Page 56 of In Love with Lewis Prescott
“Shallow shit?” Lewis barks.
“Yeah. S-H-A-L-L-O-W shallow. Really fucking shallow, my man. You want me to say it in a different way? You’re giving that ass away for free. How do you think that makes you look? Like an attention whore who can’t help but show off his body. It’s brutal, but my man, it’s the truth. And who’s gonna wanna work with that?”
Lewis’s face turns red as he swallows back what I assume is a string of profanity.
“Trent. Stop.”
Muffled profanity blasts from Lewis’s phone.
“I appreciate every opportunity you’ve helped me get, but you don’t get to talk to me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m a piece of garbage. You work for me, remember?”
This time muffled stammering is all I hear.
“I posted that photo because I wanted to. And it’s gotten a positive response. It’s a way for me to connect with fans while I’m hiding out. That’s important to me.”
Another bitter laugh from Trent. The muscles in my neck and shoulders freeze at just how antagonistic this guy is.
“What a mistake letting you stay in California was,” Trent says. “I should have pushed harder for you to leave. You should have listened to me. You should have gone home to that tiny town in the boonies where your parents live in Kansas or Colorado or wherever the fuck. But no. You had to be a diva and do it your way, didn’t you?”
Lewis’s entire face and neck flare red, like he’s swallowing lava.
“This would have been a million times easier if you’d just gone and stayed with your family,” Trent mutters.
“You know how I feel about my family. Don’t ever bring them up.”
I jolt at the way Lewis bites out those words. Pain flashes in his hazel eyes. For a moment I swear they go teary, but then he blinks and it’s gone.
Trent is still shouting when Lewis hangs up on him. He tosses his phone onto the coffee table, then turns away. All I can see is his back as he hunches over and rests his hands on his hips.
For a few seconds, I don’t say a word or try to approach him. He’s clearly distraught and might need a bit to collect himself. But I don’t last long. Because even though I can’t see his expression, I can tell he’s hurting. It’s in the slump of his shoulders, the shallow breaths he takes, the way his head droops forward.
I slowly walk up to him and touch my hand to his arm. “Hey.”
He twists his head to me, like he’s just now remembering that I’m here.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He opens his mouth but quickly closes it before shaking his head and staring at the floor. I step into his space and slowly slink my arms around his waist.
I pause after a second and look up at him. “Is this okay?”
Eyes closed, he nods once. I hug him tight.
I can’t think of a single thing to say that would make this situation better. Clearly from what Lewis said about his family, he’s not on good terms with them.
He’s stiff in my embrace; even his arms remain at his sides. I start to wonder if I should let him go, but after a few seconds, he lifts his arms up, slowly wrapping them around me. When he rests his chin on top of my head, I close my eyes, breathe in, and sink into him.
We stand there for a minute, holding each other, and then he shifts slightly to nuzzle his face into my neck. A heavy sigh falls from his lips in a slow hiss. I close my eyes and hold him extra tight as I process the weight of that single breath. There’s so much Lewis is holding on to, and I wish more than anything I could wave a magic wand and take his pain away.
“Thank you,” he whispers into my hair.
“Always.”
He starts to let go and move out of my hold, but I stop him. “It’s okay if you don’t feel like it, but if you want to talk or vent, I’m here for you.”
