I closed my eyes and loosened my grip on her, giving us a little bit of space, and let out a harsh breathy laugh. “I like to think that I’m good at practicing control, but when you’re around . . .”
I didn’t finish the sentence. I couldn’t because her lips were on mine again, but even if they weren’t I didn’t have an adequate way of explaining what I felt, and it didn’t matter. I could kiss her, I could fuck her once to get it out of my system, but I knew I would want more. And I couldn’t have more. Not when my career was on the line, so fucking her out of my system was the only solution we had available, and even that one could be disastrous. In the end, I broke the kiss and gathered my wits. This was going to happen, but it wouldn’t happen when a douchebag named Rick could walk in on us at any given moment. I needed to go home, figure out how much longer I had to exert self-control, regroup, and probably jack off, not necessarily in that order.
THAT KISS. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I thought about it as I signed the lease. I thought about it as I held the keys in my hands. And I thought about it when I called Victor to tell him it was final. He’d agreed it was a good price and great location. He also went over the contract for me and approved it since it was a standard lease and didn’t lock me in for more than six months at a time. It was something I definitely needed, because I wasn’t sure where I would be in six months. Our conversation took a downward spiral when it went from my new place to the scheduled date I had with Gabe. At the mention of it, his mood changed, his responses became clipped and even though we were on the phone, I could practically see him running a hand through his hair roughly. I wondered what he must have been feeling. Whether or not my pretend being with Gabe affected him as much as he made it seem.
The ice cream shop we’d agreed to go to was one we’d frequented while dating, not as much once we finally married, but that made the story even juicier, apparently. His manager tipped off the paparazzi of our outing, so I dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, and he wore basketball shorts and a T-shirt, so it looked like we were having a completely “relaxed afternoon.” It was such a strategic outing, that when I didn’t have time to make it home, Gabe asked me to have Marcus drive me to the mall so I could jump in his car and go with him to the place.
He was on the phone with his assistant the entire ride to the shop.
“Lee says hi,” he said, in reference to his assistant, when he finally hung up the phone. I looked out the window and stayed silent because Lee was on my eternal shit list, along with Darryl. “Did you hear me?” he asked.
“I heard you.”
He let out a sigh. “Just because we’re getting a divorce doesn’t mean you have to push away our mutual friends, you know?”
“Mutual friends,” I said with a scoff. “Lee is the last person I’d consider a friend.”
“Wow.” He shook his head as he drove down Hollywood Boulevard.
“Wow what, Gabe? In case you didn’t know, the moment we separated Lee made it crystal clear he wanted nothing to do with me. Whenever I called you when you were on set . . .” I stopped talking and shook my head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“No, tell me,” he said, his voice soft. He looked over at me when we reached the ice cream shop. The paps were already running toward us and we’d only been parked for a second. I ignored them and continued to look at Gabe, the way I always did when they were around, because I couldn’t bear to look at that lens and the one-sided story it told.
“It really doesn’t matter. Nine months ago this conversation would have made sense, but you were too busy getting high and screwing every girl in Hollywood.”
He lay his hand over mine on my lap, his blue eyes searching mine. “I’m sorry.”
A knot formed in my throat, because for the first time his apology felt genuine. I tore my gaze away from his and instantly regretted it when I looked out the window and into five different flashing lights.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I said, clearing my throat.
When he turned off the car and went around it to open the door for me, smiling for the cameras and laughing at one of their jokes, I closed my eyes and for the millionth time wondered if everything about him had been an act. I hated to belittle what we’d had. I hated to see it as if it were nothing more than a puppet show inside of a light box, especially when my feelings for him had been so real, but it was all I could think when he played the part so well. The sound of the door handle made my eyes pop open. I took his hand as he helped me out of the car and walked beside him, both of us with our heads down as we entered the ice cream shop.