Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
SPEAKING OF THE B-LISTERS BASH… RUMOR HAS IT, THERE WAS SOME DRAMA TOWARD THE END. MAYBE THE OPEN BAR WASN’T A GOOD IDEA…
TRIPP
Ilowered the camera, half expecting the woman to disappear. Thankfully, she didn’t.
“Sorry for interrupting. I was trying not to startle you.” She glanced toward the ledge I sat on before taking a hesitant step closer. “Any chance I can convince you to come stand over here?”
“Baby, you can convince me to do just about any-damn-thing,” I drawled.
And slurred.
Mostly slurred.
Shit.
It made no sense since my imbibing was the reason I could see her, but I suddenly regretted everything I’d drank and snorted. I didn’t want to sound like a drunken loser.
Not that it would’ve made a difference. For the first time I could remember, a woman wasn’t charmed by bullshit.
No. My fantasy girl met my gaze before rolling those mesmerizing eyes.
Even still, she took another few shuffling steps toward me.
“Sit with me,” I invited as I grabbed the whiskey bottle. I was just trying to move it out of her way, but she smoothly stole it from my hold.
“That’s enough of that,” she muttered before retreating to set it on the rusty table near the faded patio furniture.
Come back.
I’d thought my plea was in my head, but she shot me a soft smile. “I’m right here. And you should be over here, too.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said because I would go wherever she wanted.
I just have to hope she isn’t a siren mirage that my fucked-up brain is projecting to get me to launch myself into the abyss.
When did I get so fucking macabre?
It’s this damn town.
I spun around to face the roof, and my dream girl rushed forward as I hopped down. I was going for effortlessly cool, but I was already clumsily loaded. Rather than using all my action hero training to land squarely on my feet, I stumbled forward and was about to faceplant.
A bad outcome for a man who relied on his face for everything.
The siren caught hold of my shoulders to keep me upright, and my hands spanned her waist.
Her very real waist.
The dress was scratchy under my fingertips, but I could still feel the warmth of her emanating through the fabric.
“You’re not a figment of my drunken fantasies,” I murmured.
Her full lips twitched. “I am not.”
“You’re beautiful enough to be.”
“And you’re drunk enough to be seeing three of me.”
“But all three are the prettiest fucking things I’ve seen in my life.”
That got me another eye roll. “Do those kinds of lines usually work?”
“Yes,” I said honestly. “But it’s not a line.”
“Riiiight.” Using the hold she still had on me, she tried to inch us toward the door.
And using the hold I still had on her, I didn’t let her. I didn’t want to return to my party. I didn’t want forced smiles and empty compliments.
I wanted more eye rolls.
I introduced myself with my best pickup line. “Hey, I’m Tripp Carter.”
“I’m aware.”
That was a surprise. I’d taken her flippant attitude to mean she had no clue who I was since no one talked to me the way she had.
Her following me up to the roof made more sense now, though.
Usually, that would kill whatever attraction I felt.
Don’t get me wrong, I was grateful for the love I got from fans.
I had no problem stopping to chat and sign shit and pose for pictures.
I did, however, get annoyed as shit when it was obvious they didn’t know a thing about me and that whatever I signed would be up on eBay within the hour.
Or when my rare window of solitude was invaded.
For whatever reason, I found I didn’t mind when it came to the siren.
I smiled down at her. She wasn’t insanely short, but she still had to be nearly a foot shorter than me.
“I guess you would know since you’re at my party.
Which makes me wonder how exactly you got the invite because I’m damn certain I don’t know you.
I would remember. Did you sneak in?” I squeezed her waist gently. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”
She looked like she wanted to roll her eyes again but settled for glancing to the side as she gestured over her shoulder. “I’m here with my friend and her boyfriend, both of whom seemed to have disappeared. When I saw the door open, I thought they’d snuck up here.”
Thought I closed that. I’m gonna catch hell from Cohen.
“So you weren’t following me?” I asked.
The barely smothered snort cut almost as deeply as her immediate and firm, “No.”
Ouch, my wounded pride.
And yet I still wasn’t turned off.
“A lucky coincidence then,” I muttered, willing my vision to focus.
“Yeah, sure. I’m betting there are a lot of people downstairs searching for the guest of honor, so why don’t we get you back in there?” She shifted again to move us toward the door.
Or maybe just dislodge herself from my grip.
I didn’t want either one.
“There’s not,” I said as that empty loneliness threatened to push in.
