None of these girls can know Stephen like I do. I’ve seen a vulnerable side to him that not many know and he works so hard to hide. I drove him home from an event that had ended with him drinking a little too much and tumbling out of the place and nearly landing in my lap. As I drove, I tried to ignore his soft mumbling, then the weight of the silence between us.
Stephen likes to hide in silence. He’d rather observe than share.
But that night, when I half carried him into the house, he clung to my wrist rather than letting me leave him on the couch. He made a sound close to a whimper and tugged me close enough to hear his whisper as he caressed me so gently.
“Please don’t go, Liv. I don’t have…have the right. But please.” Then he’d gotten vaguer. “Don’t hurt me. Choose me, be mine and…and stay. No cheating. No games. Just us.”
The words were slurred and unsteady. I’m still not sure he knew he was talking to me or that he remembers how I soothed him that night. I brushed his dark hair over his forehead and kissed his temple softly. He’d never let me take care of him before and I didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity.
Even rumpled, even drunker than he’d ever admit to being, Stephen was stunning. His firm jaw, deep eyes, big frame, and the intensity that made its way through the haze of alcohol. Not to mention how good he smelled, something spicy, mixed with a hint of tobacco, aftershave, and whiskey.
I shake my head of the memory and resist the urge to cross the room and finish what we’ve started. It’s so tempting. Sure, I’m jealous. More than anything, I want to be the only one he shares his time with and the only one he takes solace with.
I want to be enough for the man I love, the man that’s ruined all other men for me. Still, he does nothing more than follow me with his eyes until another man, more my age, approaches me.
“You know Stephen Grant, right?”
“He’s been my boss for a while,” I agree. “We work on a reality show together.”
“Sure.” He eyes me up and down before offering me his hand. “I’m James.”
“A pleasure.” I shake his hand and paste a well-rehearsed smile on my face. I know how to play the game. My dad has taught me well. “Would you like me to introduce you?”
“No. No. I don’t have anything to pitch yet. But it’s nice to know that it’s an option for the future.” He flashes a dashing smile that should get me excited, but it falls flat.
I can’t help but compare him to Stephen—so well versed and well spoken in every environment, unless he’s overwhelmed. He wouldn’t ever approach someone under pretenses just to switch it up. And there’s never a hesitation with him.
James must be new to the game and looking to get his foot in the door. With his long blond hair, the fact he’s not wearing a suit and his sleeves are rolled to his elbows, he looked effortlessly stylish—classy even without trying or meaning to be.
“Well, I’ll keep an eye out for any opening that would present you with an opportunity,” I promise.
“You seem bored,” he continues anyway. “Would you be interested in some company for tonight?”
“Actually, I think I’ll be heading out shortly.” I shrug. “Need my beauty rest, after all.”
“I can’t imagine you ever looking less than stunning.” He lifts my hand to his mouth and grazes his lips over my knuckles.
Rather than jerk away like I want to, I allow it, then make an easy exit, saying goodbye to the people I need to keep happy. As I wait for the valet, Stephen finds me. He holds his hands behind his back like I’m too much of a risk to touch. I tighten my hold on my clutch purse and refuse to look at him.
I swallow. “If you don’t want to talk about it, fine. Then, tell me that things are over.”
He’s silent for a long while, watching me until my car is brought to the curb. I pay and tip the valet, and Stephen holds the door open for me. “Come to my house. We’ll straighten everything out.”
“I remember the way.”
I make my way to his place, leaving any sense of pride or intelligence behind. We should stop this, I know that. My dad will be furious if he finds out. People will talk, but people in L.A. have short attention spans and I’d hardly be the first woman ruined by a producer. The story would last a week before the gossips get bored.
Stephen meets me at his house shortly after I arrive and welcomes me in. His hand slides over the small of my back as he guides me through the entrance and I all but explode. All the stolen glances at the party, the jealousy, and the frustration were like foreplay making the air thick with sexual tension.
“Stephen,” I whimper. “Talk to me.”
“I need you, Olivia,” he says as he shut the door. “And I can tell that you need me too.”
“So badly.”
“But we can’t, sweetheart. To protect us both.”
“I don’t need protecting,” I insist.