Page 59 of Act Like You Don't Care
I watched him go with an ache like I was dying in my chest, then staggered through the crowd until I could get to the bar and drown myself.
Much later that night, I vaguely remembered Jack helping me down the hall to one of his guest suites and tucking me into the bed. And then the night reached out and swallowed me whole.
* * *
I wokeup the next morning with a head filled with drums. Giant bass drums being played by monkeys hopped up on meth. I’d never felt anything like it—even throwing up the nothing that was in my stomach didn’t help. I looked like shit too.
The tile in the bathroom was nice and cool, though, and it felt wonderful against my face, so I sprawled on the floor between the bathtub and the vanity and let myself be numb.
I think I dozed off again. The next time I opened my eyes, someone was knocking on the door in the bedroom. “Hang on,” I croaked and climbed slowly to my feet.
Jack leaned against the wall outside my door, looking not much better than I felt and somehow still hot as fuck anyway.
“Hey,” I said and backed out of the way. “Was that you I’m remembering putting me to bed last night?”
“You were pretty out of it,” he said, strolling into the room like sex on a stick. “Fighting with the boyfriend?”
I sighed and slumped onto the end of the bed. “Broke up with the boyfriend. It wasn’t a surprise.” My stomach churned and I suddenly wished Jack would just go away.
But no, he was Jack. He followed me over to the bed and sat down beside me, putting an unwanted arm around my shoulders that I was too tired to shrug off. “Yeah, that happens. Forget that loser. People like us, it’s hard to find someone who understands. What alpha that isn’t into show business is going to see what you need and be able to give it to you?”
Shit, I couldn’t even have a hangover in peace. “It’s fine. Thanks for letting me stay here. I should get home, I need to feed the cat.” I started to get up, but his arm tightened and I fell back down onto the bed.
“We’ve always been good together,” he began, but that was as far as he got.
I grabbed the last two fingers of his hand and used that leverage to remove his grip from my shoulder, an old trick that one of the stunt coordinators on one of my first big movies had taught me. It worked just as well now as it had the day I’d learned it. “Thanks, Jack,” I said carefully and got to my feet. “I’ll think about it. But I don’t think I’m ready to just step into another relationship right now.” I started to pull my shoes on and check for my wallet when he stopped me again.
“You know I’m right,” he said and then he kissed me and I was so tired I just let it happen and didn’t punch him like I should have. He was a big name in Hollywood and I couldn’t afford to piss him off.
I felt absolutely nothing during the kiss—except a longing for something else. Someone I couldn’t have because I didn’t fit into their life and they didn’t fit into mine.
Maybe Jack was right about omegas being built for homemaking.
Maybe it was time to give up on this dream, be happy with my fifteen minutes of fame, and just go home to my mom’s until I could find an alpha who wanted me.
Hangovers were hell.
The kiss finally ended and I waited until I was in the cab before I tried unsuccessfully to wipe the feel of Jack’s mouth away from mine. I felt dirty and hopeless and tears stung my eyes as I realized that pained feeling in my chest and stomach was actually me wishing I could go find Miles and talk to him about this and feel his arms around me. That was stupid, though. He didn’t need an omega who was always gone away on location, or working long hours on set, or throwing tantrums because he opened a door for them. He deserved someone who could be there for him, as much as I knew he would be there for his omega.
I hoped he or she was happy with him and treated him well. He deserved it.
Badness greeted me at the door. I set the deadbolt and the alarm, then picked her up to hug her and bury my face in her soft fur. “I’m sorry,” I told her. “I know you liked him too.” I needed to be a better cat dad. Maybe I’d get her some new toys.
She squirmed in my arms and jumped down, stalking over to her dish and looking at me expectantly. “Yes, I know. Breakfast.” I put out her food before shambling to the bathroom.
I looked like shit. My mouth was red and swollen and I realized I was still unconsciously trying to wipe the feel of Jack’s lips off mine.
As if that had been the trigger, I turned the shower on as hot as I could stand it and jumped in, peeling out of my clothes under the near scalding spray. I scrubbed and soaped until my skin was raw and I still didn’t feel any better.
I needed to get away from this town for a little while. We’d be starting preproduction on Wirechild in five weeks.
A beach. That’s what I needed. A beach, hot sand, drinks with little umbrellas. Maybe a group of handsome young alphas playing volleyball in the corner of my field of vision, just a part of the scenery.
No, no alphas. I wanted a break from alphas, at least for a while.
I got out of the shower and called Will, dripping water all over my bedroom floor as I gave him instructions to book me someplace hot and south and private. Then I made my circuit of the apartment, closing curtains, checking locks, and, finally, when I was as secure as I could be, I went to bed and slept the rest of the day away.
Miles
