Page 3 of The Last Kind of Kiss
So much for fate.
As soon as Bristol sees me, that annoyingly handsome face of his lights up, and his lips crook into a lopsided grin. “Hi, Lils,” he drawls with that stupid, honeyed lilt of his—the one sprinkled with just the right amount of gravel to make the lower half of me want to wham into his fucking dick like he’s some kind of sex magnet.
And then, the third reaction hits—I bubble with molten-hot rage.
He’s acting like things are good between us. Lils? Seriously? I can’t believe this. I feel like I can’t breathe. And it’s not because I’m stunned into shock; it’s because this douche nozzle is hogging all the oxygen in the room with that big head of his.
Rebecca raises an eyebrow. “Oh, do you two know each other?”
We speak at the same time. Granted, my tone has more of anI’ll-never-forgive-you-for-as-long-as-I-live-and-I-hope-your-future-wife-cuts-your-dick-offkick to it.
I shut her down immediately. “No.”
“Yes,” Bristol says with an ungodly amount of charm.
The casting director next to Rebecca—who’s less ostentatious with her angora cardigan and curly, product-free hair—is oblivious to the tension lingering between the two of us. “This is great news. The chemistry shoot should go smoothly since youtwo already know each other, and then we can start shooting right away.”
Great news.Greater news would be if I found out I had a UTI and chlamydia at the same fucking time.
Bristol closes the distance between us, slings his arm over my shoulder, then pulls me into the side of his hard body. “Lila’s exactly the girl you want for this campaign.”
The casting directors all turn to one another with murmurs of intrigue, allowing me a split second of time to gun Bristol down with a death stare that could put him six feet under…and then some.
“Ass kisser,” I hiss under my breath, physically revolting at how close our bodies are. It makes my skin tingle, and not in the good way.
He maintains a perfect, toothy smile, squeezing the cap of my shoulder with his hand. “Didn’t bother you when it was your ass I was kissing.”
If I wasn’t—ahem—the professional I am, I would slap him right in the face. I can’t believe my luck. For the dream job I’ve been wanting for years, I have to work with the only man who’s ever broken my heart. What kind of karma bullshit is this? I’m a good person! I recycle. I help old people cross the street. I donate to those kids in need advertised in the grocery checkout line. I don’t deserve this.
The best day of my life has quickly turned into the worst. Remember when I said I’d do anything for this job?
I meant anything butthis.
2
KARMA’S A BITCH
BRISTOL
Lila fucking Perkins.
The one girl I’ve been avoiding for the past year, and the same girl who’s been lurking in my mind ever since. I’m not a mastermind by any means. I truly had no idea she’d be here, but I at least could’ve been proactive and asked who my potential costar was going to be.
I haven’t been in the same room with her since the day I called it quits—or more accurately, the day I broke her heart. Yeah, we might share the same friend group because my best friend’s girl is her best friend, but I’ve actively gone out of my way to make myself scarce whenever I know she’s going to be around.
I’m not going to stand here and tell you that I’m the innocent one in all of this…because I’m not. I’m the fucking asshole who screwed her over so badly that I’m surprised she hasn’t dragged my name through the mud by now.
It was the typical boy meets girl. Then boy falls for girl. Then girl falls for boy. Then boy gets scared and protects his fragile masculinity by leading girl on and subsequently stomping on her heart until it’s nothing but a sad pile of mush.
And now we’re potentially going to be working together for months, feeling up each other’s oiled bodies or whatever and pretending like everything is totally fine between us. Just judging by the death glare she’s giving me right now, we’re far from fine. Fine is all the way at the tippy top of an unrealistically high bluff, and we’re scrapping like dogs at the goddamn bottom. I deserve it too. Every dirty look. Every exasperated insult under her breath. She has every right to hate me.I hate me.
Not a day goes by where I don’t miss her. Not a day goes by where I don’t regret ending things. But I knew I couldn’t beg her to take me back—not after the way I threw her aside like she was nothing but a fuck buddy. It wouldn’t be fair to her, and somewhere deep in my subconscious, I already knew that she wouldn’t be interested in seeing me again, much less speaking to me. Did I take the coward’s way out? Absolutely. But I’d convinced myself I was staying away for her well-being, and that pathetic excuse was believable enough to protect my ego…until now.
Lila’s mouth zips into a hard line, and she maintains an air of professionalism while simultaneously failing to hide her blatant disdain for me. “Excuse us for a moment,” she says to the board, wrenching me aside by the elbow.
I stumble after her with my tail between my legs, biting back a hiss as she rips her hand away from my arm. Even though her touch is loaded with hate, it’s the first thing I’ve felt in a long time—the first electrifying zap to remind me of what we used to have…of what Ilost.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she growls, shedding that deceivingly polite façade. An apex predator baring its teeth in defense, as equally beautiful as it is dangerous.
