Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Donovan
Of all the places I thought I would spend a Sunday morning, the bed of Hollywood’s biggest star is not one of them. I’ve been staring at the man next to me for the last ten minutes, trying to understand how I got here, and it still doesn’t feel real.
After my shower, I raided Derek’s suitcase for something to wear while listening to the tense conversation he was having with his brother in the main room.
I only caught the tail end, but neither man seems happy about what their mom might be doing.
When the call ended, Derek came into the bedroom and found me wearing his T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, and with the hungry way he stared at me, I was pretty sure he had to use all of his self-control to keep his hands to himself.
Giving me his unlocked phone, he told me I could use it for anything I needed and went straight for the shower.
Feeling like I might melt into a puddle on the floor, I sat on the bed and used Derek’s phone to text Spencer and explain what happened at Red Earth and where I will be for the next…
I don’t know how long. I have a Westwater trip I’m supposed to be leading on Monday, but Spencer said Farah could cover if I need her to.
I would say he was surprisingly understanding, but my cousin is no dummy.
He knows enough about my past to recognize when an event might be triggering, but, more than that, word’s going to get out that Derek was at Red Earth River Tours.
Something tells me we’re not going to be hurting for business from here on out.
As far as the river company goes, all of this will likely lead to nothing but fully booked trips as Derek’s fans scramble to do the same trip he did.
That, plus the hundred grand that Janie sent on Monday, means Derek singlehandedly saved Pops’s legacy. The man’s not perfect, but he sure comes close.
I was half asleep by the time Derek finished his shower, too tired to fully appreciate the sight of him in a towel or try to continue the conversation. He was clearly tired too; as soon as he was dressed, he flopped onto the bed and promptly fell asleep. I was quick to follow.
Yesterday was a lot.
Looking at him now, I’m pretty sure Derek hasn’t moved in the last twelve hours, which is impressive.
I can’t get over how unguarded he looks.
He’s on his back, one hand on his torso and the other stretched across the mattress toward me.
From the second he lay down, I’ve been tempted to take hold of that hand, but I haven’t wanted to wake him when he clearly needs sleep. He needs this moment of peace.
Few people in the world get to see him at ease like this, if any, and something warm and comforting settles in my chest as I gaze at him.
He trusts me. He wanted me to stay, and he has let me into the deepest corners of his heart because he trusts me.
From the sound of it, Derek doesn’t really trust anyone.
He never said it out loud, but I’m pretty sure he realized that not trusting his friends with the darker parts of his life is partially to blame for the mess he’s found himself in.
If they’d known his history with his mom, they might have helped him figure things out sooner.
Careful not to jostle the bed, I sit up and grab Derek’s phone from where I left it charging on the nightstand.
I want to make sure Spencer hasn’t run into any trouble since yesterday, but I’m also curious if Hollywood Hot Scoop has said anything specific about me yet now that they’ve had half a day to work with whatever footage the paparazzi got them.
What kind of fame—or infamy—will I be walking into when I eventually leave this hotel room?
There’s nothing from my cousin, so I pull up Derek’s browser.
It’s still open to the old story, the one that gave the internet the first real glimpse of the man behind the actor.
I read through it, laughing at the way it hardly says anything at all.
Nothing significant, anyway. Derek is as much of a mystery as he was the first day he showed up to Hollywood.
Pretty much the opposite of how I was.
Though I wish I had some sort of armor to wear, I hit the refresh button and brace myself. Even prepared for it, my breath catches in my throat when I see the headline of an article posted less than twenty minutes ago.
From Fame to the Fringe: The Untold Disappearance of Nova Tate
I gulp as my hand starts shaking. I knew this was coming, but seeing my stage name big and bold on a website that isn’t afraid to hold back fills me with dread.
There’s a picture attached to the headline, a red carpet shot from one of my last premieres, and I can’t stop staring at the girl I used to be.
I barely recognize myself, and it’s more than the dyed dark shade of my hair I had back then.
That girl wore designer dresses and bold makeup, and she carried herself with superiority and overconfidence, looking through people instead of at them.
She looks…haunted…in this picture. Empty.
She was so caught up in the fame that she couldn’t see anything past the spotlight.
No one else in the world mattered but her.
“It’s a good thing you died at fifteen,” I whisper to my old self.
I should read the story. It’ll be better if I know what to expect out there, but my thumb hovers over the link to open the article. Is this how Derek feels all the time? Terrified that something has come to light that he spent so much time and energy trying to keep buried?
A warm hand wraps around mine, startling me, but I relax the instant I meet Derek’s vividly blue gaze. His lips curl up in a lazy smile, and a fire sparks to life inside me at the sight.
“You stayed,” he says, his voice rough from sleep.
As if I could have left. I don’t think there’s anyone in the world who could resist this man’s smiles. “You snored,” I reply with a smirk.
Yawning, he rubs his eyes and then runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah, see, I know you’re lying because I’ve done too much training with my breathing patterns, so I know for a fact that I don’t snore.”
I groan, rolling my eyes. “Of course you have. You know, some might wonder if you’ve been single this long because you’re way too close to perfect. The rest of us normal people can’t even begin to match up to your superhuman self.”
Derek snickers, and then he rolls toward me, wrapping his arm around my waist. He slides my body down to bring our faces closer, and his gaze is fixed so intently on me that the fire in my belly starts to spread.
“First of all,” he says in a voice so low and rumbly that I shiver despite feeling overheated, “you know better than anyone that I am far from perfect. Second, there is nothing normal about you, Donovan Tate. You are confident and beautiful and pay attention to the people around you.” His eyes grow dark as he studies me while inching closer to my mouth.
