Chapter 4
Are You Going to Be My Girl?
GREER
Okay, so maybe I’m easily intimidated or maybe these guys are just beyond what nature intended, because I’m not usually attracted to guys until I get to know them a little better. Chad and I dated for a month before we even kissed, but once that happens, I’m all in for better or worse. Or terrible in Chad’s case.
Which is where my new motto comes in: sex does not equal love.
“We need to draw up some legal documents still.” Mason reclines in his chair. Even though his body is at ease, there’s this power to him that’s undeniable. He’s not as gorgeous as the two movie stars, but he’s still handsome, and there’s this dark air around him that draws me.
“Okay.” I expected that much.
“An NDA, obviously, and a contract.” Mason glances at Aiden. He smiles and my world turns upside down even if it isn’t directed at me. Mason smiling is powerful enough to make my ovaries explode.
I must have made a noise, because his gaze flicks to me knowingly. I cross my legs but don’t drop my gaze. While I may be afraid of him, I don’t want him to know that. He doesn’t need more power over me.
“Aiden, do you want to explain everything?” Mason steeples his fingers in front of his mouth, pressing them against his full lips. Somehow these guys make me feel like I’ve won a lifetime membership at an all-you-can-eat man buffet. I need to get over that shit and quick.
This is a job, not a bar. I’m going to do what they need me to do and figure out my life while I have a comfortable home. I can’t screw this up by sleeping with any of them. No matter how tempting.
Aiden passes me a handwritten note with numbers that make my eyes bulge. “The first number is your monthly salary.”
The number is more than I made in a year at the diner with tips. I bite my lip at the next number, which is a lot more. I don’t think I’ve ever been offered so many zeros.
“We need someone who won’t ditch us during production.” Aiden runs a hand through his curls, and I meet his light blue eyes. He gives me his world-weary look. “We’re looking for someone now because the guy we had before tried to sell me drugs.”
My hand covers my mouth. “That’s fucked up.”
“Exactly. We’re due to start filming next week, and we need someone immediately. The second number is the bonus in addition to your salary if you stay until the end of filming. About four months.”
I swallow, knowing there’s an even larger number below that, but I nod.
“The next number is if you stay through during postproduction and the premiere. The production company wants me sober for that year as well, and finding someone new is difficult.” Aiden sets his hands on the table between us. “Which is why we would be willing to give you those bonuses for staying the entire time.”
I do a quick calculation of the monthly salary for a year plus the bonuses. It would be more than enough to finally reenroll in college and do something with my life. It would also afford me the time to figure out exactly what that thing could be.
This is a dream job.
Dreams don’t come true for someone like me, so there has to be a catch.
I scan the guys sitting before me. These are strangers. Even though two seem familiar because I’ve seen their bodies of work and interviews, that’s not who they truly are. Those are their public personas, and I need to remember not to confuse that with who they actually are.
They’re asking me to live with four men and basically make sure an addict doesn’t slip, when I couldn’t even save my own mother. The numbers swirl before me. It would get me away from Chad, and I could even pay my share of the rent through the end of our contract with no problems. It’s almost a ludicrous amount.
It’s not like I haven’t lived with strangers before. Every new home was filled with strangers. New rules. New people to avoid.
Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine I could have this life. Even for a short period of time. And then be able to pursue a dream that was so far out of reach as to be unattainable.
“I won’t lie. This seems too good to be true. What’s the catch?” I cross my arms and lean back in the chair. Too many times I thought I’d found a home only to be shuffled to the next family and the family after that. Every house has secrets and dangers. So what are the dangers and secrets here?
“We want to fuck you.” Roarke’s words make my eyes widen.
“Excuse me?” I must have misheard him. Surely he didn’t just say what I think I heard. “What?”
Mason moves, and my gaze darts to him. He’s the authority of this group. It’s in his whole demeanor, even how he sits. His blue eyes draw me in.
“What Roarke so elegantly said. Production has a crazy schedule. While Roarke has been obvious about his attraction, the rest of us find ourselves drawn enough to be curious. If you are interested, of course.”
My gaze flicks to Wyatt’s hazel eyes. That intimate moment in the bedroom flashes in my mind. I mean, I’ve thought about all of them like that, but it’s just a fantasy, not something I would actually act on. Right?
