How to Fake It in Hollywood

“You are in too deep.” Her tone remained sardonic, but the vulnerable quiver at the end of her sentence gave her away.

He was still smiling when he kissed her. She twined her arms around his neck, and he pulled her as close to him as she could possibly get while still remaining a separate entity. That wasn’t good enough for him. The thought of being inside her wasn’t good enough for him, either. He wanted to devour her. Somehow, if she could become part of him, he would never come close to losing her again.

When they came up for air, he realized at some point he had hoisted her onto the back of the couch, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“It’s really not a bad show,” he said, pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it on the ground.

“At least you weren’t jerking off to it.”

“Not this time, anyway.”

She laughed and smacked him lightly on the chest. He got his revenge by bending his head down to nip and suck at her throat until she moaned.

“Sometimes I just get too carried away by Lucy LaVey’s adventures. That girl sure knows how to get herself into trouble.”

Grey unwrapped her legs from around him and hopped off the back of the couch, kneeling in front of him. She looked up at him with an expression that could pass for innocent, if she weren’t already halfway done unbuckling his belt. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. She smirked.

“Wait till you hear what she’s been up to lately.”



* * *





GREY REALIZED THAT as many times as she’d woken up in Ethan’s house, this was her first time waking up in his bed. It was her first time in his room at all, actually. The blackout curtains were closed, plunging the room into eerie darkness, where the distinction between day and night ceased to have meaning. She shifted against the solid heat of Ethan at her back, his arm thrown over her chest like a roller coaster safety bar. Being here with him conjured the same feeling she’d had in Palm Springs, like time and the outside world bent to their whims, and not the other way around. They couldn’t live in that bubble forever, but being able to catch a glimpse of it every now and then was enough for her. Maybe that was what love was, after all.

Her movements must have woken him up, and she felt him tighten his hold on her with a sharp inhale, brushing meltingly soft kisses over her neck and shoulder.

“What time is it?” she sighed, yawning and arching her back against him.

“Who cares?” he mumbled. He lazily circled her nipple with his fingers, then pinched, laughing into her shoulder as she squirmed.

“Good point.” She rolled over so she was facing him and moved her hand to his face, brushing her thumb across his cheekbone.

“What now?” she asked softly. He answered by pulling her into a deep kiss, his hand sliding down her body and settling on her hip, nudging her closer. He was already hard against her stomach, though since it was first thing in the morning she couldn’t take all the credit. She pulled her face away, laughing. “After that, I mean.”

“I don’t know.” His eyes searched her face. “You’re here.”

“I’m here.”

She thought he was going to kiss her again, but instead he stretched his head up to kiss her forehead.

“That’s all that matters.”

An hour later, they were in Ethan’s kitchen. Grey thought back to the first time he’d cooked for her, how she’d yearned for an excuse for them to act like a real couple in private. The reality was even better than she’d imagined. It was definitely slowing down their brunch progress, though; she’d barely gotten halfway through chopping the onion before Ethan had her pinned against the kitchen island with his hands up her shirt. That poor onion might have been abandoned forever if not for the sound of the door slamming open, followed by multiple sets of footsteps. The two of them leapt apart instantly. Grey stared at Ethan, wide-eyed, his expression of shock mirroring hers.

“Daddy!”

Ethan groaned.

“Fuck. I forgot I told Nora I’d take the kids this weekend,” he muttered, seconds before two little girls came careening excitedly around the corner. They stopped dead when they saw Grey. She thanked her lucky stars that she’d ignored Ethan’s coaxing and come out to the kitchen fully clothed.

They looked up at her, mouths slightly open, eyes going immediately to Ethan for help. A tall, slender woman rounded the corner after them. When Grey registered her identity, her stomach lurched.

Grey’s brief tween crush on Ethan hadn’t been a territorial one; she’d been pragmatic enough to accept that Nora Lind was the only woman cool enough to deserve him. Grey had spent hours poring over pictures of them on the red carpet. In the years before everyone was impeccably and impersonally styled, Nora would show up in a buzz cut and a vintage tuxedo and outshine everyone who had been foolish enough to wear a designer gown and diamonds. At the premiere of Dirtbags, she’d worn a sheer black maxi dress with nothing underneath but men’s briefs and white X’s taped over her nipples; Ethan next to her in a T-shirt with one of her old modeling photos printed across the chest, cigarette between his lips, arm around her shoulders, gazing down at her with adoration.

Even dressed down, makeup-free—actually makeup-free, not just the illusion of it—she was stunning. Her eyes registered Grey with shock, then her pouty mouth twisted in amusement. She raised an eyebrow at Ethan, who exhaled heavily.

“Elle, Sydney,” he said, moving over to stand next to the girls. “This is Grey. My girlfriend.”

Grey waved and smiled, as her stomach did another jump. Girlfriend. For real this time. “I’m so happy to meet you two. I’ve heard so much about you.”

They looked up at her with saucer-round eyes. The younger one backed up to Nora, taking her hand.

“I think they’re feeling a little shy today,” Ethan said in a stage whisper.

“That’s okay. Sometimes I feel shy, too.”

The older girl crept over to Ethan and tugged on the bottom of his shirt.

“Can we go swimming? I want to show you my backflip.”

“Sure. Let’s go drop your bags off in your room first.”

He ushered the two of them down the hall, shooting Grey a brief look of apology for abandoning her with Nora.

Once the two of them were alone, Grey could see Nora sizing her up—but not unkindly.

“Grey. Nice to finally meet you in the flesh.” The emphasis she put on the word “flesh” made Grey’s cheeks flush scarlet.

“I, um. They don’t know, right? About…”

Nora shook her head, smiling slightly.

“No, thank god. If they were a few years older it might be another story. They know about you, though. Or they know he’s been seeing someone.”

Grey shifted her weight, trying to figure out what exactly Nora knew, what Ethan had told her. After all, they’d never “officially” broken up.

“I am sorry, though. That they’ll have to…eventually. That’s shitty.”

Nora shrugged. “I’m sure it was worse for you than it’ll be for them. Ethan and I have done our share of sex scenes over the years, together and apart. And he’s certainly been in the news for worse. They’ll have to deal with all that one day, too. Just one more item for the therapist’s couch.”

Grey laughed, relieved.

“Can I get you some coffee or anything? Latte? Or do you have to get going?”

Nora looked like she was about to decline, then thought better of it.

“Sure. A latte would be great.”

Grey turned toward Ethan’s espresso machine, grateful to have something to keep her occupied. Nora perched on one of the island stools.

“So, how have things been? With you two. With everything.”

“Um…things are good. We’ve had our ups and downs,” Grey answered diplomatically, measuring the espresso beans. She turned around to see Nora studying her.

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