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I pulled my hair out of the way while Wyatt slid the zipper closed. My skin was still sensitive from the night before, and I was overly aware of the fabric brushing against my skin as I moved. It felt nice.
I could get used to this, I thought.
Isaac had dressed in the other room and he held the door open for Wyatt and me as we made our way downstairs. The restaurant was on the third floor and as soon as we walked out of the elevator, we were surrounded by the aroma of bacon, toast, coffee, and dozens of other smells I couldn’t identify.
“This is even better than the movie set,” I said, as I picked up a warm plate and eyed the cabinets full of cooked food.
“This is one of those days where I’d love to have a regular job so I didn’t have to stay in shape,” Wyatt said, and lifted his shirtto show his abs. “I could eat as much as I liked if I worked in an office.”
“If you worked in an office, you couldn’t afford to eat like this,” Isaac countered. “My sister does admin for a major telecommunication company, and she couldn’t afford to stay here.”
“Still.” Wyatt looked wistfully at the piles of food in front of us. “Just imagine doing this every day.”
I certainly could.
I walked along the cabinets, taking note of everything before choosing what to eat: two slices of toast, poached eggs, bacon, beans, spinach, and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. I found a table near the window that overlooked the street and was so hungry that I ate without waiting for the others.
“Sorry,” I said with my mouth full as Isaac sat next to me. He raised his eyebrows, and I swallowed. “I couldn’t wait.”
“Understandable.” He sliced into a cooked tomato that oozed juice over his plate. Wyatt joined us next, placing a stack of pancakes with berries and bananas in front of him.
“Looks like you don’t care about those abs after all,” I joked, as I jabbed one of his banana slices with my fork and popped it into my mouth. Wyatt shrugged and gave me a sexy grin.
“I have a feeling we’ll find a way to burn these off.”
“Not today,” Isaac said. “I’ve arranged for the driver to pick us up when we finish breakfast.”
I sighed and nudged the food around on my plate. I’d had an amazing night and the idea of going back to the movie set, to the reality that Brooke was trying to steal my job and sabotage my career, wasn’t something I was looking forward to.
The rest of the world might forget about those articles overnight, but there was no way that I could.
34
DEAN
When Wyatt asked me if I was okay with him pursuing Kyla, I said yes.
What else was I supposed to do? My publicist, Tonia, had made itveryclear that I couldn’t be with Kyla again, even in private, and it wasn’t like I owned her. As far as I was concerned, she was free to date whoever she liked, and Wyatt seemed like a good guy.
But it hurt. Seeing them together when the memory of how it felt to be inside Kyla was so vivid was harder than I’d expected. The smallest moments of intimacy were the hardest — her hand brushing against his, the inside jokes, the glances and smiles.
God, I missed that. And more than that, I missed doing those things withher.
I’d been with almost every woman in Hollywood, but Kyla was different, and the fact that I couldn’t have her only added to her allure. She was sweet and kind; she worked hard, and she was naturally beautiful. There was none of the fakeness that I normally saw, no desperate climb to the top of the industry, no sleazy exchange of her body for roles.
And that’s why, as soon as I saw the gossip article claiming that she’d slept with Preston to win the role of Daisy, I knew it wasn’t true.
“What’s that?” Brooke asked and grabbed my phone out of my hands. We were having breakfast at a cafe, sitting at a table out the front despite the blistering heat of the sun, so we could be seen by anyone passing by. She’d spent the entire meal ignoring me, but the pictures of Kyla must have sparked her attention.
She lifted her designer sunglasses away from her eyes to read the article and her long fake nails made tapping sounds on my phone as she scrolled.
“I knew it… that bitch!”
“It’s not true,” I said.
Brooke gave me a withering look. “You know what they say. Where there’s smoke…” She angled the straw in her smoothie to her unnaturally plump lips and sucked pink liquid through it.
“That’s only you. And only because you do so much stupid shit that nobodyneedsto make up stories.”
