s upset and wants to be there for her friend?”

  “You must not understand contracts, Henry.” Tillie looks over at me. “Show up to the party, or you’ll be reaping the consequences.”

  “You must not have heard me. It’s Hudson,” he corrects.

  Tillie snarls her lip. She’s not used to people going to battle against her.

  “Can’t she miss one party?” Eli asks before Tillie decides to claw Hudson’s eyes out. “I’ll go with her to see Willow. It’ll make me look like a supportive boyfriend.”

  Tillie shakes her head. “Neither one of you are going anywhere but that club. Period. This conversation is over.” She gives us one last sharp look and leaves.

  I fiddle with my bracelet. “Thanks for having my back and trying,” I say to the guys, giving them a forced smile. I’m filled with devastation but trying to keep my cool. I’m an actress. I can do this.

  Eli squeezes my shoulders in apology. “Sorry, babe. I’ll do my best to get us out of the party as early as I can, if that helps?”

  I nod. “Thank you.”

  “I need to find my manager and let him know what’s going on,” Eli says before disappearing down the hall.

  “Who the fuck was that hag?” Hudson asks.

  “That’s the woman who holds my future in her hands and uses it as leverage anytime I don’t fall in her line.” I drop my arms at my sides. “She’s the reason they gave me this role.”

  “Fuck her. That’s bullshit.” He stops to pull his phone from his pocket when it chimes. “It’s Willow. She has fifteen minutes before her flight takes off. You want to give her a call?”

  Tears fill my eyes, and I nod.

  He hands me his phone, and I immediately hit Willow’s name. She’s sobbing when she answers. It hurts. I ask her over and over again if she wants me to come with her, but she refuses. She knows the hell Tillie will put me through if I bail. I make her promise to call or text when she lands and to keep me updated before hanging up.

  “She good?” Hudson asks.

  “As good as she can be,” I answer. “Brett is in ICU, and her mom said it isn’t looking good. She also said there are stories already floating around that he was drinking and driving and ran a stop sign.”

  “Fucking dumbass. How do they know that already?”

  “A half-empty bottle of vodka was in the passenger seat. The hospital took a blood tox, but the results haven’t come back yet.”

  “Shit. Poor Willow.”

  “That’s not even the worst part.”

  His brows snap together.
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  “The car he hit was a mini-van with a family of four inside. They’re not sure if one of the children will survive.”

  “Fuck. That has to be a lot for her to take in.”

  Brett drinking and driving doesn’t surprise me. He’s not a good guy, but Willow refuses to leave him. They’ve been on and off since high school, and she can’t walk away because of their history, even though it’s not a healthy relationship.

  Something hits me when I look back at Hudson.

  We’re going to be alone in the hotel tonight.

  Uh oh.

  It’s different being in a hotel than it is in my home where thousands of square feet separate us. I didn’t plan on drinking at tonight’s after-party, but a stiff drink is sounding pretty damn good right now.

  Eight

  Hudson

  “I’ll suck your cock if you let me through.”

  I stare at the half-naked girl who can’t be any older than eighteen standing in front of me. “What did you just say?”

  Another woman, a twin I’m assuming, comes to her side, and they both look up at me with innocent brown eyes.

  Fuck.

  I want to take them home to their parents.

  How did they even get in here?

  It’s been one long ass day, and it keeps getting stranger by the second.

  The after-party is in a club filled with dancers and women serving overpriced drinks. To be honest, it’s giving me a damn headache.

  When did I turn into an old man?

  I enjoy having a good time, watching live bands, and drinking beers with my friends, but this shit is a madhouse. People are bumping into each other, screaming in faces, and girls are fighting their way into the VIP section like Stella and Eli are a fucking King and Queen.

  They remind me of roaches. I block one chick from sneaking in and there’s another one sliding in to my left. No way are any of these groupie vultures going near my cock.

  STD-free is the way I want to be.

  Josh steps to my side with a disturbing smile on his face. “If he’s not game, I am.”

  Of course, he is.

  Dude will fuck anything if it means he doesn’t go to bed alone with his sausage link in his hand. He’s dumb to think these women actually want him. They look at him as a stepping stool to a better opportunity … Eli.

  “How about you two make out and we’ll consider if you’re worthy of our time,” he tells them.

  My skin crawls at his creepiness.

  I gesture to them. “Dude, they’re fucking twins who look sixteen. Incest and pedophilia your thing?” Sick fuck.

  He chuckles. “They’re not my sisters, and obviously if they’re here, they’re old enough.” He leans back on his heels, crosses his arms, and licks his lips. “I’ve always wanted to fuck twins. There’s something so hot about it.”

  “Hot?” I repeat. “I think you meant to say fucking gross.”

  “Lighten up. We’re all here to have a little fun.”

  The girls are staring at us with expectation and waiting for their golden ticket.

  “We’re eighteen,” one says, grinning wildly. “Legal as can be.”

  I scowl at how pathetic they sound and look over at Josh. “Have fun with your cock-sucking sisters. I’ll be over here doing my job and relishing in the fact I won’t have to visit the clinic tomorrow.”

  He shrugs. “More pussy for me then.”

  I shudder. “Enjoy it while it lasts because I have a feeling your dick will be fall off in the next few years.”

  I walk away and lean back against a wall. I’m ready to blow this joint and hit the sheets. I glance over at Stella and Eli to find them whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears.

  Why are these other women trying to get to Eli?

  Stella has his full attention. It’s obvious they’ll be leaving together. Hopefully, they’ll have their fun in his suite.

