Page 77 of Exrated
“I know…”
“It’s gonna take a while to get over the void, you know?”
“I know.”
Heather narrows her gaze, studying me. “I’ll take you home, but we’re obviously gonna have to get breakfast anyway since fucker in there can’t cook.”
“Fuck off,” Jake calls from the kitchen.
“So, are you two a thing or something?” I ask, arching a brow.
“Uh, fuck buddies. He’s hung, he’s good in bed, and I’m horny. Works out well.”
Nodding my head, I go back inside Tyler’s room to grab my things. I sit on the edge of the bed to slip my shoes on, and my eyes land on a stack of mail on the corner. I take a pen from my purse and scrawl a note on the back of an empty envelope then toss it in the middle of his bed, telling myself sometimes love just isn’t enough before I leave.
Hudson’s staring at me, tapping his fingers on the doorframe. “You’re sure about this?”
“Yeah, I am.”
He nods before pushing away from the wall. “Alright, you’re done as soon as you finish up the scenes I have you booked for.”
I shake my head. “I’m not doing any more scenes.”
Hud’s face reddens and an annoyed laugh rumbles from his chest. “Yeah, that’s not going to work. I’ve got you booked for three more films, and just because you’ve had some moral revelation doesn’t mean I’m going to lose money.”
“Whatever, dude.” I turn my back to him and head toward the door. “I’m sure Benson can do it.” Fuck him. I just quit. His next few movies are not my problem, and it’s not like I’m going to use him for a fucking reference.
“Fine print in the contract,Tyler. You don’t work out your notice, I can sue you.”
I stop mid-stride, my skin heating. Stretching my neck, I tense my jaw before spinning back around to face him.
“I could sue you for all the losses I would incur. Basically, hundreds of thousands and you haven’t been in the industry long enough to afford that, now have you?” A sadistic, bastard-like grin spreads across his face.
“Hud—”
“It’s three films. Three films.”
I want to punch him in his fucking freckled face. Out of instinct, I make my hands into fists. My blood pressure is through the goddamn roof. I don’t like being backed into a fucking corner. “I’m not doing three films!”
“Legally, you have to.” He narrows his gaze on my briefly. “I tell you what. Just give me two. They are sequels, so I need the actor to be you, stop being such an indignant ass. What’s two more films? One today, then we can filmPirates of the Lesbians: Fuck My Cheston Friday.”
I grit my teeth. I don’t want to give into him, but what other choice do I have? He’s right, I can’t afford for him to sue me, and trust me, that fuckface would have the papers drawn up by midday if I walk out of here. “Fine,” I say through a clenched jaw.
“Good. Go get ready. Viagra is by the water bottles.”
Groaning, I head to the dressing rooms to get ready. Two more fucking films. That’s it.
The house is empty when I get home. I feel dirty as shit. All I can smell is Brandi’s candy-scented perfume all over me so I head straight to the shower. As soon as I get out, I see an envelope on the middle of my unmade bed. Smiling, I finish drying my hair with the towel and reach for the note.
Tyler,
As much as I wish this could be our life, it can’t. I’m moving to Atlanta to film a TV series…you’ve got a promising career in an industry I can’t manage sharing you with. As much as we love each other, we can’t change who we are to be together. That’s not how love works.
I’ve loved you since I was six, and I’ll love you until I’m ninety-six, even if you aren’t really mine.
Jemma
Well, fuck.
