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Rick’s standing there, his gaze narrowed on me. He opens his mouth, and I shake my head. "Not right now."
"You don’t deserve her," he snaps.
I laugh. "You’re preaching to the converted."
I stalk toward the jet, intent on embarking it and flying the fuck out of here. Still, I’m not so distracted that I don’t hear the tap of her footsteps behind me. I turn just as she throws herself at me. I catch her, swing her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist. "Don’t go. Please, don’t go. Don’t do this."
I push my forehead into hers. "I have to."
"You don’t have to do anything. You don’t have to choose this way of life.” She swallows. “You can stay here with me, Declan. You can make that choice.”
And I almost do. I almost say 'fuck off' to the movie shoot and damn the consequences. Almost. As I look into her tear-filled eyes, my heart stutters. My stomach ties itself in knots. I lower my forehead to hers, and for a few seconds, we look into each other’s eyes.
In that moment, I know, if I decide to stay, my life will change. Everything I’ve worked for, all of the challenges I’ve overcome, will be for nothing. And… I can’t do that. And I can't take her with me. It would destroy her burgeoning career, and I can't do that to her. This is her dream. Besides, I’m not the man for her. I’m not the person she thinks I am. I’m not the younger version of myself she met all those years ago. The one she’s never forgotten. The one she’s in love with. I’ve changed. And so has she. And she needs to understand that.
"I choose—”You.My voice cracks. A ball of emotion blocks my throat. I manage to swallow it away, then firm my shoulders. “I—” I swallow. “I choose to leave."
I lower her to her feet and take a step back. As I straighten, I see the intent in her eyes, see her raise her arm. And this time, I have no intention of stopping her. Because I deserve it. Her palm connects with my face the same time as a flashbulb goes off.
"Motherfucker."
I feel her palm print on my cheek, and a sliver of pain threads through my blood. I welcome it. I deserve her hate. I deserve her slapping me. And so much more.
I step around her and close the distance to the pap who continues to click away. Fucking feeders of the lowest order. I grab his camera from his hand and raise it, intent on smashing it on the tarmac.
The man yells as Rick grabs my arm. "Don’t, man. You’ll only make it worse."
The journo’s lips twist. "Lover’s quarrel, huh?"
"Fuck off."
His grin widens. "Is that your comment?"
"Oh, I have a comment for you." I grab his collar with my free hand, haul him close to my face and snarl, "Come near her again, and I swear, I’ll kill you."
39
Solene
"Whew, the two of you are catnip for social media," Harry glances up at me from his phone.
I glance out the window of the plane. Not a private jet, but a commercial airliner, though we’re flying business. Harry'd mentioned to me it was only a matter of time before I'd get upgraded to first. In all honesty, it doesn’t matter to me that much. I’m just glad to be out of LA, and the house that reminds me so much of him.
After Declan threatened the pap, the man claimed he’d sue Declan for assault. Declan laughed in his face. Then shoved the camera at his chest, before he pivoted and stalked past me to the waiting jet. He avoided me completely. Pretended I wasn't there.Stronzoblanked me. He threatened the pap and told him to stay away from me. Then, he didn't have the decency to say goodbye before he got on the plane, which subsequently taxied down the runway and took off.
The pap continued taking photographs of me until I threw myself into the back of the car. The tears began flowing down my face before I could completely shut the door, and that, along with the one of me slapping him and the one with my legs wrapped around his waist, are the ones being splashed across the media.
Rick drove me to Abby’s place, and the two of us proceeded to get stinking drunk. For me, it didn't take much. She, wisely, didn't share any of the social media pictures with me. The next morning, I managed to make it to the airport, driven by a silent Rick who told me Declan had arranged for a private plane to take me back to LA. I almost refused to get on it, but given I needed to be back for meetings with the label, I decided to accept the gesture. For now.
In all honesty, I’ve given up trying to understand the rationale behind the man’s actions. I slept most the way back to LA, then met up with Harry the next morning. The rest of the day was taken up with meetings with labels. I hoped our pictures would stop circulating online by the next day, but apparently, twenty-four hours later we're still headline news.
"I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but this on-again, off-again relationship theme, is fucking amazing PR." Harry nods in my direction.
He’s been briefing me about the rest of the meetings he’s set up for me.
"Is it, though?” I bounce my sneaker-clad feet on the floor. “Am I not being seen as simply another pretty face and a Hollywood star’s girlfriend?"
"Any PR is good PR." His tone is serious. "Also, this way, your face continues to be in the news, which is going to be amazing for when your record drops."
