The helicopter blades droned on and a soldier, that was doing his best to not cry, was telling me that I was the sole survivor of Serpent Team—that twelve other soldiers were dead and I was the only one, besides the school children we'd been sent to rescue, that had made it out of that hell on earth alive.
Another camera flash pulled me out of the recollection.
I blinked, as if dazed. Suddenly, Aubrey’s voice was at my ear. She smelled good and her breath on my ear and neck was just enough to bring me around. While I had no real interest in her, I was, after all, just a man.
“
Are you okay?” she asked, looking up into my eyes with worry etched into her beautiful and polished face.
I stared at her for a moment, attempting to regain my composure and bearings. I glanced around at the massive crowds then back to her, slowly shaking my head. “No. I don’t... I don’t know what it is. I just need to get out of here.”
She said nothing, but she did her best to save me from whatever was happening. I smiled politely at the cameras as I walked briskly down the remainder of the red carpet. Aubrey was giving the cold shoulder to reporters in a polite and sexy way that only young actresses were capable of. It was the first time I could ever remember being impressed with anything about her aside from her acting talents and her body.
The people and the flashing lights passed by in a blur as Aubrey led me to the street. Our hands were interlocked and I found myself squeezing hers for reassurance. I focused on her dress, on her curves, and wondered what was wrong with me. I was pretty sure that any other actor in Hollywood—as well as millions of men worldwide—would give up anything to be holding hands and whisked away into a limo with Aubrey Henning. But, despite her sudden poise and heroics, I really wished I hadn’t asked her to come with to the premiere with me. It made me feel irresponsible and, quite honestly, ungrateful for the life I was living.
Lost in my own self-pity, the limo was there before I knew it. Aubrey went inside first, waving to the crowd. I gave my own little wave and then stepped in after her.
Once the door was closed, I nearly collapsed back against the seat. My breathing was heavy and labored and I realized that I was sweating.
“
God, Devlin,” Aubrey said feeling my forehead with the back of her hand. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“
Don’t call me that,” I said with a lazy grin on my face. “My name is Jack.”
“
What?” She gave me a crazy look, twisting her head in such a way it reminded me of a confused little puppy.
I laughed at this for a moment. Then, for no reason I could clearly identify, the laughter turned into a sound bout of weeping. I hated myself for doing it, but I leaned over to Aubrey, found her shoulder, and let it out.
I was dimly aware of Aubrey telling the driver to take us back to the hotel. After that, the night passed by through the limo windows and I watched the lights of New York pass by like a bored child.
2—Devlin
Two hours later, I was having what I suppose was some sort of identity crisis. It wasn’t a mid-life crisis by any stretch of the imagination. I was only thirty-two. It was too early for that, at least I thought. Still…there was something going on inside of my heart that felt like two kids playing tug of war with their favorite blanket.
I stood at the hotel window, in nothing but my black boxer briefs, with a bottle of red wine in my hand. I had decided to go without the glass after after I finished the first one too quickly. It was the second bottle of Pinot Noir Aubrey and I had opened and, truth be told, she hadn’t gotten much of either. I had drank enough to try to clear my head and then, finding that the drinking only cluttered it, continued drinking in the hopes of making more sense of it.
It hadn’t worked so far.
Behind me, Aubrey was in the bed. She was dressed in one of those satin nighties that wasn’t quite so provocative as to be called lingerie, but it was sure as hell several steps above a simple night gown. It was black, with lace fringes around the chest—which was cut very low – and the bottom—which was cut very high. A photographer could have walked into the room and made a fortune off of a photo shoot with Aubrey in that little piece. She was still wearing her makeup and her long dark locks looked absolutely perfect, like they always did, hanging around her face like soft, wavy curtains. Aubrey Henning was certainly a knock-out.
I took a pull from the wine and turned from the lights of New York to give her a lingering stare. The hell of it was, she wanted me. She had told me so three different times since we had gotten back to the room. I had almost given in. We had kissed for a good ten minutes. It had gotten heavy enough to the point where I had her pressed against the wall, she lost her shirt and I was down to my underwear.
