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“Where are you this week?”my mother asked, sounding genuinely curious instead of just going through the motions like my dad did.
“I’m taking a break for two months. We just finished filming,” I said, hoping Henna didn’t walk upstairs.
My mother didn’t like her, and I didn’t exactly blame her. Henna had been featured in the most dubious tabloids over the last few years. She was snarky, rude, and fit every stereotype that existed about rich heiresses behaving like spoiled, entitled brats. I was only with her because those were the kind of women I liked; I knew what I was getting with them. No surprises, no expectations.
“A break? That’s wonderful…any chance you might head this way during some of that time?” My mother tried to play it off as though it wasn’t a big deal to her, but I knew she cared very much whether I came to visit. I tried to go back home every chance I got, which lately hadn’t been often. In fact, it had been at least ten months since I last saw them in person.
“Actually, I’m coming there for a little visit. Just a week or so, but, uh…Henna is coming with me,” I added gently, so she knew we wouldn’t be staying with them. I wanted to, but since Henna already insisted on tagging along with me on this break, I knew it wouldn’t be possible.
“Oh…” She trailed off.
I appreciated that she didn’t blow smoke up my ass about how Henna was welcome and all that. We both knew Henna wasn’t welcome there, which was fine by me; I didn’t want her around the two people who were most important to me. I liked Henna just fine, but I thought of her more as a sexy, very temporary roommate. We weren’t even technically dating, just ‘seeing each other,’ nonexclusively, which was another reason my mother didn’t like her. She always said any woman who was willing to share me wasn’t worth keeping around.
“It’s fine, Mom. We’ll stay somewhere close and I’ll come visit you as much as I can.”
“Okay, sounds good. I’ll tell your dad.” My mom laughed softly, and I could nearly feel that soft sound in my bones from how many times she’d made it in my life.
“See you in about a week.” I hung up, tossing my cell into a nearby chair.
Looking out my window, I shoved my hands into my sweatshirt. It was technically the middle of summer, but in Portland, Oregon, the temperature was often tempered by the clouds and rain that so often invaded our skies.
“Ryan?” Henna called for me, walking up the stairs, her off-the-shoulder black sweater dress swaying as she climbed them.
“In here.” I stayed glued to my spot, watching the vast forest outside my bedroom window.
“I made a reservation for us close to your parents.”
I turned, surprised that she’d do something so thoughtful.
“Where?” I walked over to her, pulling her into my chest and kissing her shoulder.
“Some place, I don’t know the name…Hawk something Resort…or something like that,” she said breathlessly.
Hawk Tail Resort wasn’t close to my parents; in fact, it was nearly forty minutes from them. I was hoping to be closer so I could go back and forth frequently. I supposed it didn’t really matter as long as Henna had something to do while I was visiting them.
“You don’t normally do that kind of thing. You always have someone do it for you—why the sudden change?” I asked, gently gripping her hip. Her hair was dark, thick, and…thewrong color.
Maybe it was time to switch things up with someone else. I had a few hook-ups I’d call to spend time with me, just like Henna. She was usually my summer connection. I knew saying something like that made me sound like a shallow prick, but it was just how I lived my life. I was always filming for several months out of the year and didn’t have a ton of time for a real relationship—nor did I ever want one again. If someone on set wanted a fling, I’d indulge as long as an NDA was signed.
But, more often than not, I’d find my steady hook-ups among A-listers, heiresses, and models. I had Lydia, who I saw when I was on the East Coast and usually in the fall. Samantha was more my winter hook-up; I saw her when I went to Aspen for vacation. Spring was usually spent with someone new, and then there was Henna, my longest-standing hook-up.
Two years on and off again I’d been with her. It confused anyone who stuck around long enough to care, but there weren’t many people in my life who did. My agents, my PA, my publicist, and, depending on the show, the director…but even then, those few people were limited. The only person who had been around long enough to care knew the score. My best friend, James—or Jack Hammer, as I called him—had known me since college and would check in from time to time to call me on my shallow-as-fuck bullshit lifestyle.
He’d had my back from the beginning when I signed on to an up-and-coming football drama for HitFlix. It was a shot in the dark after my short-lived football career in Seattle. Thinking back to my days playing pro football made the strangest sensation start up inside my chest, like an ache or a burn. I had been signed my junior year of college, giving up my degree to play in the PFA, also known as the Professional Football Association.
“I just wanted to help.” Henna hummed in my ear before nipping it with her teeth. I’d nearly forgotten she was even there or that I had asked her anything.
She never wanted to help, so I knew something was up, or she was planning something.
Her small hands wound their way down my waist while she marked my chest with her lips and teeth. My mind was still on that stinging sensation in my chest that started to flare to life, lingering on what had happened when I signed that football contract.
The devastation…
Before I knew what was happening, Henna was on her knees in front of me, tugging down my sweats.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” she whispered, looking up at me.
I watched, unsure if I should mention that I’d rather read my tax documents than have her blow me. If I told her that or shoved her off, it would be a nightmare dealing with her. I could just break this thing off and tell her to stay here or go somewhere else while I vacationed, but knowing her, I’d have to deal with some negative press piece about it and then deal with the backlash of photographers and the media sticking their nose into my business. I wouldn’t do that to my parents.
No, it was better to just put up with her for now, bide my time, and after I went to visit my parents and Henna got her vacation in, I’d tell her we were done.
Letting out a silent sigh, I shoved my hand into her hair and pulled her closer.
