Hollywood Rebel by Misti Murphy
Chapter Twelve
Summer
Badass, my not-as-tight-as-Rebel’s-heiney—seriously tipsy me wanted to take a bite out of that firm, round ungph—ass.
Sure, on Friday night when I’d had way too much to drink I might have felt like a rebel, but it’s Monday morning and I could not feel any less of a badass while listening to one of my colleagues drone on about the basketball team he’s managing PR for.
Swimming alone with the worst bad boy in Hollywood might have seemed like a good idea at the time, but by morning I’d come to the conclusion that it really wasn’t. Especially when it came to my attention I’d missed checking in with Burke and the phone tree of shame had been activated.
Yep, that’s how overprotective my brothers are. They call every night without fail. And twice on nights when I go out. In their heads I’m still sixteen years old and making stupid and dangerous mistakes. No matter how hard I try to move on from what happened back then, they can’t. I can only imagine their reaction if they found out I’d fucked up big time. Skinny dipping with Rebel Maddox. Being drunk and alone with the notorious lawbreaker. Breaking the girl code rules of always travelling in pairs and never leaving without each other.
Luckily, they don’t have a clue, and I have no intention of ever filling them in.
Rebel Maddox: Tick Tock, Red. You’re late.
While one of my colleagues talks about the politician he’s working with, I stare at the message that pops onto my phone screen. I start to smile before I catch myself. What is wrong with me? Friday night and now this?
I know that I shouldn’t trust the Hollywood bad boy. It isn’t safe and it isn’t smart. He went to prison for assault. That should be warning enough. Pushing my lips back into a straight line, I type a quick reply. Monday morning meetings are non-negotiable. I’d told him that on Friday and reminded him yesterday when he messaged me to order me not to be late.
Me: I’ll be there as soon as my meeting with Bernadette wraps up.
I shouldn’t let him goad me into doing stupid things like breaking into a hotel pool and swimming naked and almost getting caught by security. Even if mom made me promise to experience new things.
I highly doubt she expected accidentally touching his erect penis would also end up being one of those new experiences. I don’t think she’d necessarily disapprove though. She had a soft spot for stories with a cocky hero. And on the days when she was too tired to read, she’d swoon through Dirty Dancing or Step Up or Crazy Stupid Love. Movies where the bad boy is misunderstood and also trustworthy.
I get the notion that I can trust Rebel Maddox to be exactly who he says he is. Perhaps that’s because he’s fought me so hard when it comes to his reputation. But it’s just as likely that I’m a sucker.
After all, movies are just movies, and real life doesn’t turn out the way you expect it will. Sometimes the hero walks out when it all gets too hard. Sometimes there is no happy ending. Sometimes a bad boy is exactly that, no matter how charming and fun he might be.
And I could definitely have done without that steel length prodding me in the thigh, or the resultant sparks that travelled at lightning speed to my vagina. Tingles that are back again right now because I keep recalling the moment of contact. Ugh, why can’t I stop thinking about it?
That was the weekend.
Today is a new day. I am done letting Rebel Maddox one up me. I talked him into giving me a chance to show him what I can do, I can talk him into following through. Which is why I have us booked for a meeting and tour through a new distillery where they create a whisky that tastes aged without the years it takes to create the real deal. He has a chip on his shoulder about me trying to fix him, so I want to show him that I’m not doing that. Only trying to enhance his public image.
Rebel Maddox: So? Get up and walk out.
Rebel Maddox: Don’t roll your eyes at me. I know you’re bored out of your mind.
Rebel Maddox: Come on, be a badass bitch.
I bite the end of my pen. Monday morning meetings are always boring. Listening to each of my colleagues hash out their latest and greatest ideas on how to improve their clients’ brands and reputations isn’t exactly riveting. Half the time, my mind wanders off despite how hard I try to stay engaged. Especially when we get to Jolene and her fitness influencer.
Me: The meeting will wrap up soon.
Me: What is with your preoccupation with trying to make me do the wrong thing?
“Summer?”
“Sorry?” I glance up from the screen to find Bernadette staring at me expectantly.
All other eyes in the room are watching me too. She must have asked a question, and I missed it, thanks to my client from hell. He’s such a demanding jerk, so much…fun. Ugh.
“How is it going with the Hollywood Rebel? Have you made any headway?”
“Erm.” I glance at my device again as it vibrates.