It would be crazy to think that I could indulge in sex with even one of them, but all of them? That I really want to hasn’t escaped my thoughts. I just figured Roarke was a flirt. Aiden. My gaze flicks to him. There’s so much pain in him, but that little spark between us could be something. My leg bounces beneath the table.
“I’m not sure what to say.” I swallow. My throat is suddenly dry. “I’m obviously flattered, but—”
“This isn’t a condition of your job.” Aiden leans forward with his elbows on the table. His blue eyes hold me captive. “You can choose when and if you want to start that kind of relationship with any or all of us or none of us. Your choice.”
His eyes are so earnest, and there’s pain. So much pain in him.
“I’m not really the type of woman to just sleep around.” I press my sweaty palms against my thighs to stop them from bouncing.
“We don’t want to get a week into the arrangement and someone does something that makes you quit.” Aiden releases a breath. “I want you to be my sobriety buddy. I’m not saying any of us will initiate something right away—”
“Speak for yourself.” Roarke winks and gives me a huge grin. “I’d fuck you on this table right now, poppet.”
My face heats, but so do my insides. Roarke is gorgeous, and every time he speaks, my panties get wet. When he’s close, the buzz of arousal drowns out almost everything else. But still…In front of these guys? Really? Desire tugs low and heavy in my belly.
Why doesn’t that scare me?
“Uh…”
“Forget Roarke for a moment.” Wyatt crosses his ankle over his knee. “He’s always ready and willing. All we’re asking for, if I’m hearing this right, is the chance to explore our attractions. We aren’t paying you to sleep with us—which someone should have said from the start, seeing as you haven’t signed an NDA.”
He glares at the other guys for a moment before his eyes soften when he returns those chameleon eyes to me. “It’s not even a given. You say no and we back down. Anytime, anywhere. Enthusiastic consent throughout or it’s a no-go.”
I worry my lip with my teeth as I look around at their faces. Roarke smiles and gives me his Hollywood smolder. Mason’s eyes study me, sizing me up to see if I’m worthy of playing with.
Wyatt is the hardest to read. He watches me like he wants to delve into my mind and pull out everything wicked. A shiver works through me.
Then there’s Aiden. So much fucking pain. They say not to get involved with someone until they’re a year sober. It’s too easy to trade one addiction for another and then crash and burn when it goes wrong. I don’t want to be the reason he crashes.
I don’t need the guilt of another addict on my conscience.
Everything inside me wants to say yes, but that piece of me that stood on a new doorstep waiting to meet yet another family to take me in can’t handle rejection again. Even though these men are the ones waiting for me to say yes. To them.
Unbelievable.
“You don’t have to agree to anything yet.” Aiden must sense what I’m about to say. “It would be no strings attached. You decide to end it. It ends. No one shows up blasting Peter Gabriel outside your window.”
I smile because I can’t help it. It’s an iconic scene, but why is that Aiden’s go-to? The movie is older than I am. It’s older than he is too.
“I’ll think about it.” Because there’s this glimmer of hope in Aiden’s eyes that I don’t want to snuff out. “When would I start?”
How many days would I have to put up with Chad or sleep in my car?
“Filming starts on Monday.”
My smile falls. It’s Wednesday. That’s five days. Maybe Bristol can make room for that long. I could go back to Chad’s, and technically my, apartment. I wince, remembering the request for a blow job and his use for my panties.
I can’t go back there. After today, I know his expectations, and that’s not happening.
“You live with your fucking asshole ex?” Roarke asks.
I nod, not even able to conjure a smile thinking about Chad.
“You’ll stay here, then. Tonight,” Roarke announces like it’s a done deal.
“Technically, she hasn’t signed an NDA, so we should keep her until then.” Mason strokes his hand over the scruff on his chin. His blue eyes follow my every move, making my insides turn to jelly.
“If you want.” Aiden gives Roarke a chastising look that does absolutely nothing to quell Roarke’s grin. “I’m sure we could have something drawn up quickly if needed. The room is available and it will be yours. If you want it.”
My mouth opens and closes. What choice do I have? That beautiful bedroom upstairs or the floor at Bristol’s or the couch at Chad’s. It’s an easy decision.
