Page 26 of Speak of the Devil

I chuckle. “Don’t worry. Your car is safe with me.”

“I’m not worried about the car. I was talking about you, Shane.”

If we were any other couple in LA, every green flag would be waving for me to kiss her, but we don’t live in reality. We’re stuck inside the madness of my life. And with that comes long lenses and no privacy. I’m not able to do what I want, so I leave, taking away any option I thought I had back there.

It’s better not to act like we could be a thing anyway. My steps pause as the thought cements in my brain.What am I saying?Tied down is the last thing I want to be, not even in the bedroom. Plus, her life is designed exactly how she planned and is quiet. I bet she lounges around on Sundays and reads or something peaceful like that. She seems happy, and I’m struggling with the surety that being tied to me will taint her joy.

I’m a pro when it comes to trying to blend in. I’m not always successful; my height draws attention for most, but the photographers in LA are used to celebrities trying to move around incognito and have their eyes peeled. When I reach the corner, though, they aren’t looking anywhere but at the front doors of the building.

What would I say if they saw me? Why am I here? Excuses run as fast as I do between cars on the first row, keeping my eyes on the ground and hitting the second lineup of vehicles. I work through that lot and to the back without them even looking around.

I recognize Cat’s Toyota in the vicinity of where she directed me, but also by the ding on the back of her car. I hop in, jamming my legs.Fuck me.Adjusting the seat all the way back, I slide lower, hoping to escape without anyone noticing.

Cracking the window, I listen for my name while cruising responsibly through the parking lot, which I know Cat will appreciate. And then someone yells, “Hey, there he is! Get him.”

Oh fuck.I sit up and go faster, reaching the exit but stopping to look both ways. I’m not getting in an accident for them. When I check the rearview mirror, they’re all over some poor fuck on the steps. As much as I’m relieved they weren’t coming for me, it sucks for that guy. Is nothing sacred in this city?

I look back once more, realizing that guy is basking in the attention. Keep ’em occupied, asshole. I take the long way around, and when I finally pull into the convenience store lot, Cat is already waiting for me.

I don’t have many rules in my life. One night is my specialty, but I’m checking her out like she’s my wife.Fuck.I shake my head, aware this is a unique situation. My wife.Damn.I reach around and scratch the back of my neck, not liking how good that sounds.

That tells me everything I need to know. For her sake, we need to wrap this up and both move on with our lives because she deserves better than a guy who has no interest in settling down.

Rolling down the passenger window, I stop in front of her. “Going my way?”

She opens the door and dips her head in. “Seems so.” She buckles up just as I start to pull onto the main road. “Where are we heading?”

The bottom line is that I like the time I’ve spent with her. I like the way she needs me. It’s different from how most women do. It may be out of necessity, but I can tell it’s not a burden she carries regarding me. We’re a team. Fuck my rules and her responsibilities. I glance over at her and give her my best newsworthy smirk. “Anywhere you want to go.”

She looks ahead as if the world is our playground, then turns back to ask, “You hungry?”

“Starving.”

“The beach, huh?”I relax, taking the last bite of my sandwich.

“It’s grounding,” she declares, letting the wind gently blow across her face. “The sand and sound of the ocean reminds me of my childhood when we would visit my grandma. Coming to the beach was my favorite thing to do.” Looking at me, she holds the remainder of her sandwich in one hand, sitting with her legs crossed. “I come out here to forget about the rat race of LA and just breathe in the salty air.” Studying my face, she asks, “You never get out to the beach anymore?”

I sneak a glimpse of her when she’s not looking. Even with her hair trapped in a band, some strands refuse to be tamed andblow wildly around her face. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, but the wind has stolen most of it away. She’s just as pretty, if not more so. I turn my gaze to the ocean’s choppy waters. “I could bury myself in what I’m missing out on or live the life I have to the fullest.”

“Do you live your life to the fullest?”

“I live. I’ve had experiences most will never get, traveled the world, and met people from every walk of life.”

“Sounds like a dream, but you don’t.”

“I don’t what?”

Wrapping the ends of the sub sandwich in the paper, she tucks it into the bag, and replies, “All those things are amazing, but they don’t sound like your dream.”

“I didn’t set out to get famous.”

“What did you set out to do?”

“Get chicks,” I reply, chuckling.

She laughs, bringing her knees to her chest. “That worked out.”

“It sure did.”

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