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“They like you because I like you. That’s as real as it gets.”
26
ASPEN
* * *
“What kind of tea would you like?” Luke asked, then kissed my temple. His hand was around my waist, holding me close. We were standing in line at the coffee shop down the street from his house.
While the bare fridge was proof enough, Luke really didn’t cook, just like he and his mother said. His state-of-the-art kitchen was pristine, not because he had a housekeeper or because he was a clean freak, but because he never used it.
He did have a coffee maker, but since he didn’t even have tea bags for me, we walked to this fun place. It wasn’t as nice as Steaming Hotties, but they did have a decent tea selection. Plus, smoothies. And acai bowls. And every grain and nut and gluten free possibility for breakfast. Perhaps it was the one thing I liked about LA.
After the call with his parents, he carried me to bed. There, I spent the night having Luke-made orgasms and being held in Luke-perfect arms. Being a fake girlfriend indicated I had to be in that role for other people, but alone, we acted like a couple. Slept–and not-slept–like one. The line had quickly blurred between real and fake. His kisses were real. His touch was real. But I second guessed whether he was doing it as show, as if this was how he’d treat his girlfriend if I were his real girlfriend. As if my visit to California was one long movie role for the both of us.
It felt like it was real. God, I loved how attentive he was. How protective. How orgasm-talented. How he held me. Winked at me. Kissed my forehead.
I felt… special. And his parents? They were the real deal. Genuine, open, friendly. It was clear Luke had a close relationship with them. But it was confusing how I fit in. Real or fake? The lines were blurring.
“Hey, Derek! Can we get an autograph?”
Luke’s hand slid around my back as he turned, keeping me close as he spoke with some fans. “I’m spending time with my girl right now,” he told them. “Thanks for understanding.”
I watched as he gave the two women his signature wink and smile.
They eyed me and nodded. “Right. Yeah, sorry.”
“What can I get you?” the barista asked.
Luke looked to me.
I told the woman my order, making sure I grabbed something extra to have in the house for later, then Luke gave his and paid.
We moved out of the way to wait.
I was looking at a woman with her little girl in matching pink outfits having breakfast together and felt a pang of longing for Sierra when Luke’s hand on my back tensed. “Shit,” he muttered.
I looked around, wondering what the trouble was.
27
LUKE
* * *
Lacey.
She was here in the fucking coffee shop.
The determined look in her dark eyes indicated this wasn’t a quick stop for some caffeine. This was planned. Probably even scripted on her part. No doubt she’d seen my latest social media posts and was figuring out the whole rehab thing didn’t work.
Rehab. This bitch told people I was in fucking rehab. I hated her and I was looking forward to the film role so I didn’t have to see her on set every day. Hopefully, with my contract coming to an end, Shep Barnes would be killed off with Dengue Fever or fall in front of a train or something and be written out of the show, instead of renewing.
I didn’t want to face her again. Hell, the idea of having to film another sex scene with her made me nauseated.
Everything about Lacey was fake. Body parts, personality, everything. Time away had me seeing every flaw she had. The sweatsuit she wore had to be a thousand dollars so it looked casual. The styled hair. The full face of makeup at nine in the morning. The nails. The diamonds in her ears. The tan. The overfilled lips that smirked as she approached.
Aspen, in comparison, was gorgeous. Natural. She was makeup free, her hair pulled back in a casual ponytail. The flip flops on her feet had to have come from a dollar store. She didn’t need to spend a fortune to be confident because she knew her worth wasn’t based on outward appearance.
