Maeve
Drew looked good. More buff. More polished. A few more tattoos. And he was looking at me like an oasis in the desert. Then again, he’d always looked at me like that...away from cameras. In the apartment we’d briefly shared, alone, I was his queen. In public, I was the chubby sidekick. That was, when we actually went somewhere public.
Kelsey Sideris, Drew’s co-star and the girl he fake-dated but very real-kissed while he and I were together, came skipping over to us. Instead of clinging to him, she threw her arms around me with such force, I stumbled back into a warm chest.
Santiago steadied me while I was mauled by Kelsey. In fact, he pulled me away from her. He was subtle about, tugging me gently but firmly in the opposite direction of the pretty woman hugging me tight.
She finally took a step back, but kept a grasp on my arms. Her eyes were shining, cheeks flushed. She really was gorgeous. I could see why Drew’s people had wanted them to be seen together. If I were famous,Iwould want to be seen with her.
“Sorry I’m being such a dork. I’ve wanted to meet you for forever, but Drew kept his bestie all to himself.” She raked her eyes over me. “Look at you. You’re so pretty. I love the little heart. Adorbs.”
I’d tuned her out the moment she’d called me Drew’s bestie. My eyes flicked to his. Though we hadn’t been together for two years, this encounter was reopening a million tiny cuts that had only just healed.
“I’m surprised we never met too, considerin’ you were Drew’s girlfriend. Or is that current? Are y’all still together?” I asked.
She laughed and waved me off. “I’m not sure we were ever official. The studio stuck us together and we made out a lot, but I never brought him back to Jersey to meet the fam, you know? Definitely not current. Drew’s too grumpy for me.”
My heart hurt. I’d known he kissed her once. “A mistake,” he’d said. “Please, Maeve, you know I love you. The fake stuff gets confusing,” he’d pleaded. “You’re the only one for me. I’d never touch anyone else,” he’d promised. And I’d bought it, because I’d wanted to. One kiss caught by paparazzi didn’t mean anything, right?
It didn’t matter that it happened two years ago. This revelation peeled back old wounds, making them fresh again. I couldn’t look at him anymore, not with the ball of betrayal stuck in my throat. I extricated my arms from Kelsey’s hold, crossing them over my stomach so she couldn’t grab me again.
“Well, I’m happy you’re here. Should we take some pictures? After that, I like to have some quiet time before I go on, so you’ll have to excuse me.” I kept my voice calm, heavy on the sugar. My mama sure would’ve been proud. She was all about killin’ ’em with kindness, and I was dripping it like venom.
Clark lined the band up with the larger cast, mingling us together like we were old chums instead of complete strangers. I made sure to be on the opposite end from Drew. If he touched me, our clandestine romance was bound to turn into a very public bitch slapping.
Santiago took his spot beside me, his hand working beneath the back of my shirt, giving me the skin-on-skin reassurance I needed.
“I’ve got you, baby girl. Tell me what you need,” he murmured.
“I need to not be near these people.”
Despite the witch’s brew bubbling in my stomach, I smiled pretty for the camera. Clark had Santiago switch spots with another cast member—Troy something? Troy was fine. He smelled like Red Hots and threw his arm around my shoulders instead of my waist.
“Can’t wait to see you on stage, girl,” he said with enthusiasm.
I gave him a more genuine smile. “And I can’t wait to find out if your character gets arrested for runnin’ over Mrs. Clarkson’s prized show dog. Muffy was yippy, but he didn’t deserve to go out like that.”
Troy guffawed, big and loud. “Oh, fuck. I’m in love. You’re banking on my character getting locked up?”
“You do the crime, you do the time. That’s what my mama always said.”
My belt loop was tugged from behind, but before I could throw hands, I saw the culprit was my Santiago. Gorgeous, steady,worriedSanti.
“Come on. I’ll find you somewhere quiet,” he said with a rasp.
I waved at Troy and followed Santi to the door. Before we could make our grand escape, Clark stopped us, saying we had a little more press to do. He let in a few British journalists who were interested in both us and the cast. I overhead Drew saying he’d been a fan of mine for years, and I had to contain my eyeroll.
He’d never been a fan. Like Clive back at Low Bar, Drew wanted me to be the sweet, southern girl. He never went to my shows, even the bigger ones. At the time, he’d said he hadn’t wanted to draw attention away from me, but looking back, I knew it was an excuse. He hadn’t wanted to see me in a different light.
He never understood there was no different light, it was the angle you looked from.
Finally, after what felt like hours of torture, our tour director informed us it was time to line up and get ready to go on. Kelsey told me to break a leg, and Drew touched my hand as he filed out of the room. Once they were gone and we were headed to the darkened backstage area, Santi squeezed my hips with both of his wide hands while he walked behind me.
“You okay, baby girl?” he asked beside my ear.
“I’m okay. Rattled, but just fine.”
Mo and Murray were in front of us, but at any second, they could turn their heads and see Santiago’s hands sliding beneath my shirt, kneading my breasts. “You’re so fucking beautiful. So fucking mine.” He pressed kisses along my neck, and my eyes fluttered from how good he felt. “I’m sorry you had to see that shithead.”