God, he looked good like this.

  Despite my obvious ogling, I remember that I’m irritated. “You were being unreasonable, Damian. We are just going to Rush. Can you relax?” I put my hands up letting him know I’m not in the mood for a back and forth.

  He cocks an eyebrow at me like he’s surprised at my annoyance before he nods. “Fine. I’ll see you both in an hour. Please text me where you’re planning to start and a tentative plan for the rest of the night.”

  He turns around without another word and the anxiety builds in the pit of my stomach over his demeanor.

  This wasn’t the first time we didn’t agree about me going out. We’d argued before, many times, but only over my safety. We’d yell, I’d stomp out of the room after he’d told me he was putting his foot down. There were times when I was younger, that I’d throw a tantrum and sometimes he’d give in. But I hated arguing with him. I knew he only wanted to keep me safe and I know sometimes I can be reckless. But this feels different. We’re going to the same lounge we’ve been to a hundred times. A lounge, where we have our own booth in our own section away from everyone else. It’s a super exclusive club, meaning there aren’t usually a ton of fans and he won’t be thwarting attempts of people getting too close. And while there are paparazzi, they’re minimal and usually pretty respectful of our space.

  At most, Veronica and I will take too many shots and I’ll be ready to go by midnight. I’ll fall asleep in the car on the way home and wake up just in time for the pizza to be delivered that I would have ordered before we left the club.

  This is about the new revelation in my personal life. He’s worried about me going out for the first time and drinking too much and having a meltdown over Paxton.

  Fair.

  But I’ll be fine. I know how to keep it together. I knew how to turn on the charm for the cameras and smile and wave and pretend like everything is fine even when my insides are screaming in pain. I’ve been doing it for years.

  Five to be exact.

  When I’d almost shed a tear at the club, it was simply a moment of weakness. A kneejerk reaction to walking in on who I thought to be the love of my life fucking another woman. I’ve had time to get my emotions under control.

  I’ll be fine.

  Veronica raises an eyebrow at me as she closes the door. “You guys have so much sexual tension, Shay, oh my god.” She hops on my bed and leans back, crossing her ankles.

  “No, we don’t. He’s like an overprotective brother who’s a pain in my ass half of the time.”

  She raises her eyebrows up and down and reaches for the drink she’d set on my nightstand. “Like a hot stepbrother that wants to fuck you?”

  My lips form a straight line, not wanting to go further down this line of questioning. “I’m going to do my makeup.”

  She follows me into my large bathroom and leans against the counter as I begin moisturizing my face. “You’re telling me that there are no feelings there now?”

  I swallow. I don’t want to have this conversation with Veronica especially while I’m newly single and vulnerable and potentially consuming alcohol at a quick velocity tonight. I don’t respond as I reach for my foundation, and she must take that to mean something because she pulls the makeup from my hand and looks at me. “Shay.”

  “What?”

  “You know you can’t lie to me.”

  “Oh my god, Veronica. I didn’t have feelings for him. I had a harmless crush because he was hot and I was vulnerable and then he just…went above and beyond the call of duty during a really tough time in my life. I tried to act on said crush and…” I pause trying to figure out what I was thinking when I tried to hit on the man hired to protect me, “he wasn’t having it. Then I met Paxton.” I roll my eyes at the ease with which his name falls from my lips. “Case closed.”

  “Hmmm.” She narrows her eyes at me and takes a sip of her drink. “I don’t buy it but fiiine.” She exaggerates the last word. “The guys are already on their way there and said they’ll get our table.”

  I shoot her a look, knowing exactly who she means when she says “the guys.” Two of the guys from the show, Jeremy and Derek and maybe one of the project assistants who became a part of our circle despite not actually being a cast member. “You talk about me. Are you going to invite Derek back here later?” I cock my head to the side as I refer to Veronica and Derek’s on and off relationship.

  “We decided that we aren’t going to do anything until after the season and I guess the show for that matter is over. You remember season four.”