But I managed to catch myself. As the night went on and I got slightly more inebriated, the thought of having sex with Aubrey started to seem more and more appealing. But I didn’t want her…not
really
. I wasn’t interested in her beyond her body. And that wasn’t how I was raised. I knew that Hollywood types often got a horrible stereotype about sleeping around and trashing relationships at every corner. I’d be damned if I was going to fall victim to it.
I faced back to the window to stare out into the vastness of the night, lifting the bottle of Pinot to my lips once more.
Aubrey’s last advance had come fifteen minutes ago. I turned her down as politely as I could, taking the bottle to the window and looking out at the New York skyline. I could see her in the reflection. Her long slender legs were exposed to almost her thigh. Her breasts might as well have been totally uncovered, as the nightie was tight but left very little to the imagination. She had taken to playing some game on her iPhone. It was hard to tell from the murky reflection in the window, but I thought she had a spoiled, almost pouty look on her face.
The TV was on, but neither of us were paying much attention to it.
That is, not until the late-night gossip show played footage form the premiere. It still blew my mind how fast the media worked when celebrities were involved. I looked to the screen and saw the five-second kiss that Aubrey and I had shared on the red carpet. The splash text that came racing across the bottom of the television screen read: NEW HOT COUPLE!
“
Jesus,” I groaned, my shoulders sagging.
“What?
I don’t see the problem,” she said with a delighted smile. “We look good together. Hell, it even looks like you’re
enjoying
that kiss.”
I shook my head, turning from the TV to look back out the penthouse window at vibrant New York City at night. It glittered like a thousand colored stars scattered about as far as the eye could see. I leaned a hand on the cool glass and stared passed my reflection. “I didn’t
not
enjoy it,” I shrugged.
“
Well... how about the kissing after we got here?” she asked, feigning innocence... but I knew what she was getting at.
“
Aubrey, it’s not going to happen.” I had another big gulp of the wine.
She frowned and went back to her phone. I looked the tv and watched them show the kiss over and over again. She was right; we
did
look good together. The photographers certainly thought so. The looks of awe on their faces and the annoying pop-pop-pop of the camera behind us was like some weird spectacle at a circus.
I lifted the Pinot to my lips and decided that I’d kill this one and open another. Aubrey was welcome to some if she wanted it. I tilted my head back and enjoyed the way the alcohol burned down my throat and the slight rocking sensation in my head as it did its work.
When I set the bottle back down, my phone rang. It was eleven thirty at night, meaning that it was my agent. Adam Parker didn’t sleep much. I was pretty sure he had not gone to bed before two in the morning anytime during his career.
I picked up the phone and answered it by simply saying “Hello”. In hearing my own slurred voice, I realized that I had a larger buzz than I thought.
“
Devlin,” he said, “so yeah, tell me about this kiss I’m seeing on TV. Was that your idea?”
“
No, that was all Aubrey.”
“
That girl is a genius! Can you even start to imagine the great press this is going to get you? This is awesome!”
“
Sure,” I said. Everything was always about the press. It seemed everyone in Hollywood only did things that would get the spotlight on them... no matter in good or bad light.
“Are you drunk? Never mind…
how long have you guys been seeing each other?”
“
We haven’t.” I could have gone on and told him about the suddenness of the kiss and how she was in my bed right now, hoping I’d come to her and have my way with her. But I didn’t feel like getting into that in my inebriated state.
“
Devlin, look…tomorrow morning, can you meet me for breakfast?”
“
Don’t know. I expect to be nice and hung over. Also… I think I’ll be going by Jack now.”
He paused... and I could hear his gears churning. “
Jack
? What the hell is that?”
“
What? You don’t like that idea?”
He sighed into the receiver. “Whatever man. Drink it off and call me when you can see and think clearly tomorrow.”
“
Sure,” I said and ended the call.
I looked at the iPhone for a moment, studying it in my hand like it was some weird artifact from another civilization. It made me think about a guy named Lester that I served with in Afghanistan. He’d had a Kindle app on his iPhone while we had served and he was always reading a book whenever we’d had down time.