#
Roarke follows me out to my car to help me grab my things that I so elegantly blurted out I have with me. The fucking Roarke Flynn! My fangirl just won’t calm the fuck down. Especially knowing exactly what he wants from me. What they all want.
It’s a huge boost to my ego, but I’m afraid I’d just disappoint them. Sex is good and I enjoy it, but if it were a sport, I wouldn’t even qualify for a recreational league, and I’d definitely get picked last for most teams.
“This is your car?” Roarke eyes Old Betsy like she’s the ugly stepsister. “How is it still running? Duct tape and prayers?”
I hold up my hands to stop him. “Shh, you’ll make her mad. And no one likes Old Betsy when she gets mad.”
“It looks like it’s two minutes from croaking.” Roarke raises a golden eyebrow as he looks her over. Her paint is faded and she’s been dinged, but she’s gotten me this far in life.
“She is sensitive and a lifesaver, so stop dissing her.” I stroke a hand over her sunspotted hood. “She’s definitely seen better days, but she’s never let me down.”
And I’d need a pen and a stack of paper to list all the others in my life who have let me down. I bought her used for a grand when I was eighteen. Saving every penny I earned to get her was a priority.
“Fine. Old Betsy can park in my space,” he concedes. “I don’t have a car here yet.”
“She’s used to being in the sun.” I pop open the trunk and grab the bag I packed. Who knows what I grabbed and if I’ll be able to even make anything match. If I can’t find panties, I’m going to go medieval on Chad for distracting me.
Roarke strokes his hand down his cheek. “She doesn’t really go with the aesthetic of the house…”
I laugh out loud. He grins and closes in on me. My breath catches at his nearness. His sandalwood scent wraps around me, making me want to lean in closer.
“You have a sexy laugh, poppet.” His hand slides around the back of my neck, sending sparks through my system. My fangirl fights with my urge to put my hands on his chest to stop him. Unfortunately, fangirl doesn’t win.
“Roarke.” My hands press into the hard muscles of his pecs, and for a second, I forget why I put them there. The muscles twitch beneath my palms and I snatch my hands away like they were burned. Oof, yeah, I shouldn’t touch him. That’s playing with fire.
“Yes, poppet.” He uses that seductive tone I’ve heard way too often lately and in every movie. It’s almost a staple of the Roarke Flynn brand.
“Does this usually work?” I tilt my head as I meet his eyes.
He pauses and smiles slyly. “Usually.”
“I bet. Look, I’m a lot starstruck right now and left my apartment in a hurry because my asshole ex thought he deserved blow jobs as payment for the rent and used my panties to get himself off.”
Roarke’s fingers tighten on the back of my neck before he gentles and massages the muscles. “Sounds like he deserves to be an ex.”
I curl into his hand like a cat needing touch. When was the last time someone touched me like this? Chad always went straight to the typical spots and rarely spent any time on my neck. A massage wasn’t on the menu.
“Mmm. He cheated on me. A lot.” My eyelids grow heavy, and I sway toward his heat.
“Sounds like you should fuck me to get back at him.” Roarke’s voice lures me. But when his words register, I laugh and draw away from him.
“I’m going to have to watch you, aren’t I?” I arch my eyebrow. It’s hard to take him seriously. I’m not sure why he wants in my pants, but he doesn’t appear put off by my rebuffs.
He takes the bag out of my hand and gives me a cheeky grin. “Being watched is my specialty.”
Aiden’s words come back, and the flush working up my neck goes into overdrive. Roarke enjoys watching almost as much as he enjoys being watched. He did say he wanted to fuck me on the table. Right then and there.
In front of the others.
Heat pours through my veins. What would that be like? Their hot gazes on my naked body while Roarke touches and fucks me. Would they all touch me?
Fuck. I’m aroused and bothered just by the thought of it. This is insane. I’m supposed to be starstruck and have all these complicated feelings, but they aren’t supposed to offer to fulfill my fantasies. Or tell me I’m part of theirs.
“Still with me, poppet?” Roarke gives me a cocky grin. I must have spaced out there for a moment.
Nodding, I worry my lip. His gaze drops to my lips and darkens. An answering pulse throbs through me. For a second, we remain almost breathless in our spots.
