Under the Lights (14 page)

“You think I don't?” I roll my eyes, thinking of all the burgers I used to put away with Ally at our favorite diner. “I work out every freaking day so I can eat and still be ‘LA thin.' Or almost LA thin, I guess.” I pinch at
the tiny bit of love handle I can never seem to get rid of.

She whacks my hand, making me yelp. “Stop that,” she demands as I rub my injured paw, making sure she didn't chip a nail. “You're crazy if you think your body is anything less than perfect.”

I open my mouth to argue, but something about the look in her eyes makes me shut it. Like…she believes what she's saying. About every single part.

Instead, I say, “Well, I think the same about you.”

And the thing is, I mean it. I like that she's built that way, all gentle curves. In a town of zero percent body fat, it's nice to see a little softness.

“Oh, shut up,” she says, but her voice falters a bit. Because without meaning to—without even realizing I was doing it—I've placed my palm on her tiny little tummy.

What the hell am I doing?

“It's true,” I say, quickly pulling my arm back, though it does nothing to dissipate the heated tingle on my skin.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, stretching her lips into a thin, grim smile for just a second. “Um, I should go shower. I'm pretty gross right now.”

She isn't, but I don't think my being an even bigger creeper is a great idea right now. “Yeah, me too.” I hitch my yoga mat higher on my shoulder, but I can't let her go just yet. I need to get my stupid, embarrassing tummy touch out of her head. “So, um, got any fun weekend plans?”

“Not really.” She shrugs. “Maybe hanging out with some friends from high school. But probably just helping my mom. She doesn't believe weekends are days off.”

I already knew that well about Jade. In fact, I have a meeting with her and Zander bright and early on Saturday to discuss the whole purity pledge thing, how it would go down, whether we'd be giving any exclusives on the story.

I really, really hope Brianna knows nothing about that meeting.

“Cool,” I say with a nod. And then an awkward silence descends, and I know it's time to let her go. “So, I guess I'll see you next Thursday.”

I hope she'll say something about hanging out before then, but all she says is, “Same time, same place. And probably the same T-shirt. Washed, of course.”

All I can do is nod again. God, I'm pathetic. I even debate mentioning Josh's party tomorrow night, but inviting her out after that seems even weirder. She clearly wants to get away from me right now, and I don't blame her.

So I step back and watch her go.

I thought this was a small party.” I turn around to see Holly sizing up the packed bar. The crowd at my wrap party for
Daylight Falls
is admittedly a little bigger than I was expecting, thanks to everyone bringing a few guests, but I've always been a “the more, the merrier” kinda guy. Especially when “more” refers to the amount of cleavage being shown off by Carly Upton's roommate.

“This is like half the number I had here for my last one,” I tell her for no good reason other than I'm already a little drunk.

She sighs and grabs a flute of champagne off a passing tray.

Whatever. She's always been a little bit of a killjoy. But the food smells awesome—I'm having it catered by my favorite Korean barbecue place—and I'm looking forward to the fact that it'll be a pretty chill evening, as far as parties at my place go. Not that I'd ever admit it to anyone, but I actually liked working on
Daylight Falls
, being surrounded by people all day, even hanging out with K-drama. It was almost worth getting up at the ass-crack of dawn not to spend every day hanging out by myself or with my idiot friends.

Speaking of my idiot friends.
My phone buzzes with a text from Liam that he'll be late. Shocker. The guy's
barely surfaced to breathe, let alone party. I don't know how the hell he went from doing a couple of modeling gigs to being in every project under the sun, but suddenly, he is
everywhere
—on every entertainment website, blog, show, and front page, the new fucking golden boy of Hollywood.

And, predictably, he hates it.

Ungrateful bastard.

He's missing out now, though, if I may say so myself. The pool area is full, the music's playing, and the sounds of meat sizzling on the grill and drinks being poured are all combining with it to make my perfect soundtrack. If I were the sentimental type, I'd think I was actually a little sad about the fact that this would be the last
Daylight Falls
gathering at my place, at least until hell freezes over and Liam wins an Emmy for playing Tristan Monroe.