Lester had been a member of Serpent Team. He had died on the day I managed to get out alive. I watched him get shot in the neck and then bleed out. I blinked hard at the memory.
I grit my teeth and pitched the stupid phone across the room. It struck the wall, where it left a nice dent before falling in pieces to the floor. I stared after it absently.
“
What the hell, Dev?”
I knocked back the rest of the bottle of wine and slowly walked to the bed. I cupped her face in my hands and brought her so close to me that our noses were touching.
“
Aubrey,” I started. “You are beyond beautiful and your talent is ridiculous. I am flattered and quite confused that you are interested in me. If I slept with you tonight, that would be the end of it. I don’t want you like that and, quite frankly, I don’t know why. I have some things going on in my head right now that make no sense. I’m tired of this life. I’m tired of myself. And the fact that you want me and show interest in me is the only thing that’s making me not drink myself into an absolute oblivion right now. Can you understand that?”
She was quiet for a moment, simply staring back at me, which was good. I tried to determine where the hell all of that had come from.
“
I thought that’s what it was,” she said. “We worked on those scenes together for a week or so and I got to know you, you know? You get this distant look in your eyes from time to time and you just sort of...
check out
.”
“
I know,” I said, pulling on a pair of jeans and a faded green t-shirt. I found my dog tags in the jacket pocket of my suit and threw them around my neck.
Old habits die hard.
“
Are you thinking about your time in the military when you blank out?”
“
Most of the time,” I said, sitting down hard on the bed next to her.
“
Is that what happened on the red carpet tonight? Were you thinking about it?”
I looked at her and blinked. Her huge blue eyes stared back at me with concern. She was being compassionate. Sometimes the girl surprised me. She wasn't near as narcissistic as most people thought.
I shook my head and glanced at the carpet. “It was more like a flashback tonight. It was... it wasn't good.”
“
I’m sorry,” she said and kissed the skin below my ear. She pulled me to her and I could feel her amazing breasts pressing into my back. When I noticed the eager response from my body, I I stood and stepped away as softly as I could.
“
The room is yours,” I said. “As for me, I’m going down to the bar, drink my weight in booze, and hopefully be able to stumble back up here and sleep it off.”
“
Devlin…”
I put a finger to her lush lips in a way that was supposed to be sweet but looked comical, even from my drunk ass view point. I kissed her forehead and stared hard at the mesmerizing starlet dressed in the tiny black nighty for a moment, fighting one last urge to give her what she wanted. I turned away with a sigh and without another word, walked out of the door.
****
The bar was pretty empty, which was good. It was hard for me to go anywhere and not be recognized. When it first happened, I was amused and thought I was important... but now, it was just old. I missed the allure of walking into a business or a bar or... whatever and not having anyone know who I was. People always wanted to pretend like I was their favorite actor, asking me dumb, meaningless questions about life in Hollywood.
Luckily, the hotel bar only held about ten patrons. I eyed the place through drunken eyes. From what I could tell, it was vaguely art-deco in that cool and hip New York style that was all the rage. Course, next week, they'd have to tear it all down and remodel to match the newest vogue look.
I walked to the far end of the bar, hidden in shadows and soft light. I took a seat and leaned into the cold bar top. I eyed the liquor on the wall and sighed. I’d never been a big drinker but the idea of drinking until all thoughts stopped running through my head was appealing.
The bar keeper walked over. If he recognized me, he didn’t let on.
“
Evening. What can I get you?” he asked.
“
A shot of tequila,” I said. “And stick around while I take it because I’m going to want a few beers to wash it down it. And I may bookend those with another shot.”
The man smiled at me, that hesitant smile all barkeepers have at the ready. “You got a room here?”
“
Upstairs. With a remarkable young lady in the bed. Remarkable and clearly confused.”
He chuckled and slid the shot over to me. I took it greedily, downing it and placed the glass gingerly back on the bar. The tender then slid me over a glass of amber beer that he had just poured. The head was still thick and creamy.
“
Let me know when you need that topped off.”
“
Yep.”