  “Ah yes, the season you two were literally at each other’s throats so bad that they had to write an actual breakup in the show for the two of you because your chemistry fucking sucked?” I give her a smug grin. Like their real-life relationship, on the show, they were also on again and then off again, but that year they were off in their real-life relationship and it was a nightmare. They were miserable to be around and everyone fucking hated it. Except for the fans. They lived for all the angst and drama and it made it one of the most talked about storylines that year.

  I finish my makeup and finally decide what to wear, landing on a black, low cut, and short tuxedo dress that makes my legs look a mile long in my favorite black pumps. Not to mention my tits look great. I’d curled my dark brown hair before pulling it up into a loose ponytail while allowing some strands to frame my face. I know I’ll be photographed tonight and I want to ensure that any pictures that make it across Paxton’s phone are drop-dead gorgeous.

  “You look like sex on a stick.” Veronica praises as she takes a long sip through her straw now that she has on cherry red lipstick. “Let’s post something. I’m sure within five minutes, he’ll have seen it.”

  “Okay fine, just one thing, and then I’m not posting anything else the rest of the night.”

  “Brilliant. He’ll be stalking your page and probably mine too all night and it will be radio silence on our end.” She claps before wrapping an arm around my neck and snapping a selfie. After a few pictures that she posts and a cute video of us clinking our glasses together in a cheers, we head downstairs and I see Damian in the foyer with his phone to his ear.

  There are moments that I forget Damian is my security. I think in those same moments he forgets he’s my security too. Those moments are usually when my legs are completely bare and out on display. I could be in full glam preparing for the red carpet wearing a six thousand dollar couture gown and I wouldn’t get a second look. But if I’m going to the grocery store in a pair of shorts? His eyes will rake up my legs slowly until he meets my eyes and in that moment, he remembers himself. That his eyes aren’t meant to look at me like that.

  Though a part of me lives for those fucking looks.

  He blinks away quickly just as he always does and I’m grateful that I can see Veronica staring down at her phone and therefore not a witness to our eyes locking for just the briefest second. That would only give support to her theory that there’s a spark between us.

  “I called Tony,” he says referring to the head of security at the club. He speaks so coolly like he hadn’t just set my skin on fire with his gaze. “There’s a lot of paps by the entrance to Rush, so we’re going to bring you in through the back, if that’s okay? Unless you want the attention?” He asks and I’m somewhat surprised that I’m even given the option.

  “That sounds good.” I nod.

  Veronica, who still hasn’t looked up from her phone, chimes in, “I’m grabbing a spiked seltzer for the road, do you want one?”

  “Please,” I tell her as she walks towards my kitchen.

  I’m grateful for the privacy because I want to talk to Damian about what happened upstairs. I don’t want him to think I was mad or didn’t appreciate his intentions.

  He takes a step closer to me and lowers his voice. “I’m sorry for earlier,” he says before I can speak. “I didn’t mean to come off like an asshole or unreasonable. I’m just worried about you being thrust into the spotlight before you’ve really processed everything. But if you say you’re good, I believe you.”

  My heart melts at his words even though I know he doesn’t believe me. “So, you’re adding ‘therapist’ to your list of duties now?” I joke and he gives me a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, almost as if he is trying to find humor in my words but can’t. “I appreciate it.” I smile and he nods just as Veronica returns with two cans of grapefruit-flavored spiked seltzer.

  We head out of the house, Veronica’s arm linked with mine as Damian trails behind us, locking the door. Max, Veronica’s security arrived not long ago and will trail in the car behind us. We opted to go more lowkey and didn’t request a limousine for the night. Instead, we decided to take a Range Rover since it would only be Veronica and me. Damian will sit in the front, of course, while Veronica and I sit in the back.

