Gay.
Holy crap.
Am I gay?
I gulp in a breath of air and step back from Bri, leaning against the sink. I need my own space right now. I need to breathe. I need to think.
Except now that I’m a step back, I’m just staring at her boobs.
I am so, so gay.
“Hey.” She cups my cheek in her palm. “You look like you’re gonna be sick. Maybe we should just get you home.”
Except the thought of going home makes me feel even sicker. I can’t see my parents right now. My normal go-to escape is sleeping over at Ally’s, but even if I wanted to stay there without her — and I’m sure her mom would be more than cool with it — it’s too late to call and ask. The idea of staying in a hotel, surrounded by more strangers, nauseates me even more.
“Van?”
I blink up at her. Her eyes look softer than I’ve ever seen them — with concern, but also, my stomach flips as I realize, with hurt.
Right. Having someone look like she’s gonna hurl two seconds after you’ve made out with her probably isn’t the most flattering.
“It’s not you,” I blurt instantly. “It’s me.” Oh God. I did not just say that. But it’s obvious from the way her face falls that oh, yes, I did. “Okay, that’s not what I meant. It’s just…a lot.”
“I know.”
I can tell she wants to mean it, but she’s wringing her hands, and her eyes won’t meet mine. Seeing her in pain, and knowing I’m the one who did that, feels worse than everything else combined. No matter what I’m worried about and how messed up I am, the one thing I know for sure is that I really, really care about her. I can’t have her thinking any less.
Sliding my hands into her hair, I pull her mouth to mine for a kiss I hope makes my feelings crystal clear. It takes her a second to relax into it, but only that. As she steals my breath completely, I tell myself that, in the end, this should be what matters — how perfect and right this is — but I’ve been in this business too long to forget that my life doesn’t entirely belong to me. That even the personal decisions I make affect my job and my future. And given how uncertain that future is post-Daylight Falls, I know this isn’t as simple as most people would think it should be.
As I’m sure Bri thinks it should be.
Either way, I know we’ve been missing for far too long, and I reluctantly pull back. “We have to go,” I say softly, hating doing so because I’m not sure when I’ll see her again. Not sure when I’ll feel like I can.
“Oh, right,” she says sheepishly. She steps to the side so she can check herself out in the mirror, and I let myself watch her readjust that absurdly hot shirt for just a second before I get to work touching up my own dress, hair, and makeup. “I’ll go first, I guess. Keep an eye on your phone, and I’ll tell you when it’s safe to come out.”
I watch in the mirror as she slips out the door, and then I apply another coat of lip gloss to replace the one I just left on her mouth. My hand is shaking like crazy, and it takes three attempts to get it on neatly. I have one eye on my phone the entire time, but it never lights up. I toss the gloss back in my purse and pick up the phone, opening my own text.
I know you’re asleep, I text to Ally, but I really need to talk. Can you call me when you wake up?
A tiny part of me expects her to respond a few seconds later, as if she’ll sense just how badly I need her, but she doesn’t. Instead, my phone lights up with a text from Bri that says, OK go.
I let myself out of the bathroom and start back for the table, only to see that Josh and Co. have already made themselves comfortable there under the watchful eye of the camera. I don’t, however, see Bri anywhere. Then Josh spots me, and I know I can’t go looking.
“Hey, where the hell have you been?”
I’m still holding my phone, so I just hold it up with a little wiggle of my hand to imply I was on a phone call and plaster a smile on my face as I join them. “Where’d Bri go?” I ask, keeping my voice neutral as Josh pulls a chair over for me.
“Said to tell you she went home. I gotta say, she’s a lot more fun than I thought she’d be.”
Tell me about it, I think as a dull ache starts forming in my chest at the knowledge that she’s gone for the night. “Maybe now you’ll stop calling her Mini-Jade?”
He grins. “Probably not.”
The subject turns to what it’d presumably been when I’d shown up — stupid gossip no doubt planted by Chuck and his team — and I return to thinking about where I can possibly go tonight to get some time alone with my thoughts and away from my parents. And then I realize the answer’s right next to me. I kick Josh in the ankle, startling him from the conversation he didn’t really seem that into anyway.
“Ouch. What the hell?” he mutters at me.
“Can I stay in your guest house tonight?” I ask, taking care to keep my voice out of the range of his mic.
He shrugs. “Sure. No problem.”
Huh. Of all people, Josh Chester is the one to come through in my time of need. Just when I thought this night couldn’t get any crazier.
Chapter Seventeen
Josh
After half an hour of watching K-drama jiggle one of those ridiculous legs at Sugar, I finally take her hint that she’s ready to leave, and announce that we’re heading out. I can see everyone’s eyes bugging out at the fact that we’re leaving together, but knowing that this is exactly the sort of shit Chuck wants implied, I don’t explain the guest house bit, leaving it for her to protest.
Weirdly, she doesn’t, and I admittedly get a little excited at the thought that the guest house was a bullshit excuse on her part.
At least until we get back to Malibu and that’s exactly where she goes, with a yawn that’s definitely fake and a “good night” that isn’t.
Between the late hour and the alcohol, I don’t even have the energy to jerk off. But I don’t really wanna lie in bed feeling frustrated, either, so I head into my media room to pick a movie instead. I’ve just put The Usual Suspects in the Blu-ray player when a knock sounds at the door, startling me into completely losing my shit.
Of course, it’s just K-drama, wearing the same tee and boxers she borrowed from me the other night.
I hope she’s here for sweatpants.
“What’s up?” I growl, frustrated to have her reinserting herself in my brain when I’d finally come up with a plan to clear her out of it. She winces, and it makes me feel sorta bad. “There’s a toothbrush there, right?” I add, as if being hospitable will make me a little bit less of a dick for practically yelling.
“Yeah, thanks.” She presses her lips together, and I can tell that whatever she came here to say, she no longer wants to say it.
I sigh. “What is it, K-drama?”
“I just…can’t sleep. Were you going to watch a movie? Can I watch with you?”
An image of those legs draped over me on the couch is not doing good things under the shorts I’ve changed into, and I make a mental note to sit on the opposite end of the couch. “Yeah, okay.” I step aside for her to come in, then close the door behind her. “I’m gonna grab a beer from the fridge. You want anything?”
“Just water, please.”
I grab her a bottle and myself one of those noxious light beers that may as well be water. As it is, I’ll have to spend hours in the gym tomorrow to work off tonight’s drinks. When I get back to the couch, she’s already curled up under the furry throw blanket in my favorite corner, but she looks so miserable I don’t even have the heart to make her move. I take a seat on the opposite end and pop the cap off my beer.