Page 19 of Princes of Hollywood

“Oh, I did.” In his interviews, he always turns stony whenever someone mentions Guardian of Moondust. “The CGI was amazing, and your acting was top-notch.”

He draws his hand away. “Now you’re just being mean.”

It really wasn’t a good movie. Rotten Tomatoes gave it a 2 percent, and that was generous. Though there is a subculture that adores it.

“I only did it because the money was good.” He looks out the side window as we near my apartment building. “I was young and needed the credit.”

“While I admit it wasn’t the best movie I’ve seen of yours, it was still better than two percent.”

“You’ve seen my movies, poppet?” His gaze finds me again and heat rushes to my cheeks. This guy’s ego does not need to be fed. “Have you seen all my movies?”

Biting my lip, I turn into the underground parking. He doesn’t need to know that I have that image of him in Lost in Vegas seared into my brain and bring it out at night when I need relief.

“You have, haven’t you?” His tone is so smug. I’m not going to give him this one. “Where the hell are we?”

The lights flicker as I make my way to my and Chad’s spots. At least the parking didn’t cost extra, but the whole vibe down here leaves a lot to be desired. It’s more murder hotel than home.

“I’m not staying down here alone, poppet. You’ll come back to my dead body.”

I park the car and turn off the engine. Chad’s Jeep is in his spot, so he hasn’t gone anywhere. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have someone over, though.

“Fine.” I release my breath and turn to him. “But you need to wait out in the hallway. Chad will recognize you. I don’t need him going all fanboy and wanting your autograph. Or worse, asking for you to put him in your next movie.”

Roarke gets out of the car. When I join him, he grins. “Was he your first actor, poppet?”

“Yes.” I arch an eyebrow. “But he didn’t exactly make me want another one.”

Roarke follows me to the elevator.

“An out-of-work actor isn’t the same as someone like me. I’m A-list all the way.”

I press the elevator button and look up at him. “I’m working for you. Not dating you. So you might as well be the same.”

The elevator arrives, and Roarke glances in the car with a doubtful look.

“This is a death trap, isn’t it?” Roarke backs up a step.

“It’s perfectly adequate.” I step in and jump to show it’s fine. “See, didn’t even move.”

“Your weight barely qualifies. I’ve been on less scary horror film sets, poppet.” He still looks skeptical as he joins me. I press the button and the doors squeak as they shut. When the elevator groans, his eyes widen and then narrow on me like it’s my fault.

“It’s just an elevator.” I watch the numbers, knowing he’s still looking at me.

The gears grind to a halt at my floor. The doors open to the dimly lit hallway.

“Fuck, poppet, are you trying to kill me?” He steps forward. “At least fuck me before I die.”

“I’m not trying to kill you. I’m just getting my stuff so I don’t have to come back here ever again.” Pretty sure living in my car would be preferable to this place. Even if I had the place to myself.

When I first turned eighteen, I tried living by myself. I’m used to other people. I didn’t like being alone all the time.

A little shudder rushes down my spine as Roarke follows me down the hallway to my door.

I pause with my keys out. “You really need to stay out here.”

His eyes narrow, but he nods. “Leave the door cracked. So he doesn’t do something stupid.”

Shaking my head, I unlock my door. All Chad does is stupid stuff.

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