Chapter 36 Stevie #2
“I regret a hell of a lot of what happened.” Lex moves forward, grazing the backs of his fingers along my cheekbone, emotion heavy in his eyes. “But definitely not that.”
I tip my head back, eyelids fluttering.
Sighing through his nose, he steps away, his hand dropping from my face. “Get your bagels,” he murmurs, glancing down at the floor. “I’ll be in the shower.”
The air whooshes out of me when he stalks past, heading to the staircase. I part my lips to say something, to call after him, but again, my response is elusive. Impossible to catch.
My mouth snaps shut, sealing in invisible words and addled breaths.
Sleeping with him again would be complicated, and it’s already so complicated.
Right now, it can be written off as an unavoidable combustion of attraction and years’ worth of bottled-up feelings.
But doing it again would widen the door that’s already cracked.
One of us would be forced to slip through it… or slam it shut.
I can already hear the hinges rattling, the wood splintering.
We live at opposite ends of the world. Completely different spectrums. Regardless of his stance on Hollywood, Lex would never give all this up, everything he’s worked so hard for, to live a quiet life with me in the Midwest.
And me?
I don’t know if I fit here.
My skin is too frail, my heart too soft. While acting has always been my dream, I don’t know if I’m cut out for everything that comes along with it.
The audition with Maverick Ramirez skips across my mind as I throw on a sweatshirt, slip on my sneakers, and make my way out the door. The streets are already filling with people in snazzy ties and prim pencil skirts, gearing up for another workday.
Maverick was kind and encouraging. The audition was cathartic and fun.
And yet my soul didn’t feel fulfilled. It wasn’t the same feeling I had standing on a stage years ago, music coursing through my veins, the audience alive with awestruck wonder.
It was a little stale. Stiff.
Dare I say…
Underwhelming.
I’m zoned out as I order two toasted bagels with cream cheese and a pair of iced coffees. A couple sit in a corner booth, sending curious glances my way. I smile at them, and the woman’s eyes light up before she goes back to her breakfast.
Rain sneaks from the clouds in a gentle mist. The sky is a dusky blue, sunrise over an hour away.
I push through the glass doors with my tray of coffees and a paper bag of bagels.
Car horns blare in the distance, tires skidding past me through slow-growing puddles.
My mood is aligned with the weather in Los Angeles today.
Dreary, downcast, and uncertain. The rainfall doesn’t pick up, only offering a mild drizzle, just enough to dampen my skin and infuse my hair with humidity.
As my thoughts climb and churn, I hear my name called.
“Stevie St. James!”
Blinking, I whirl around, squinting through the fog. A man races toward me in an inky duster, rain boots, and a Rams baseball cap. Camera equipment is draped across his shoulder.
I quickly turn back around and pick up my pace, the bag crumpling in my grip.
“Miss St. James, wait up!”
“No questions, please.”
Flashbulbs go off in my periphery. Coffee and ice cubes slosh around in the tray, my legs gaining traction as I approach the condominium.
“Stevie! Just one shot—or how about a comment on the real reason you’re back in town?” His voice grates like nails on crystal, the relentless snapping of his camera an overbearing invasion.
I grit my teeth, body tensing as I break into a jog. “I said no questions.”
He’s hot on my heels, panting like a predator champing at the bit. “The public has a right to know, don’t you think? Is this all a publicity stunt? Are the rumors true about Lexington Hall and his costar, Willa Farrow? Are they sleeping together?”
My pulse fires, heart thrashing against my ribs as the door to the condominium finally comes into view.
A hand curls around my bicep.
I shriek, a moment of panic sinking into me. The drink tray collapses at my feet, coffee sluicing across my sneakers. “Please, don’t touch me.”
His eyes are dark and eager as they filter into my sight line, pockmarks carving holes in his cheeks. The camera lifts, flashes blinding me.
Raising both hands in front of my face, I swivel around him.
The man jumps in front of me, blocking my path. “Come on, give us the juice. Is it a love triangle? Are you jealous? Are you—”
“Leave me alone!” Terror courses through me as I dodge him, shoving at his shoulder and making a break for it. That’s when the toe of my sneaker catches on a sidewalk crack. It’s a theatrical fast-motion plummet to the pavement, and I don’t even have time to brace myself.