Rebel Maddox: Is it wrong if it feels good?
Rebel Maddox: Time to go, Red.
Jolene smiles and flips the end of her ponytail over her shoulder. “I’ve made some progress with Mandy Valentine.”
“I believe Bernadette asked me a question,” I cut her off.
“Sorry.” Jolene stares down her nose at me. “I thought you might need a bit more time.”
“Rebel Maddox and I have discussed his public image at length. He sees a need for improvement and we’re working on a social media campaign to improve his connection with fans and show that he’s working on bettering himself. I also have a sponsorship deal in the works and interviews organized with a couple of networks. E! Online and James Corden are two—”
A noise in the hallway outside the conference room distracts me. It grows louder, and a breathless Sue Ellen bursts into the room. “So sorry, Bernadette. Rebel Maddox. He’s here. For Summer.”
“He’s here?” Oh my God, he’s here. Of course he is. Of course he hasn’t been impatiently waiting for me at home like a normal person. I should have known he would push into the meeting like the world stops for him.
He grins at me from the door. Reaches up and taps the top of the door frame. The hem of his T-shirt rides up over his abs. Every woman in the room is probably staring at that taut sliver of skin right now with its sparse line of dark hair that leads down, down, down.
“Bernadette.” He acknowledges my boss with the briefest of courtesies.
“Rebel, it’s nice to see you.” She starts to rise from her chair.
“Don’t get up,” he tells her, turning his blue orbs on me. They’re bright with amusement. “I’m here for Summer. We have a lot of work to do.”
“Of course,” Bernadette says.
“Five minutes.” I stand my ground the way I would when starting a diet on Monday and then finding chocolate cake in the break room. I know I’m going to give in, but damn it, a girl has to make an attempt at keeping her resolutions.
“Now,” he barks.
“Go,” Bernadette encourages me.
“Yes, Summer Heart. Let’s go.” He smirks at me before pivoting on his feet and walking back into the hallway.
“I’ll email you my notes,” I tell Bernadette as I hurry after him. Once in the hallway, I close the door before turning on him. “Are you serious? I was twenty minutes away.”
“And now that’s twenty minutes I do not have to wait.” He leads the way back to the bull pen.
“I need to grab my things.” I stop at my desk to collect my laptop and stow it in my bag then pull the strap over my shoulder.
“You have nothing personal on your desk,” he observes.
“Mmm. I guess I’m not really into that stuff at work.”
“How am I supposed to find out what makes you tick if you don’t leave parts of you lying around everywhere?”
Is he trying to get to know me? Is that what all this is? “You’re a client. I’m your publicist. Can we please try to remember that?”
“I don’t know, Red. Can we?”
I really hope so. I pass Sue Ellen, who is back at her desk. She glances up through her lashes at Rebel. I’d bet the box of chocolates in my desk that she’s still staring after him when we step into the elevator.
I don’t blame her. He’s beautiful in a dangerous, wild, arrogant kind of way. If you’re into that type of thing.
His cologne scents the air in the elevator. Makes my mouth water. It’s sexy, and the idea of rubbing up against him like a cat to cover myself in it is tempting. He takes his phone out and taps on the screen.
I try to ignore it. Whoever and whatever he’s messaging is none of my business. “I hope you’re ready to give me you’re A-game today, because I’ve planned a marketing opportunity that even you will appreciate.”
My phone, which has been in my hand this whole time, beeps. I glance at the screen to see a new message.
Rebel: Are you still thinking about how you almost let me fuck you in that pool, kitten? Because I am.
“Are you serious?” I smash my finger on the notification to make it go away. My heart races. We’d almost kissed. He’d grazed my thigh with his cock head. But my willingness to be so close to him—without clothing—was courtesy of the alcohol. And the almost kiss was from the rush of doing something naughty.
Touching his dick was an accident.
He tips his head in my direction. His lips curl up teasingly. “What?”
I should be mad. But I’m growing accustomed to him. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. What is wrong with me? “I can’t believe you texted me that.”
“You’re right. What was I thinking? I should have just asked you.” The elevator doors open to let us into the lobby. He smirks and smacks my ass cheek, causing me to jump with a yelp.
A couple of men in power suits are waiting for the elevator. One of them starts to grin.
“So, Red, are you still thinking about me fucking you?” Rebel winks and swaggers out in front of me.