  The ride to Rush is quicker than usual despite LA traffic and we are there within about twenty minutes and just as the manager, Tony, had told Damian, the entrance is crawling with paparazzi. We circle the block before going down the back alley towards the employee exit that is very much covered so that if anyone happens to be back there, they wouldn’t see who is going into the club. It’s one of the reasons so many people like coming here when they want to be incognito.

  Before long, we’re inside and heading towards our table, nodding and waving as I pass by friends and acquaintances.

  “About time you got here,” Derek says, immediately sliding a hand around Veronica when we slide into the booth and pressing a kiss to her cheek. I roll my eyes because I know how this is going to end. I can already see it in her eyes, and the second he flashes her his hundred-watt smile complete with those dimples she’ll be in the bathroom gagging on his cock.

  She slides his arm from around her. “Miss me?” She grabs a glass of champagne from the center of the table.

  “Obviously.” He smiles, just as Jeremy, who must have been at the bar, comes around and slides next to me in the U-shaped booth. Jeremy, who happens to play my love interest on the show, is probably one of the best friends I have other than Veronica. Maybe because we had to become very comfortable with each other very quickly, given that our romance begins after a one-night-stand on my first night in the city in the first episode of season one. It’s been six seasons and a lot of love scenes and we are slated to get married in the series finale according to the vague outline of the season I received last week.

  Although we have chemistry on the show and spend about twenty hours a week making out, there’s actually nothing between us. He’s ten years older than me and when he started the show, he was engaged to someone else whom he truly loved and was kind of fucked up for a while when things didn’t work out. By that point, he and I had established such a strong friendship that neither of us ever wanted to ruin that. We truly are like brother and sister.

  Of course, there was always some buzz around us. Fans love us on the show and shipped us as a couple relentlessly much to Paxton’s annoyance. There was a night that Jeremy had a party at his house and I ended up staying over that led to weeks and weeks of people speculating that we were in a secret relationship. It didn’t matter that half of the LA Dreams cast stayed over. Nope, it was just the fact that I was there.

  “Thank god, you guys showed up. Derek is being a whole pain in my ass,” he says grabbing his beer and pulling it to his lips as I grab a glass of champagne.

  “Because he wants V’s ass?” I joke loud enough for them to hear and Jeremy nods in agreement.

  Veronica flashes me her middle finger just as Derek raises an eyebrow and cocks it at her. “We had a whole conversation about this. No, Derek.”

  “Whatever.” He rolls his brown eyes and narrows them before pointing at me. “By the way, why have you been so MIA and what happened in Canada with Pax? I saw you were there for all of five seconds.” While Derek is obviously closer to me due to all the time we spend together, he is friendly with Paxton. I had told them all I was going to be in Canada for a few weeks when Derek had brought up going to Napa Valley for one last weekend before shooting started.

  Veronica flashes a look at me and I prepare the lie to fall from my lips. I will probably end up telling Jeremy but Derek talks way too fucking much especially when he’s drunk. He never knows what’s appropriate to share in mixed company and I don’t want him blabbing all of my business to everyone in our circle.

  “It’s a long story,” I say, waving him off. “We had an argument while I was there and I left. I have so much shit to do before we go back to filming anyway so I wasn’t going to spend it arguing with him in another country.” The lie is seamless and Veronica nods in agreement.

  “Plus, she missed me, obviously.” She tosses a blonde hair behind her ear before giggling into her champagne.

  “I guess he wants to clear the air,” Jeremy says and I look at him wondering what he means by that when he nods towards the entrance to our section where I see Paxton making his way towards us.

  Fuck.

  “Hey, baby.” The words are out of his mouth the second he gets to the table as he stands in front of us. I am hyperaware of Veronica tensing in my periphery and I can sense her focus on me. My eyes dart around him searching for Damian as I try to plan my exit strategy. I didn’t want to talk to Paxton. Our PR teams didn’t want or shouldn’t want me to talk to him either. Especially in public. I find Damian instantly, not too close, but close enough that he could get to me if I was really in trouble, standing next to the bar. His eyes are on me and I give him a slight shake of my head letting him know that I’m okay and to give me a second.