It's definitely smaller and more chill than my usual parties, but it's nice, just relaxing and eating and drinking and talking with our feet dangling in the pool. I'm actually enjoying myself for what feels like the first time in a really long time.

Which is, of course, when Chuck and a couple of cameramen come fuck it up.

I jump up the second I see the scrawny bastard and rush up into his face. “I told you already. Nobody wants to be on your piece-of-shit show. You may be able to set foot on my property because of my psycho-bitch mother, but you're not getting any of my guests on film. Unlike that famewhore, these people are on a show viewers actually give a damn about.”

Chuck just grins. “Why don't we ask them?”

And people think
I'm
a douche. But fine. Chuck wants to have his ass handed to him by Jamal and the
other guys—let him. Maybe that'll get rid of him once and—

“Dude, what the hell?”

I whirl around and see Grant Rabar and Marco Barone glaring at us. The scent of pot is heavy enough in the air that I can tell exactly why they're not thrilled to see cameras on them.
Fucking Marsha.
“You're filming us?” Grant spits.

“
No
.” I know if I put a hand on Chuck or any of the cameramen, they'll sue the shit out of me; that's exactly what bloodsucking motherfuckers like them do. “These guys were just getting out of here.
Now
.”

The camera guys, of course, are loving every second of this, and my blood boils in my veins at the thought of them airing it, even with everyone's faces blurred out. I turn back to Chuck. “Dude, you
seriously
need to get out of here before I call the cops.”

He snorts. “For what? We've got permission from the
owners
to be here.” He motions for one of the camera guys to come even closer, and I can hear the rest of the crowd starting to take notice of their presence now. Bottles are quickly being tossed by the underagers, and I'm sure baggies of all kinds are being shoved into pockets. All I want is to physically drag Chuck out on his ass, and then have Ronen run over him a few times for good measure before driving me to my parents' house to blow up at my mother.

“Dude.” Royce walks over, shaking his head.

I'd thrown out a few extra invites to the guys, but they're the last people I want to see right now, especially because I'm pretty sure they're all high.

“Can you call Liam?” I ask him impatiently. “Tell him to get his ass over here. I don't care what shit's clogging up his schedule today.” I need someone who's
more level-headed than I am. I'm just barely sober enough to keep from losing my shit completely.

“Everything okay, sweetie?”

What the—
oh for the love of Christ. I look down at the bright-red talons digging into my arm and the long, tanned fingers they're attached to. I used to know that hand very, very well, and now the sight of it is just pissing me off. “Jesus, Shannah, you're like a walking STD—we fucked and now I can't get rid of you.”

“Wow, charming much, Josh?” Even with her snotty tone, Shannah's still latching on like a viper. Her career must be going even shittier than mine for her to reach desperation levels like these. I'd heard rumors the family sitcom she's been on for years is ending this season, and this is as good a confirmation as any.

“Why would I bother being charming with you, Shannah? Been there and very literally done that. I can't believe you've actually sunk this low.”

“Are you kidding?” She flashes chemically whitened teeth that glow against her orange skin. Did I really find this chick hot once upon a time? “I'm getting paid to make your life hell,” she says, covering up the mic I now see wired into her bikini top. “What more could I possibly ask for?”

I slide my hand on to hers, letting it look like a gesture of affection for just long enough to ensure the cameras will zoom in to catch it, and then I yank her hand off the mic. “You're the one who screwed around on
me
, remember?”

Seeing her cheeks turn bright red is pretty gratifying, but she doesn't give up so fast. She never has. “I know we've had our problems, but I'm willing to work on them. You know that.”

Christ, I can't even with this shit right now. Meanwhile, the people I actually
want
to stick around are bailing at warp speed, and I'm feeling like the biggest douchebag in Malibu right now, which is always an accomplishment.

