Page 37 of Princes of Hollywood

“That’s a relief. I’d hate to have failed my job on day one.” I let out a little laugh.

“You don’t have to pretend for me.” He rests his head on the back of the couch. “You were nervous when you found me down here alone.”

“You’re right. But partially because I’m in my pajamas and wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up.” I turn to face him more fully. “I don’t know everything about you yet, but I’ll figure it out. I’m committed to your recovery and want to help you however I can.”

“I appreciate that.” He sounds so tired, so different from the man standing up for me earlier today. While I want to say fuck it and see if I can put sex is just sex to the test, I’m still afraid that I’ll fail. Being hung up on a normal guy is bad, but being hung up on superstars that I’ll see all the time on the screen would be tragic.

My life doesn’t need any more tragedy.

I hand him a mug and take a sip of my tea. “From what I understand, part of your recovery is talking to peers and your therapist. Do they know about your insomnia?”

“It’s only recently become a problem again.” He sips at his tea while looking at me over the rim of his mug.

“Do you know what causes it?” I set the mug down.

“My wife.” He chuckles. “My ex-wife. Or rather the lack of. I always slept better with her in my bed.”

“Have you tried a body pillow?” I give him a smile like I know I’m being ridiculous. It’s what anyone would offer as a suggestion. Sleeping alone can be hard when you’re used to having someone right next to you. At least Chad was good for that.

“I could build a fort with all the pillows I have.” His gaze goes to the reflection of the moon in the pool. “The doctors gave me sleeping pills for it, but I don’t like the groggy feeling in the morning.”

“I can understand that. I was on them for a while as a teenager. They made me feel like I was in a fog.” The nightmares I had were worse than any fog, though, so I took the pills until I realized I couldn’t sleep without them. I needed them, and that terrified me. I flushed them down the toilet.

“Did your dad raise you?” He’s steering the conversation away from his problem, but I’m not sure I want to talk about mine. I meet his blue eyes and see the pain lingering in them.

Fuck. Maybe my sad life story will help put him to sleep.

“No.” I pick up my cup and take a small sip. “I went into the foster care system.”

He sets his mug down. “It didn’t work out well for you, did it?”

I shrug. Not sure I want to talk about it, but I can keep it mostly surface.

“I never found somewhere I fit in. It was easier once I stopped trying.” I stretch a leg out before tucking it back under me. “At first, I was so numb, I didn’t try. I think those people really cared. They took me to therapy and tried to help me, but I couldn’t.”

It felt like I never left the apartment. That I was still there and she was still there, so still, not even her chest rose.

Aiden’s hand brushes mine, and I startle back to the present. His blue eyes are haunted as he searches my face. “I’m sure you did the best you could at the time.”

I force a smile and set my tea down. “There were good homes with bad people and bad homes with good people. Some homes had more kids than they could handle. It was easier to hide there.”

“You never found somewhere to stay?”

“I was at a couple for a year or two.” A shiver runs through me. “At that point I wanted it to work. I wanted a place to call home.”

“What happened?” Aiden’s hand rests behind me on the couch.

Yawning, I turn and rest my head against the couch back. “The same thing that always happens. They got rid of me when I became too much.”

The emptiness inside gnaws at my stomach.

Aiden’s arm wraps around my shoulder and pulls me into his side. I don’t resist because I need this connection. “You can be as much as you need to be here, little warrior. I promise not to get rid of you.”

I smile as my eyes shut. “You can’t keep that promise.”

“Watch me,” he whispers.

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