Hollywood & Vine (16 page)

“What are you doing?” Anders lifted up on his elbows, his brows pulled together.

“I’m getting dressed, obviously.” Her voice had resumed the same edge she had in his trailer earlier.

Anders’ jaw ticked, his temper climbing. “Why?”

Josie sighed and turned to him. “Because we’re done. We did what you came here to do. What else is there?”

Anders reached for his boxers and yanked them on before jumping from the bed. “What are you doing right now, Ivy? Before you were fine, and now…now you’re right back to acting like you did this morning.” When she didn’t answer he crossed the room in three angry strides and grabbed her arms. “Look at me.”

Josie shoved away and backed toward the door. She tried to keep an indifferent expression, but her eyes told another story. They overflowed with hurt, anger, and fear. “I’m not acting different. I’m treating what happened exactly how I should—a means to an end.”

Anders clenched and unclenched his fists, his entire body taut with frustration. “Why do you keep fighting me? Why do you keep running away?”

Josie scoffed and shook her head. When she spoke again her loud, angry voice decimated the silence. “The better question here, Anders, is why do you keep chasing me?”

His features hardened and his temper soared. “I have no fucking idea.” He turned and grabbed his clothes from the floor, missing Josie’s flinch. When he turned around, she was gone. He shook his head and left the room. Nothing made sense. Not her, what happened, or how hollow he felt. As he reached for the front door, movement off to the side caught his attention. He turned and locked eyes with Josie for a moment before she looked away.

“Fuck this,” he muttered. Slamming the door, he stormed down the stairs and out into the street, none the wiser to the lone tear rolling down Josie’s cheek.

A
nders stripped out of his set clothes and draped them over the back of his chair. Running a hand through his hair, he looked around the room and sighed. It was quiet, peaceful, empty. More than a week had passed since he’d stormed out of Josie’s house, and she hadn’t come back for a fitting since. He wanted to demand she continue coming, but there was no point. He orchestrated that arrangement to sleep with her. There was no reason for her to be around anymore.

He’d seen her around the set a couple of times, but she was never looking. She acted like he didn’t exist. With a tired sigh, he dressed in his regular clothes. The last couple of days had been hell. Between long hours on set and the ass kicking from his personal trainer, he should have been sleeping like the dead, but he wasn’t. Memories he’d rather forget plagued his dreams, making him antsy and on edge.

Not in the mood to drive home, Anders hopped on the vanity counter and leaned against the mirror. With unfocused eyes, he stared across the room, tensing when he noticed a dying ivy plant. The wilting leaves served as yet another reminder of how many days had passed since last seeing Josie.

Annoyed that the mere sight of a harmless plant bothered him, Anders made a decision. He needed to blow off steam, take some time to forget about long hours, hard workouts, and a feisty girl who would argue with a tree stump. The beep of his phone reminded him of an earlier text from Owen. A night out was exactly what he needed to get back in the game. With a nod, he made plans to meet Owen later.

Around ten thirty that night, Anders sat at a familiar table, in a familiar bar, surrounded by a scene he knew all too well. Loud voices and drunken laughter echoed around the room as he downed another drink. The redhead to his right smiled slyly as she rubbed his thigh. He didn’t stop her. This was who he was, and he’d make no apologies.

Owen studied Anders over the top of his beer and grinned, his eyes glassy and drooping. “You fucked her.”

“Who?” Anders tried to sound nonchalant. Owen laughed.

“You know damn well who. Come on. Tell me. You wouldn’t be here, and with her, otherwise.” Owen motioned to the girl next to Anders.

“Of course I fucked her,” he scoffed. The memory caused his stomach to tighten.

“Well, shit, man. I expected you to be, I don’t know, less”
―
Owen waved his hand at Anders face
―
“whatever the fuck this new brooding thing is you have going on. I never pegged you for a brooder. What’s the deal?”

“Work,” Anders answered. “It’s kicking my ass. And I didn’t mention it because last time I checked I had a dick.”

“Whoa, no need to get pissed. I’m just waiting for you to act normal.”

Anders glanced at the girl next to him before reaching over and trailing a path up her inner thigh to the edge of her panties. “I am normal. This is one hundred percent me right now.”

Owen hummed and raised his drink. “Whatever you say.”

The rest of the night Anders ignored the part of his mind that wondered what Josie was doing. Instead, he focused on the redhead as she stroked him under the table. With each stroke his pounding pulse muted the voices of the crowd until he tensed and came all over her hand. When she suggested moving the party to her place, nothing appealed to him less.

“Nah, I’m good, but thanks for that.” He motioned to his lap and smirked before fastening the button.

“You’re an asshole.” Embarrassment and anger colored her face as she used a napkin from the table to wipe her hand.

“That’s the rumor.” He laughed without a trace of humor. The last time someone called him that, it had a completely different effect. The girl pushed away from the table and flung the napkin. It bounced off his chest and fell to the floor as she stormed off.

“What was that about?”

Anders shrugged. “Nothing. I’m going to take off. We’ll catch up later.” Not bothering to wait for Owen to argue, Anders threw some cash on the table and walked out of the club. A strange mix of guilt and regret settled on his chest and caused his muscles to tighten. Even after a shower, the feelings lingered. He blamed Josie. All of this was her fault.

