Page 90 of If the World Was Ending

She looked up at Colby with soft, gentle eyes, like she had the worst news ever to deliver. “He is the it boy of the moment. And well deserved. That movie made me cry, laugh, cheer, and scream. All the feels.”

Colby just stared at her. Hunter sighed loudly, but Colby still refused to look away from Hannah. “I’ll give you my number, Hannah, and we can work out the details.”

“Is it the same number Colby has? Because I can just get it from him.”

“Oh, he still has my number?” Hunter said, the sarcasm more than apparent in his tone and face as his eyebrows lifted. “That’s weird because he doesn’t use it.”

“When your fellow Canadian Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone, he made it work both ways,” Colby shot back.

“You moved out,” Hunter blurted out, and Colby could tell by the way his face twisted that he wished he hadn’t said it.

“I’m still paying half the fucking rent,” Colby barked back.

Colby tried to take a deep, stabilizing breath but couldn’t. His lungs just wouldn’t expand. He turned to leave and walked directly into the back of that fucking photographer who’d been shooting Hannah earlier. Now he was taking pictures of a rapper and his girlfriend. Colby apologized as he tried to get around him. But he noticed Hunter and Hannah, who were standing now, reaching for Colby, trying to stop his exit. “Oh, hey! Let’s get a shot of you three. Hottest musicians and hottest actor in the same place, together!”

Colby wanted to tell him to fuck off, but that would be bad, so he grimaced and hoped it looked like a smile. He turned back to Hannah and Hunter. Hunter was grinning. He looked so relaxed and unaffected. Colby wanted to scream. He also looked so fucking hot it made Colby’s blood boil in a different way.

In his absence, Colby had tried to convince himself that Hunter wasn’t that good-looking. That Colby had just been desperate to be with a guy, and Hunter had been willing, so it was primal need rather than chemistry or actual attraction. Now that lie was laid bare because even though Colby was hurt by Hunter and furious with him, he couldn’t deny he was also drawn to him. It was almost physically painful to look away. Hannah wrapped an arm around Colby as soon as he was within reach, her stack of gold and diamond bangles jingling in his ear as she guided him to her left, to sandwich him between herself and Hunter.

The photographer looked ecstatic. “Lean into it and have fun!”

Colby bit back another “Fuck you” and gripped his drink tighter. Hannah dropped her head onto one of his shoulders, and Hunter’s hand dropped onto the other. Colby felt an electric current where Hunter’s fingers were brushing the side of his neck that shot straight down to his cock. And it made him want to die.

The photographer took a bunch of shots as Hunter’s fingertips roamed the back of Colby’s neck, brushing the ends of his hair near the back collar of his shirt. Colby had been growing it out again. The stylist flattened it and made it curl just a bit around the ends. It made him feel confident and sexy until now. Now he felt like a sad, pathetic loser. Somehow, Hunter was sucking away his confidence, like a vampire. As soon as the photographer took his last shot, Colby stormed off.

He had no idea where he was going, but he was getting the fuck away from Hunter Law. And Hannah, for that matter. Did she really think it was a smart idea to use Hunter in her next video? And did he really fucking say yes? Why? What the absolute fuck was he thinking? Colby moved through the crowded room, dodging furniture and people, gulping his drink as he moved away from the party.

He needed air and a fucking smoke and to be somewhere no one would talk to him. He should probably just leave. But he did want to be a friend for Kenner if he needed him. So instead, he moved toward the patio to find Kenner, but Hannah was there suddenly, holding his elbow and guiding him to the narrow doors on the opposite side of the room. On the other side was a winding path that led to the pool out back. He inhaled sharply as they stepped through the doors and onto the path.

The air was typical LA air—thick and scented with both jasmine and motor oil. He dug in his pocket for his cigarettes. Hannah had one of hers out of her little beaded bag and was holding it up to his lips before he could get his own, so he accepted. His lips went around the butt, and she flicked her lighter. He inhaled.

Closing his eyes, he tipped his head up to the sky and exhaled. He could hear murmured voices somewhere, maybe farther down the path, through the thick palms and tropical plants lining the way to the pool. They were essentially alone. “Thanks. Also, what the actual fuck, Han?”

“I warned you he was going to be here. And asking him was my manager’s idea. She saw him at the hotel today too, and it dawned on her that he would be perfect. And he is, Colby, I know you know that,” Hannah said and lifted her champagne glass to her lips. She took a dainty little sip. “I thought you two would be happy to see each other. You didn’t sound angry on the phone when I told you.”

Colby looked away and said nothing. Hannah squeezed his arm. “He’s on fire right now. His Instagram following has jumped to almost three freakin’ million since that movie came out. And those people are rabid, and they’ll watch my video. Plus it’s not hype, Colb. He’s gorgeous.”

“You wanted raw and vulnerable, not just hot.”

“Clearly you don’t see how he looks at you,” Hannah whispered seconds before taking another sip from her drink.

“Shut up,” Colby muttered, and Hannah’s lips lifted in a knowing smirk on the other side of her Marie Antoinette champagne glass. He shook his head and scowled at her harder.

“Why were you guys so mean to each other back there? You were basically in love.”

He took another long drag of his smoke and stared at a palm frond behind her. “We were friends.”

“Tell me you didn’t fuck him,” she whispered with excited eyes.

“I did not fuck him.” Colby glared at her.

Her face fell like she’d just lost a Grammy or something. It would be comical if Colby wasn’t trying to endure an emotional tornado. “Why can’t men be best friends without people being idiots?”

“I’m not an idiot,” Hannah replied, her voice uncharacteristically serious. “I might not be your fake girlfriend anymore, but I’m still your real friend. And I want you to be happy. Being around him used to make you happy. Now you look like someone poured quick-drying cement into your arteries.”

“It just made no sense anymore,” Colby answered and took a sip of his drink. There was nothing left now but melting ice and the chunk of lime. “We both had to focus on our careers. There was nowhere to go.”

“If you didn’t fuck, then there were lots of places left to go,” Hannah said with a small devious smile. He glared at her, which made her smile soften. She touched his hip. “Stop being stormy, Sunshine.”