  I glare at Paxton, annoyed that not only is he here but he’s wearing this very particular gray suit that he wears when he wants all my attention. Objectively, he looks good and it pisses me off.

  “Pax, sit—” Derek says and he starts to get up to shake Paxton’s hand when Veronica wraps an arm around his shoulder and presses a kiss into his neck, effectively keeping him in place and distracting him from inviting Paxton to sit down. I’m pretty sure she’s only doing it for my benefit, and I wince internally, knowing it’s setting her up to be in a position she’s trying to avoid which is ending up in bed with Derek later.

  I put on a smile, that I’m sure everyone at the table knows is fake. “What are you doing here, Paxton?”

  “I thought we should talk?”

  I stare at him, confused, blinking twice. “About…?”

  “Do you want me to move so—” Jeremy starts and I cut him off, grabbing his arm to keep him in place.

  “No.” I look at him and five years of friendship allows him to read my face. I don’t want to talk to him and I need you to stay here as a buffer. “Paxton and I have nothing to talk about.”

  “Shay, please. It’s not…” His eyes dart around the table to the three other people and he lets out an exasperated breath. I know it’s because he doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. “It’s not what you think.”

  My lips pull into a thin line and my eyebrows furrow in question. “You can’t be serious. I don’t think anything. I’m not assuming or speculating. I saw it with my own two eyes, Paxton. Don’t even try to play with me right now.”

  Jeremy tenses next to me probably reading between the lines and his eyes flash to Paxton’s in disappointment.

  “Shay, can we talk in private, please?” Paxton asks as he avoids Jeremy’s gaze.

  “No. You ambushed me while I’m out with my friends so you can try to force me into talking?” I flash him another smile and bat my eyelashes at him. “You really tried it.” I snort. “Not going to happen!”

  “If I walk away from this table without you, they’re going to know we’re fighting.”

  “They already think that,” Veronica interjects. “Paxton, just stop. She’s not getting up and to quote a classic movie you can’t sit with us.”

  “So, this is how it’s going to be after everything?”

  The fake pleasantries fly from my body and anger flashes across my face. “Are you serious?”

  “Paxton, Shay, can we get a picture?” I hear Jeff, one of the nicer and more polite paparazzi from just beyond the velvet rope at the entrance to our section. It isn’t unheard of for paparazzi to be floating around or to actually ask us to pose for pictures rather than just snapping potentially unflattering ones. My eyes pull from him and give Paxton a look because if I had to guess, I’d say Paxton told him we’d give him a picture if he asked just to force me into it.

  I grit my teeth, narrowing my eyes at him before looking at Jeremy. “Can you move so I can take this bullshit picture?” I say through a perfectly composed smile and Jeremy nods before letting me out of the booth so I can stand next to Paxton. Immediately his arm wraps around my hip and slides down. I turn to face him, putting my back to the camera. “I would think again.” I think he realizes he shouldn’t fuck with me right now because when I move back next to him to prepare for the picture, he doesn’t touch me.

  A few more people have realized that we are posing for a picture and I hear more clicks from around the room. I already know it’s going to be a race to who can share it first.

  “Five minutes, Shay,” Paxton pleads and I can see the sadness in his brown eyes. I’m not sure if he’s already mourning our relationship or mourning the part of him that will get eviscerated when the public finds out what happened, but the pain in his brown orbs is evident. “Please.”

  “Fine.” I nod. “But only because they’re going to just stay there taking pictures for the rest of the night until you leave. And make no mistake, you are leaving after we talk.”

  He swallows and nods before following me towards the back where we can be alone except for Damian who is no more than thirty feet away. His back is turned, disallowing anyone to interrupt our moment of privacy and his large body takes up most of the entrance so it would be difficult for anyone to get a clear shot of us behind him.

  “I fucked up,” Paxton blurts out, obviously thinking that I’m going to hold him to five minutes.