“No, I haven’t.” Not in the least.
She shakes her head, dismissing my response. “You have. When you really want to see it in your conscious mind, you will.”
I know she’s figured out something that I haven’t yet, either because she’s older and wiser, or just because she’s wiser in general. Or maybe because she’s my mother and she knows me better than I know myself, or because she really is more in tune with the universe than I am. It’s frustrating that she can see an answer that’s still hidden to me, but I don’t press her. Because I trust her when she says I’ll see it when I’m ready.
Understanding that doesn’t lessen my current anguish.
I peer up at her, suddenly feeling half my age and very vulnerable. My voice is shaky when I ask, “How can I ever hope to see anything when everything around me is so dark?”
“Not so dark.” She pulls me tighter into her embrace. “You just have to find your North Star. Let that be what guides you.”
There’s sharp insight in her words and a comfort in the energy she gives, and though I’m not sure yet what—or who—my North Star is, I’m reminded of the tarot reading she did for me not too long ago and the star card that showed up in my future—hope.
And with nothing quite resolved, I cling again to that hope, trusting that the universe will give me the answer soon.
19
“Logan O’Toole, you are a god.”
My head snaps up. I’ve been sitting on my couch staring at my hands, my thoughts racing, but Bambi Roo has just walked in the living room, smelling like baby wipes and with her bag slung over her shoulder, and I become aware that I’ve been sitting like this for almost half an hour.
I give her a weak smile. “Hardly.”
“No, really. That thing you did the third time you made me come, when you had me bent over the table? Oh my God, I’ve never come that hard, I swear.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Bambi says, tossing her long, dark hair behind her shoulder with a grin. “I’m telling my agent to make sure I book a thousand more scenes with you.”
A couple months ago, this is the kind of thing that would have made me proud, made me a little smug. I like knowing my girls are happy when they leave my set, I like having a reputation as someone who’s amazing to have sex with. But right now, all I feel is a churning dread in my gut, a sick feeling of worry and shame—and if I’m being honest, a little bit of self-righteous anger.
“You going somewhere?” Bambi asks, gesturing at me. I’m fully clothed, shoes on and a baseball cap pulled down over my hair, and I’ve been that way since our scene ended, leaving Bambi to clean herself up while I frantically tried to call and text Devi. She wouldn’t answer her phone, and there was no way in fuck I could wait for her to call me back. So I got dressed and I’ve been waiting anxiously for everyone to leave my house so I can drive to Devi’s apartment and figure out what the fuck is going on.
“I’m going to my girlfriend’s,” I say, trying to make it clear that I really want to go now and also trying not to be rude.
But really, lady. Get the fuck out of my house so I can leave.
Bambi looks simultaneously disappointed and excited to hear gossip. “You have a girlfriend? Was it the girl who was here today?”
“Yeah. Her name’s Devi.”
“She’s really hot,” Bambi says approvingly.
Something twists inside me. “Yeah. She’s pretty much perfect.”
“Well, I won’t take up any more of your time,” Bambi says, and shrugs her bag higher up on her shoulder, walking toward the door. “Oh, and I saw Raven’s tweet while I was getting dressed. Congratulations, dude. People will fall all over themselves for that.”
Raven’s name and the word congratulations should not ever share the same space, unless someone is congratulating me on escaping our relationship, and I’m immediately wary and on edge. But I also have to get out of here and find Devi, so I decide to shelve this Raven thing for the moment and make sure Bambi leaves.
“It was great working with you,” I say, and I think it sounds convincing because she flashes me a big smile.
“I would say the same to you, except you already know how great it was for me.” She winks, and then she waves and walks out the door, blowing me a kiss before she shuts it behind her.
And I’m on my feet in an instant, swiping my keys off the counter, jogging to my garage door. As I get in my car and back out of my driveway, I dig my phone out, thinking I’d have to dig to find this tweet of Raven’s that Bambi mentioned, but nope. It’s right there in my notifications on my lock screen.
New project with @number1Toole CUMMING soon. #staytuned #bignews
“What the fuck?” I mumble, steering with one hand, my eyes flicking between the empty road and my phone. I swipe at the tweet, opening up the app, and then I see not only Raven’s tweet, but the innumerable number of replies, people shitting themselves over Raven’s “announcement.”