With a flick of his wrist, Anders turned off the lamp and crawled into bed. Even though his body sagged with fatigue, his mind refused to rest. Unable to ignore the reason for his sleepless nights any longer, he reached for his phone and pulled up the messages from Josie. His anger rose as the memory of their last conversation replayed in his mind. While he might have gotten what he wanted, something didn’t sit right. She obviously lied about believing him and he wanted to know why.

The cursor blinked in the Google search box as he typed out his name. As soon as the page loaded, he understood. To anyone outside of Hollywood, the pictures attached made the bullshit article appear credible. Josie should have known better. Again, he wondered why she cared if he was with someone else. The last time they spoke, she made her feelings about their relationship crystal clear.

He shook his head. There was no relationship. They weren’t even friends. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her or how bothered he was that she believed he lied. Sure, he’d lied before, but this was different. For whatever messed up reason, he missed seeing and talking to her. She was a smart-ass with a quick temper and stubborn as hell, but strange as it was, those were things he liked about her. He wondered if they could be friends.

“Right,” he muttered. Opening his text messages again, he stopped fighting what he’d wanted to do from the beginning.

Hey.

Josie bobbed to the beat of the music blaring through the headphones and studied the drawing on the paper. It was after one in the morning, but after spending most of the day going over a new script, the design ideas were flowing. She reached for a glass of water on the table, but paused when the screen of her phone lit with a notification.

With furrowed brows, she removed the headphones and killed the music. No one texted at this time of night except Anders. The moment the thought entered her mind she tried to wipe it away, but it was too late. His name hung in the air like the blade of a guillotine.

Like Anders, Josie had spent the week battling her own feelings of guilt and regret. Guilt for the way she’d handled the situation. She’d treated Anders as he treated everyone else, and regardless of whether he deserved it, she cheapened herself to prove a point.

Josie’s parents always told her to trust her instincts, but she didn’t listen. No matter how many warning bells told her to walk away, she thought she could handle him. She never imagined having any kind of emotional response to him where anger wasn’t the motivating factor. Somewhere along the way, though, Anders had gotten under her skin. Avoiding him on the set was almost impossible. She was always aware of his presence. His gaze made her skin prickle and her breathing accelerate.

Even now, her heart beat a little faster when she realized the text was from Anders. Not wanting to dwell on it any longer, she tossed the phone on the table. He was probably drunk, and she was done being a pawn in his game. When it came to Anders Ellis, she was out of her league.

T
he following day, in the heat of the late afternoon sun, Anders stalked across the lot toward his trailer. The combination of his late night activities and hellish day on set had his temper balancing on a knife’s edge. Not to mention, he never heard back from Josie. Sure he was being presumptuous, but none of that mattered. He didn’t like being ignored.

Agitation caused his teeth to clench until his jaw ached. He didn’t understand what had changed over the course of the last week, but staying away from her took more energy than chasing her. The level of annoyance this revelation created was astronomical.

“Fuck it.” Tired of her avoidance and the obsession it created, he changed direction and headed toward the costume department. With his hands shoved into his pockets and his trademark cocky confidence, he sauntered down the hall. Music floated through the speakers as he approached a set of conference rooms. One of the doors stood ajar, and when he peeked inside, he spotted Josie on the other side of a long table. Sucking in a deep breath, he knocked on the frame twice.

Josie looked up, her eyes widening. He pushed his hand back into his pocket and crossed one leg in front of the other. “Hey.”

Josie sat unmoving, the sight of him standing in the doorway, the picture of calm, rendered her speechless. When she didn’t respond, Anders shifted, his defenses kicking up. Seeking her out was a dumb idea. They would never have a conversation like normal people. He scoffed and pushed off the door. He wasn’t going to look like a fool. “Whatever.”

He turned to leave, the movement causing Josie to find her voice. “What do you want?”

“Wow. Is that how people greet each other these days? Looks like I need to brush up on my social skills.” Even though he was annoyed with the sharp tone in her voice and the hostility of her question, his shoulders relaxed. As weird as it sounded, sparring with her created an odd sense of familiarity that wasn’t unwelcome.

“I wasn’t aware that ‘let’s have coffee and fuck’ was an acceptable greeting either, but it seems to work well for you.”

Anders smiled and walked into the room, falling into the chair across from Josie. She didn’t have to invite him in; her smart-ass response was all the invitation he needed. “It does, doesn’t it?”

“Oh my God,” Josie sighed, dropping her pen on the desk. “What do you want, Anders?”

He leaned back and studied her face. The skin under her eyes seemed a little darker, her posture slumped. “Are you sick?”

“What? No, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look so hot.” He knew the moment he spoke she was about to tear into him. “Wait.” He held up his hands to ward off her verbal assault. “I mean you look tired, and no, I don’t mean by tired you look like shit. We both know I’d tell you if that was the case. Just, fuck. Are you okay?”

“Are you high?” It was the only response she had for the rambling man sitting across from her.

“No, I’m not high. Jesus Christ.” He blew out a breath and wiped his palms down the front of his pants.

“Then why are you here?” Josie clasped her hands and twisted her fingers together to distract herself. As much as she willed her mind to stay in the present, memories of the last time they were alone together came rushing back.