My eyes dart around, and I'm relieved when I finally spot someone I know will be on her best behavior as long as there are cameras around. “K-dr—Vanessa!” She looks up, completely confused. At least I know she's not high. “C'mere.”

She casts a quick, annoyed glance at Shannah—pretty sure she hasn't been a fan since Shannah was a total bitch to Ally at one of my parties last year—and walks over. She doesn't even have a drink to put down first. Such a good girl.

“What's up, Josh?” She looks at Chuck, the cameras. “What's…happening here?”

I wrench out of Shannah's grasp and pull Vanessa at least far enough away that they won't catch our voices on camera. Shannah might be wearing a mic, but I'm not. “My mother's been so kind as to invite these gentlemen to my private party. I will give you a billion dollars to get them the fuck out of here.”

She raises an eyebrow. “What makes you think I'd be able to do that?”

“I have no idea. But Ally would be able to, and you're the closest thing I've got since my asshole best friend checked out on me. Come on. I'm sure some men find you vaguely attractive, in a boy-chested kind of way. Go charm them.” Sparks shoot from her eyes. Whoops. “I mean…”

“Oh, shut up,” she mutters. “God, I can't wait to figure out what you can actually do for me so I can collect on all the damn favors you ask.” Then she steps
away from me and walks over to Chuck. Miraculously, in under five minutes, they're gone.

“What the hell did you say to them?” I demand, keeping one eye on Shannah, who's dancing over to Zoe Knight rather than leaving with Chuck and Co. “And was it too much to ask to get rid of her, too?”

“I'm not a miracle worker,” she says dryly. “I told them if they left, I'd make sure they got a
much
better show tomorrow night, with complete cooperation from you and everyone who came with you, to whatever club they choose. And yes, I'm sure you can expect to see Shannah there, causing even more drama. If you let her, and you actually let them make an insane episode for once, they'll start listening to you a whole lot more than your mother.” She shakes her head. “Of course it never even occurred to you to play ball with them, you idiot. It's not like
they
care about your mom. You're the reason she got the show in the first place.”

“So now I'm going to a club tomorrow night, but I can't drink anything?”

“They don't care if you drink, Josh,” she says, like I'm a total idiot. “They won't show that if you make the rest good enough. Just…put on a show. It's what you love doing, anyway.”

“Not the worst point in the world,” I concede. “Thanks, K-drama. Now I'm actually feeling kinda glad I was a nice guy and invited your little friend.”

Her mouth twists into a frown. “You invited Zander?”

“No, not him. You told me he was already coming. Which…” I turn and look around the pool area. “He doesn't seem to have done.”

“Then which friend?”

Guess she doesn't wanna talk about the boyfriend. “Mini-Jade. You guys are friends, right?”

I hadn't thought she'd had anything to drink yet, but suddenly she looks like she's gonna puke. “You invited Bri? Here? Tonight?”

“Yeeeeah. Is that bad? I thought I was being nice. I bumped into her at the Coffee Bean on Sunset earlier and mentioned that you'd be here. Haven't seen her, though.”

She presses her lips together in a thin line, and I have no idea what's going through her head right then, but she looks…pissed?

“Can you just
not
interfere with my life for five seconds?” she spits. “You don't have to go around inviting
my
friends to stuff, okay?”

“What the hell? How are you possibly twisting this into my being a dick? I didn't realize you apparently hate the chick. So sue me.” Christ, I've had enough drama for the night. Now that Chuck and the cameramen are gone, I need another drink.

“Whatever, Josh. Next time, just…mind your own business. I only came so I wouldn't be the only one from the show who was obviously missing, but since even your ‘best friend' doesn't wanna be here, I don't see why I have to be.” She flags down a passing waiter, grabs an appletini shot from his tray, and tosses it back. “If you'll excuse me, I have to…talk to anyone who's not you.” She thrusts the glass into my hands, and, completely and totally speechless, I just watch her disappear.