She froze, her head tilting as she looked up at me. “Not what?”
“Not anyone searching. As long as there’s free booze and food, I guarantee no one’s even noticed I’m gone.”
Her pretty face softened with pity, and that was worse than her trying to get away from me. “Well, it is good food, but I’m sure that’s not true.”
I laughed, but even through my fog, I could hear how hollow it sounded. “Don’t give me that look, siren. I’m up here to get away from them. And now to get to know you. What’s your name?”
“Greer,” she said. “But we should both get back to the party. I don’t want my friend thinking I took off without saying goodbye.”
With her standing so close, I was able to get a better look at her. She was younger than I initially thought—probably a decade or so younger than me as a newly thirty-three-year-old. If I was a better man, that would’ve been enough to make me release her.
Unlike most of Hollywood, I wasn’t in a constant quest to date younger as I got older. I preferred my companions to understand my references, have experience with what I liked, and never, ever tell me that they loved my movies in high school—or earlier.
But I wasn’t a better man, so I kept my large hands right where they were.
Based on her estimated age and the disappearing couple she’d mentioned, I wagered a guess. “Would that friend happen to be Maddie?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “I went to get a drink, and she was gone.”
“They probably snuck into—” I caught my drunken tongue just before I mentioned Gilded.
I had no clue if Maddie had told her friend about the kind of relationship she had with Easton.
About the way she submitted.
It made me wonder if Greer shared that submissive trait. I somehow doubted it. And while that was a shame, it wasn’t enough to dull my interest.
“Snuck into a storeroom,” I finished instead.
“I figured,” she said with a soft sigh that wasn’t loaded with the venom that being ditched deserved.
“They might be a while,” I said. I had no clue if that was true, but I was an opportunistic bastard who wanted to extend the time I had with her.
“I figured that, too.” She tucked her escaped strands of hair behind her ears. “I’ll just text her goodbye.”
“Wait, you’re leaving?”
“Yes, I—”
“But you can’t.”
“Why?”
That was a good question. Admitting that the couple of minutes with her had been the only pleasurable part of my birthday—while very true—was levels of pathetic I wasn’t willing to sink to.
I scrambled for a better answer before landing on, “I haven’t cut my cake.”
She gave a pointed look around us. “And I doubt you will if you’re hiding up here.”
“True. But you can’t leave until I cut it, so ipso facto, we’ve got time.”
Her lips quirked. “Ipso facto? You’ve been hanging out with Easton too much.”
“True again,” I lied. Easton might’ve been one of my closest friends, but I’d still been avoiding him and his happiness.
He knew it, too.
A pit of guilt began to form. At the same time, the haze started to thicken around my brain. With no more incoming alcohol to keep my buzz steady, it was morphing into exhaustion. I did my best to push it all back and stay present.
“As tempting as staying out here is,” she said—or lied, too? I wasn’t sure. She gestured down to herself. “I’m not exactly dressed for it.”
Early December in LA was nowhere as cold as other places, but it could still be frigid—especially on a rooftop at night.
Fuck, I’m a thoughtless dick.
To compound that knowledge, a gust of wind blew in, ruffling her hair. With my hands still in place, it was impossible to miss the shudder that went through her.
“Let’s go inside,” I said immediately.
I was willing to risk walking backward down the stairs to keep my hold on her, but I didn’t want to chance her plummeting down with me. I grudgingly released my grip when she stepped away and watched as she moved into the beam of light from one of the dim bulbs. My breath caught.
Fucking caught.
Like something from one of the cheesy Hallmark movies I’d been in early in my career.
When the light flickered, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking of how good she would look in the candle room in Gilded.
The one where hot wax could be dripped onto her perfect skin.
Not usually my kind of kink, but…
“So what kind is it?” she asked, and I froze.
Fuck, did I verbalize an inside thought again?
I need a better filter.
Or any filter.
But she wasn’t asking what kind of kink I was usually into.
“The cake,” she clarified when I just blinked at her like a dumbass.
“I have no fucking clue.”
“Mystery cake. All the more reason to go down there.”
I didn’t agree.
But I grabbed my camera and followed her anyway.
“How long have you known Maddie?” I asked as I death gripped the railing and took each step like I was on a high-wire going between 2Cal and 1Cal Plaza. The last thing I needed was to fall and break my neck.
Or worse, make a bigger ass of myself in front of Greer.
“Our whole lives,” she said. “Literally.”
“Secret sisters separated at birth?” I joked, though they didn’t look alike at all.