My palms slam down first, slicing across concrete, but it’s the snap of my chin against the ground that sends a searing jolt through my body.
Pain explodes when I bite through my tongue, the metallic tang of blood flooding my mouth. I barely register the sting of my scraped chin as the torn skin mixes with rain and dirt. The world blurs for a moment, the relentless clicking of his camera severing the fog.
“Stevie! Stevie, look up!” he hollers, undeterred, crouching down to capture my humiliation up close.
I spit blood onto the sidewalk, hands shaking as I struggle to get up, the taste of copper heavy on my tongue. Tears spring to my eyes—mortification, fear, pain. As my knees wobble underneath me, a familiar face appears to my right, pulling me into a steadying embrace.
Adrian.
Lex’s driver wraps an arm around my shoulders, guiding me to the entrance of the building as the paparazzo bolts in the opposite direction.
“Are you all right, miss?” He half carries me up the steps and opens the door. “Your face. Should I call for an ambulance?”
I can hardly see him through the visor of tears. “No, I…I think I’m okay.” Swallowing, I press my fingertips to my mouth, watching as they come back red. “Thank you.”
“My apologies I didn’t see it sooner. I would have come quicker.”
“It’s not your fault.” My shredded hands quiver as I move through the doorway, glancing over his shoulder at the sea of popeyed pedestrians. “I appreciate your help.”
Spinning on my heel, I race inside the complex, our coffee and bagels splattered on the sidewalk. I try to keep the dam from bursting as I plow through the door to Lex’s unit and jog to the lower-level bathroom to clean up.
Lex is already coming down the staircase, a towel draped over his shoulder. “Stevie?”
“I–I’m okay. Just need a minute.”
He must catch sight of my battered face because he charges down the stairs, nearly levitating as he jumps down the final three steps. “Holy fuck. What the hell happened?”
I don’t make it any farther when his hand snatches my wrist and whirls me around. My eyes lock on pure horror. “I…fell. It’s fine. I just need to wash up—”
“Who the fuck did this to you?” Hellfire laces every word. His expression is a murderous mask of rage.
Tears fall loose, mixing with sidewalk debris and sticky blood. “A paparazzo caught me on the way back from the deli. He was aggressive. I tried getting away, but I panicked, and…I tripped.”
“Jesus Christ.” Lex cups my face in two gentle hands, his wide eyes skimming over the damage. “I’m going to rip his fucking head off.”
He pulls away, vibrating with fury.
I tug him back and shake my head. “No, he ran off. Just leave it.”
“He’s already dead.”
“Lex, please, it’ll only make it worse.” My face crumples. I feel the blood dribbling down my chin, stinging my scraped skin. “I’ll be okay.”
Hesitating, he trails his gaze over me, drinking in my dirty sweatshirt, cut-up hands, and bloodied face. In a blink, he flies around and kicks over a dining chair, then squeezes his hair in both hands and growls, “ Fuck .”
I flinch.
Freeze.
He hunches forward, cupping his knees, knuckles translucent. He’s shaking, his anger reverberating as he teeters on the edge of a breakdown. I don’t know what to do. What to say. My heart splits into pieces, the chambers torn wide open.
When he straightens back up, he whips the towel across the room and holds his jaw, spinning away from me.
“Lex…” I take a hesitant step forward.
The planks of his back ripple. When he slowly pivots back around, there’s a film over his eyes.
A thick cloud of pain. Lex takes two long strides toward me and yanks me into a hard hug.
His palm grips the back of my head, his arm encircling me, heart beating rapid fire against his ribs. “I’m so sorry.”
I dig my forehead into his chest. “You didn’t do anything.”
He tenses up, holding me closer.
My hands hover a centimeter away from him, the heels of my palms pulsing with pain. Emotion blankets me in waves of heat. My eyes sting, my face throbs, my mind reels. Blood begins to dry on my lips and tongue, and I can’t even kiss him.
Lex exhales a defeated sigh and inches away from me. “I’ll help you clean up.”
He disappears into the bathroom.
I disappear into myself.