Roarke’s eyes lift to mine, and for a second, the attraction flows between us and it feels like he’s going to kiss me. I don’t know what face I make, but Roarke is subtle in the way he pulls away slightly, making my breath slam back into me.
“This it?” He lifts the bag.
I glance toward it and notice the bulge in his pants. My cheeks heat and I spin to close the trunk. “Yup. That’s all.”
Twenty-four hours. I bet if I make it twenty-four hours with them, some of this heat will wear off. They’ll decide they don’t really want me and things will be normal. I’ll be the staff and they’ll be the megamillionaires bringing home randoms.
My fingers tighten on my keys. Okay, not loving the idea of randoms. I’ll get over that too. I just need time. Time to adjust, just like with a new foster family.
Learn the rules and figure out how to survive. Try not to give them reasons to send me away.
Taking a cleansing breath, I follow Roarke back into the house and up the stairs to what will be my bedroom. My room is in the corner, so I look over the pool and see the ocean beyond it. Unable to resist, I walk over to the window and open it. The sound of crashing waves fills the space.
Mary had a pool. She even tried to get me to swim, but I’ve always been terrified of the water. So I never learned how.
“Do you have a swimsuit, poppet?” Roarke closes in behind me, but he doesn’t touch me, like he already knows that would be too much for me. The warmth of his body is almost overwhelming.
“I don’t swim.” The words slip out of me as I stare at the reflection of the beautiful blue pool.
“You aren’t afraid of the water, are you?” He sounds personally offended.
I turn around and he’s right there, towering over me.
“No, I’m not afraid,” I lie. It’s an easy lie. One I’ve told most of my life. Being afraid only got me attention I didn’t want.
“Do you not like getting wet?” His wiggling eyebrows ruin the seriousness from his previous statement.
“I just never learned.” I move past him to my bag and pull out my random selections. “When I was seven, we went to the beach. I ran in and out of the water while my mom watched. We played in the sand and water all day until I was as red as a lobster. We didn’t have a pool or friends with pools. We never went back to the beach. No reason to learn to swim.”
Roarke sits on the bed beside my bag and pulls out a pair of panties. I snatch them from his hand and grab a few more things to put in the dresser.
“I’m going to teach you to swim, poppet.” He pulls out a T-shirt with Fuck Off written on it. He holds it up with a quizzical brow.
“Chad’s.” I take it and set it to the side. I regard the Hollywood superstar sitting on my bed, rummaging in my hastily packed bag. “Don’t you have something better to do?”
He smirks. “Not until Monday. You’ll have my undivided attention until then.”
My cheeks burn as I pull out the last of my clothes. It’s not a lot. But it will be enough for a couple days. Then I can wait for Chad to go to work and sneak into the apartment to get the rest.
“Tell me, poppet, do you like sex?”
My mouth drops open and snaps shut. I never thought I’d have conversations like this with someone like Roarke. This job isn’t going to be easy.
“If you don’t want to talk about sex, we could go swimming.” Roarke’s blue eyes alight with mischief. “Either way we’ll get you nice and wet.”
I honestly don’t know what to say to this man. “I don’t have a swimsuit.”
My door is wide open, and Aiden pauses in the doorway on the way to his room, I assume. He leans against the door frame, looking effortlessly casual but imposing at the same time.
“Roarke, give the woman some space.”
Grinning, Roarke lies back on my bed. “I’m not touching my poppet. She has plenty of room to roam.”
Roarke’s blue eyes are heated when they meet mine, and he winks. “We were just discussing her inability to swim.”
“You can’t swim?” Aiden makes it sound like I have a rare, deadly disease.
I shrug, suddenly aware I’m in a bedroom with two actors who have both expressed an interest in me sexually. Life is strange. I grab the handful of bras and panties on the bed and shove them in a drawer.
“We need to fix that.” Aiden steps into my room. My heart slams against my rib cage. Roarke’s energy already keys me up, but add Aiden to the equation and my poor heart might explode from the effort.
Roarke sits up. “Just what I was thinking.”
“I don’t need to learn to swim.” Folding the last of my clothes, I add them to the dresser. Glancing at the now-empty bag, I say under my breath, “Fuck.”