“You see people for who they are. You’re strong and capable. You’re fearless.”
Pretty sure he’s stolen all the air from my lungs, and while we would both be better off keeping some space between us until I can get my hands on a toothbrush, I’m tempted to kiss him anyway.
But that last trait he listed sticks in my head, and I can’t help but grimace and look down at the phone in my hand.
“I’m not fearless,” I murmur, needing to set him straight. Being able to stand tall in his world is important, and right now I don’t feel nearly as strong and capable as he thinks I am.
Derek’s eyes linger on me for a few more seconds, then he shifts his focus to the phone I pick up again. “They posted it.”
“I’m too scared to read it.”
He rests his head on my shoulder, and I assume he’s studying the picture of Nova Tate the same way I was a few minutes ago.
He’s being a lot more physical than I expected him to be, though it’s not like I had any basis for how this man would act in a relationship.
Neither can I say we’re even in a relationship.
But strange as this closeness is for me, I am absolutely here for it.
There’s something very calming about Derek’s hold.
I feel safer than I ever have. And knowing he feels equally safe to be in a vulnerable position like this bolsters me in a way few things have before.
“No one says you have to read it,” he says after a moment. “Sometimes it’s better not to know.”
“But you want to read it,” I guess.
His hand tightens around my waist as he lifts his head up to meet my gaze. “I want to know how angry I need to be at my mom when all this is said and done. Whether or not she is directly involved, this story exists because of me.”
He looks so apologetic that I drop the phone on the bed so I can push his hair from his forehead and kiss the wrinkles on his brow. “This isn’t your fault.”
“It absolutely is,” he argues. “No one would have given you a second glance if I hadn’t picked your company.”
“If you hadn’t picked my company, we would have gone out of business before the end of the summer.
” I move my hand to his cheek and run my thumb along the tanned skin over his cheekbone.
“Thank you, by the way. You just paid for Mason’s and Thiago’s tuition for the next year.
Helped Farah with her down payment on a house.
If I have to face my past to give them better futures, I’ll be okay. ”
Derek sighs and closes his eyes. “Another reason to like you, Donovan Tate.”
He’s so beautiful. I knew that from the start, but the longer I know him, the more his good heart seems to shine through his attractive exterior. And to think I almost let my past blind me to who he really is. I didn’t want to like him, but at this point I might be falling in love with him.
With Derek Riley.
Boy, am I in trouble now. I can only go downhill from here if this doesn’t work out.
“What if,” he says, rising up on his elbow and splaying his other hand on my ribcage, “I read the article and let you know if you need to worry?”
“Okay,” I say, hating how breathless I sound. I doubt the article can be any worse than some of the things people said about me when I first disappeared. “I’m going to use the bathroom while you do because I don’t want to see your face.”
He grins. “You love my face.”
Rolling my eyes, I brush my fingers through his hair. “Everyone loves your face, Derek Riley. I’m more interested in the man underneath it.”
With the sort of smile that could power the sun, Derek quickly leans up to kiss the tip of my nose before rolling off me so I can get up.
“Do you want some breakfast?” he asks as he sits up and takes his phone.
He narrows his eyes slightly as he reads something, making my stomach flop, but then he starts typing.
Hopefully that means he was reading a text and not the article already.
“Apparently Janie has food waiting for us if we want it.”
My stomach rumbles in response, making me pause near the bathroom door. “Breakfast sounds great. Does this mean you’re going to talk to her this morning?”
He considers that. “Yeah. I need to hear her side before I make any decisions.”
“That’s good.” I tilt my head, studying him for a moment. “You’re a lot calmer than you were yesterday.”
Shrugging, he lowers his gaze to his phone as if it might have an explanation.
“In the light of day, it all feels so trivial. Unless I’m wrong about my mom, there’s an easy way to fix the cracks in my life.
” He must see the question in my eyes because when he looks up, he gives me an uncomfortable smile. “Talking to her.”
His distaste for the idea brings me back over to the bed so I can press my palm to his cheek. “No one says you have to talk to your mom,” I say, essentially repeating what he told me when it came to reading the article about me. “I’m sure a strongly worded email would have the same effect.”
He snorts a small laugh and puts his hand over mine. “If you think I’m stubborn…”
There’s a soft knock on the door to the main suite, and a moment later a timid voice says, “Derek? I, uh, I have your breakfast. And a change of clothes for Donovan, in case she…”
My eyebrows shoot up. “She brought me clothes?”
“She’s a very good assistant.”
“I’ll just leave this in here and get out of your hair,” Janie says, her voice wavering as if she’s terrified of how Derek is going to react if she’s in the room for too long.
Still holding my hand to his cheek, Derek calls out, “Stay,” in a sharper tone than I expected. “You and I need to talk.”
“Okay,” Janie squeaks out. “I’ll just…stay.”
I give Derek a censuring look and shake my head. “You don’t need to be mean,” I murmur. “You don’t know what her intentions were, and there’s probably more to the story.” There always is.
He sighs. “Doesn’t mean I’m not frustrated with her. But I’ll be nice until she gives me a reason not to be.”
“Good.”
Curling his fingers around mine, he slowly pulls my hand from his face and presses his lips to the soft skin of my wrist. His blue eyes are locked on mine with an intensity that warms me from the inside out.
“I’ll read the article later,” he promises me as he starts trailing kisses up my arm.
“Looks like it’s time for me to get some answers. ”
He moves so quickly that his lips are on mine before I can react. It’s only a peck, but I feel it down to my toes as he heads out to the main room with confident steps and the look of someone who’s not going down without a fight.
I shiver. Good luck to anyone who thinks they can go up against Derek Riley and win.