Under the Lights

I’m still holding my phone, so I just hold it up with a little wiggle of my hand to imply I was on a phone call and plaster a smile on my face as I join them. “Where’d Bri go?” I ask, keeping my voice neutral as Josh pulls a chair over for me.

“Said to tell you she went home. I gotta say, she’s a lot more fun than I thought she’d be.”

Tell me about it, I think as a dull ache starts forming in my chest at the knowledge that she’s gone for the night. “Maybe now you’ll stop calling her Mini-Jade?”

He grins. “Probably not.”

The subject turns to what it’d presumably been when I’d shown up — stupid gossip no doubt planted by Chuck and his team — and I return to thinking about where I can possibly go tonight to get some time alone with my thoughts and away from my parents. And then I realize the answer’s right next to me. I kick Josh in the ankle, startling him from the conversation he didn’t really seem that into anyway.

“Ouch. What the hell?” he mutters at me.

“Can I stay in your guest house tonight?” I ask, taking care to keep my voice out of the range of his mic.

He shrugs. “Sure. No problem.”

Huh. Of all people, Josh Chester is the one to come through in my time of need. Just when I thought this night couldn’t get any crazier.

Chapter Seventeen Josh

After half an hour of watching K-drama jiggle one of those ridiculous legs at Sugar, I finally take her hint that she’s ready to leave, and announce that we’re heading out. I can see everyone’s eyes bugging out at the fact that we’re leaving together, but knowing that this is exactly the sort of shit Chuck wants implied, I don’t explain the guest house bit, leaving it for her to protest.

Weirdly, she doesn’t, and I admittedly get a little excited at the thought that the guest house was a bullshit excuse on her part.

At least until we get back to Malibu and that’s exactly where she goes, with a yawn that’s definitely fake and a “good night” that isn’t.

Between the late hour and the alcohol, I don’t even have the energy to jerk off. But I don’t really wanna lie in bed feeling frustrated, either, so I head into my media room to pick a movie instead. I’ve just put The Usual Suspects in the Blu-ray player when a knock sounds at the door, startling me into completely losing my shit.

Of course, it’s just K-drama, wearing the same tee and boxers she borrowed from me the other night.

I hope she’s here for sweatpants.

“What’s up?” I growl, frustrated to have her reinserting herself in my brain when I’d finally come up with a plan to clear her out of it. She winces, and it makes me feel sorta bad. “There’s a toothbrush there, right?” I add, as if being hospitable will make me a little bit less of a dick for practically yelling.

“Yeah, thanks.” She presses her lips together, and I can tell that whatever she came here to say, she no longer wants to say it.

I sigh. “What is it, K-drama?”

“I just…can’t sleep. Were you going to watch a movie? Can I watch with you?”

An image of those legs draped over me on the couch is not doing good things under the shorts I’ve changed into, and I make a mental note to sit on the opposite end of the couch. “Yeah, okay.” I step aside for her to come in, then close the door behind her. “I’m gonna grab a beer from the fridge. You want anything?”

“Just water, please.”

I grab her a bottle and myself one of those noxious light beers that may as well be water. As it is, I’ll have to spend hours in the gym tomorrow to work off tonight’s drinks. When I get back to the couch, she’s already curled up under the furry throw blanket in my favorite corner, but she looks so miserable I don’t even have the heart to make her move. I take a seat on the opposite end and pop the cap off my beer.

“God, I love this movie,” I say as the opening credits start up.

“Oh, is it good? I’ve never seen it.”

“K-drama.” I pause the movie and turn to her. “You’ve never seen The Usual Suspects?”

“Nope. It’s old, isn’t it?”

“Not exactly a classic—1995. I watch it at least once a year. How can you not have seen it?” I pause. “Wait. You know how it ends, right?”

“He was dead the whole time?”

“Wrong movie.” I collapse back into the buttery leather of my favorite couch in the house. “Wow. A person who doesn’t know how The Usual Suspects ends. How can you even call yourself an actor?”

“The movie’s older than I am! That’s not my fault.”

I sigh. “That’s a pathetic excuse. Now watch the movie. It’s gonna blow your mind.”

“Well, now, because you’ve said it, I’ll know exactly what’s coming.”

“No, you won’t. Trust me.” I hit Play.

But apparently she doesn’t trust me, because she spends the entire movie yelling out “Is he Keyser Soze?” every ten minutes or so. It’s both sorta cute and really annoying, and I could not feel smugger than during the final scene when she gasps and I know there’s no way in hell she saw that one coming.