Starving for more of it.
I hated the weakness that accompanied that hug, the little taunting voice in my head that said I wasn’t good enough for a simple caress.
The rapid beating of my heart that readily agreed.
Or the empty look in my reflection that I’d always believed it.
Will.
I shuddered.
“You okay?” Gem started swirling colors on her palette then dipped her brush in and swiped it across my jaw in an effort to match the shade of my tan skin. “You seem a bit off.”
I’d been off since that fateful day.
But I didn’t tell people that.
It was my secret to keep.
And his.
“How did I get so lucky?” Will’s lips grazed my ear as we walked toward the waiting limo. “To get you?”
I rolled my eyes as unease washed over me. “Stop, you know I’m the lucky one.” My heart was in my throat as I pasted on a smile and made eye contact with his bandmate, the one who’d given me the drugs still in the bottom of my purse, the drugs he promised would make me feel better after a drunken confession that I was depressed. Palms sweaty, I nodded to him.
His smirk made me feel dirty.
Like he was looking at me naked.
And I’d had my fair share of dirty.
I was underage Hollywood through and through.
But I’d never crossed that line into drugs territory.
I licked my lips and forced a heart-stopping smile up at Will. “You’re the best you know that?” I could see Andrew frowning out of the corner of my eye, his body language tense. He’d told me it was only a matter of time before I got tired of Will and chose him.
And I was out to prove him wrong.
Besides, it was just one hit, right?
One hit.
What would go wrong?
“All done!” Gem helped me to my feet and grinned. “I think you look beautiful.”
I hadn’t felt beautiful in a long time, and for some reason that compliment, the very real one from my aging makeup artist had me seconds from bursting into tears, so I did what I always did. I deflected, acted out, projected. “I get that a lot.”
She didn’t frown.
Instead, she stepped closer to me, put a hand underneath my chin, and tilted it up. “I just bet you do, sweetie.”
Not sure how to take it, I stumbled backward, barely remembering to grab my call sheet for the day, all while Gem smiled sweetly and waved like she was sending me off to school.
More like Hollywood Hell.
Jaymeson was spraying my brother with some sort of water hose, Lincoln yelped while Jaymeson told him not to be a bitch. Jaymeson’s wife, playing the role of the heroine, Pris laughed at the spectacle.
We were shooting a story based on the guys’ time in Seaside.
The first movie had been a blockbuster.
The second two were slated to make over seven hundred million domestic.
And lucky me. Will got me the part of the nemesis.
The enemy.
The most hated girl in America.
Me.
Angelica Greene.
Twenty-six years old and already being shoved toward retirement. Until this had popped up. How great after all, would it be, to play yourself?
Except I knew my place.
I’d been the villain.
Was always the villain.
Sure, I’d helped Jay get the girl over a year ago, but that one good deed wasn’t enough to pay for my sins. And it was a nightmare knowing that everyone believed the exact same thing.
“YOU LOOK MORE pissed off than usual.” Lincoln sprayed water across the ground giving it a wet effect and then tossed the hose.
I rubbed under my eyes and glanced away from it all.
Away from the cameras.
The crew.
The extras.
I inhaled the fresh ocean spray, thinking hey, this is where people relax it’s supposed to be vacation — God when was the last time I even had one of those? Breathe. In. Out. Easy. We only had three months of shooting. I could do anything with three months.
“I’m ready.” Angelica’s voice may as well be a warning alarm going off in my head. Bright red lights flashed in front of my line of vision and every single muscle in my body went taut.
I hated the effect she still had on me.
She’d gained weight back — no longer looking like a fresh cocaine addict — and her skin was bronzed just enough to give her the summer glow needed for the film. Add that to her captivating catlike eyes and her plump lips, and my body was already responding even when I hated myself for it.
At least I hated her more.
I would always hate her more.
“Great.” Jaymeson rubbed his hands together, “Have you looked over your call sheet?”
“Yeah.” She lifted it in the air.
I started texting on my phone, purposefully letting her know that I didn’t give a shit if she already had every line memorized and won a freaking academy award.
I didn’t care.
I never would again.
I checked emails.
Or maybe I just checked out mentally. I had to when I was around her, thinking never did me any good — thinking was what got me into this mess. Because in life, thinking leads to thoughts, and naturally those thoughts led to dreams, possibilities. And then, when those come crashing down, what do you have left?
Sadness and jack shit. That’s what you have left.
What possessed me to think I could do this?
Oh that’s right… my own damn pride at knowing that I won. That at the end of the day, she needed me — and I had the power to destroy her just like she had destroyed me.
Us.
INCOGNITO.
My mantra.
My goal.
My hell.
I should be on set instead of hiding out at an abandoned coffee shop down the street.
I should be making sure my actress wasn’t setting the director on fire, just like I should be making sure that she was doing her job, the job she was getting paid for.
Two years ago she’d been fired from three different films.
Two years ago she was still doing drugs.
Two years ago I was still in love with her.
Two years ago she broke my heart for a second time without even realizing it and providence brought her to my agency, my doorstep.
I was the freaking Luke Skywalker of her world.
I’d dreamed of that moment. The moment she’d come crawling back and I’d sneer in her face, tell her to drop dead, then laugh while the door hit her in the ass on the way out of my office.
But that was the thing about revenge. Nobody ever warns you about all the other feelings that attach themselves to that one word.
Like regret.
Like what ifs.
Or the soul-sucking sadness that still hadn’t let go and I wasn’t the type of guy to get sad and mope. No, sadness almost always turned to anger.
So, I wasn’t sad about Angelica.
I was pissed.
I was still pissed.
I checked my watch.
She’d been on set for an hour, I’d gotten shit done, and I was drinking cold coffee.
Yeah, nobody ever warned me how lonely revenge was.
Or how bitter it tasted.
I took another sip of the cold brew. As its acidic tang invaded my mouth, I closed my eyes and savored the bitterness.
“Hey,” A chipper female voice called to my right. “Aren’t you Will Sutherland? From that Adrenaline boy band?”