  Their relationship confuses me. Stella didn’t seem interested in him all day. She doesn’t even look happy now as she chugs down drinks and stares into space. She rolls her eyes when Eli starts raining kisses down her neck but still tilts her head to the side to give him better access.

  There’s no enjoyment on her face.

  He’s not getting her all hot and bothered.

  It can’t be what it seems.

  I let out a breath of relief when Stella informs me that she’s ready to leave.

  My head is dying for some silence, and I swear if another chick offers me sex, I’m going to throw her out of the club.

  I never thought I’d be bitching about being offered pussy. Yet, here I am. The worst part is that I have to wake up and do it all over again tomorrow.

  Thankfully, the suite we’re staying in is in the same building as the club. I have to help Stella walk back, and she wobbles in my hold. The alcohol hitting her doesn’t surprise me. She spent her night competing against herself over how many drinks she could suck down.

  I shut the door behind us and walk through the foyer of the decked-out suite. Stella lives a life of luxury. The suite is spacious and the décor expensive. I have my own bedroom and private bathroom, even though I’d prefer more privacy. I shared a bedroom and bathroom with dozens of other men for months. Some space would be nice.

  I asked Stella several times if she wanted me to take her to Eli’s room, but she only shook her head and muttered something along the lines of, “Over my dead body.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay with your boyfriend?” I ask again.

  She collapses on the couch and starts fumbling with the strap of her sparkly heel, stumbling in the process. I should help her, but that’s not my job. I’m here to make sure she’s not kidnapped or murdered, not to help her do shit like that. She throws the heel down when she’s successful, and it takes her a few seconds to gain control of herself to start working on the other.

  “My boyfriend?” she says when she manages to get it off.

  I recline against the wall and watch her. “The dude you were all over at the theater? The one you were tonsil scrubbing with at the club?”

  How drunk is this broad?

  “Eli?” Her face turns horrified when I nod. “Gross. He isn’t my boyfriend.”

  “Fine, your fuck buddy.”

  “We sure as hell aren’t fucking. We’re fake dating.”

  The fuck? Who does that?

  I rub the back of my neck, replaying her response like I misheard it. “Why would you fake date someone?”

  It’s the most absurd shit I’ve heard all day. Hell, maybe all year. And I’ve had one eventful year.

  She leans back and waves her hand through the air. “It’s complicated.”

  Complicated yet captivating.

  I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans and prepare myself for story time. This is something I can’t wait to hear. “Sounds like it. I can listen to complicated.”

  “You’re going to find out eventually,” she mutters, looking anxious. “We’re pretending to date to promote our movie. You know, drive up publicity and hype. His camp wants his reputation cleaned up because he’s been somewhat of a loose cannon and man slut. They look at me as the perfect child star all grown up, so it was either I agree and get the role, or they find someone else to go along with it. I decided to advance my career.”

  I can’t hold in my laugh, and her brows furrow at me.

  “You’re a rent-a-girlfriend?”

  People actually do that shit?

  It dawns on me now that was what that Tillie chick was referring to. She’s in a contract to date Eli.

  She grimaces at my comparison. “Don’t say it like that.”

  “Why? It sounds better than me saying you’re pimping yourself out for the success of your movie.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate you calling me a hooker.”

  “I didn’t call you anything, Hollywood.”

  “You insinuated it.”

  “I guess so, but it’s not exactly my busi
ness.” I point to the door. “You sure you don’t want me to leave? You can call Eli over, tip off paparazzi, and it’ll look like you two are in here making sweet love when in actuality you’ll be sexting other people from opposite ends of the couch.” I grin. “Perfect relationship, if you ask me. Very romantic.”

  My crudeness surprises her. It surprises me, too.

  She frowns. “Has anyone ever told you you’re an asshole?”

  I place my hand over my heart and lower my voice. “My feelings … stop.”

  I am acting like an asshole, but I’m mad at myself. I was changing my mind about Stella being a selfish brat after our talk in the kitchen and seeing her reaction to Willow’s situation, but I was wrong.

  She snatches her clutch and starts rummaging through it like a madwoman until she finds her phone. “I’m texting Willow and telling her to find a replacement for you immediately.”

  “Good riddance. My prayers have been answered. The sooner, the better.”

  “Why don’t you quit then? Why even take the job if I repulse you so much?”

  “My brother begged me to, and the last thing he needs at the moment is to be stressed about you being unprotected,” I pause and tilt my head toward the phone in her hand.” And it’s probably a bad idea to text Willow right now.”

  Some of her anger dissipates as her shoulders slump. “Good point. I’d be freaking out if something like that happened to my boyfriend.”

  “Your real boyfriend or a fake one? Can you be more specific so I can keep up?”

  She flips me off. “You’re an ass, and I’m speaking in generality. No boyfriend here. I’m officially on a break from dating.”

  “Unless you’re getting a paycheck for it?”

  “Go screw yourself. I’m fake dating for the sake of my career, and it’s not the first time it’s been done. I’m sure it won’t be the last either.”

  “You might be right, but it’s the first time I’ve known someone to. Where I come from, we don’t date for paychecks. We tend to call those people hookers … street walkers …”

  “I don’t live where you come from, so how about that? Where I come from, we focus on our careers and people don’t insult their bosses.” She gets up from the couch to stomp to her bedroom and turns around to give me one last scowl before going in. “Keep your mouth shut about Eli. You can’t tell your friends, girlfriend, anyone.”