“Never. Ever. Ever.” I grind my teeth with my hand clutching my sore flesh through my skirt. The men openly stare at me as I walk past them, my cheeks on fire. Both sets. My face is burning and so is my ass. I glare at the grinner. “Ever.”
“Hurry up, Red,” Rebel calls out, already at the entrance.
I catch up to him on the pavement. Shove in front of him and jab him in the chest with my finger. “One thing. And I’ll repeat it as many times as you need me to. I was not about to have sex with you.”
“You’re obsessed with my cock.” He shrugs.
“I am not. It was an accident. Touching it. Was an accident.”
He pushes his mouth to one side, crinkles his nose.
“What?” I snap.
“It’s just I’d believe you if it were the first time. But you have to admit the fact that you’ve touched it twice is pretty damning evidence.”
“OhmyGod.” The words come out on a rush. “Your giant ode to your ego doesn’t count. I tripped over my own freaking feet.”
“Sure, Red.” He darts around the hood of the Impala.
“It was.” I take a step toward the car only to find a crack in the pavement that sends me to my knees. “Oof.”
“Summer? You okay?” He’s jogged over to me and crouched down in front of me before I’ve even had a chance to blink.
My ankle throbs and so do my knees. I’ve grazed them, but thankfully there’s no blood. I clasp my hurt ankle and wince. “Ouch. That was so not cool.”
“Those heels are a death trap.” He glowers at them.
“No, my mind doesn’t always connect to my feet properly. I’m occasionally clumsy.”
“I can see that.” He peels my hands from my ankle and starts to examine it. “Can you move it?”
“It’s fine, really.” It hurts and will probably bruise, but it’s not broken, and I doubt it’s sprained. “I do this all the time. I also run into walls sometimes. For instance, the night we met.”
He huffs out an awkward chuckle. “Had to ruin my fun, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t want there to be any confusion.” I glance up to find him watching me. Whatever it is I see in his gaze… It’s not hard and pushy. Or cocky. There’s disappointment, maybe. Which is so far out of character for him that I feel a twinge of regret for making him doubt himself.
“Okay, I might be a little bit obsessed,” I pinch my fingers close together. “Like a teensy bit.”
“Thanks, kitten.” He smiles at me as though he appreciates my attempt but doesn’t truly believe me.
I almost open my mouth and I swear I’m about to admit that he’s been starring in my dreams since the night we met. What on earth is wrong with me? We’re working together. I’m working for him. And that’s not even taking into account the man’s ego. I don’t want to encourage him. A fling with him would only complicate things. And if it got out and my brothers found out… well, I’m not prepared to deal with that.
“How about we get you off the concrete?”
“That would be great.”
He picks me up like I’m light as air. His arms are strong, and his chest is warm. His breath smells cool and sweet like those breath strips he uses. Minty fresh. I’m tempted to wrap my arms around his neck, but he places me in the car before I can give in.
He races around Emmy and climbs in behind the wheel. “I’m going to take you back to the house so you can rest it. I’ve got ice in the freezer.”
“No.” I rotate my ankle. It’s a little sore, but it won’t take long to ease up. This kind of thing is practically routine for me at this point. “We have a meeting at Copper Rock.”
“Red,” he growls.
“I’m fine,” I insist as we get on the road. “And you can’t keep fobbing me off. If you want Hollywood beating on your door again, you actually have to put in the effort.”
“I left the house, didn’t I? Showed my face in public, like you wanted me to.”
I close my eyes and count to three. “I didn’t ask you to disrupt my night out or make a spectacle of yourself at my work. In fact, I expressly tried to avoid both of those scenarios. I need you to start listening to me, otherwise we’re both wasting our time, and you might as well let me out of this car right now and take up herding coyotes at a nudist mountain retreat in Colorado.”
“You like the idea of sending me far away, don’t you?” He snorts in amusement.
“For my sanity? A little bit.” I glance away from him. And I could do without the tingles he gives me with just a look. Or the way my pulse races when he touches me. And the excitement that comes when he’s pushy and talks me into doing things I never thought I’d do. I could absolutely do without that.
“Wow, Red. Tell me how you really feel.”
I peek at him quickly enough to catch that his smile falters and falls. The vulnerability I see on his face makes him look younger. Like he’s really not as arrogant as he seems. Like maybe he fakes it like I do my bravery.
How I really feel? If only he knew that I find myself drawn to him more than any man I’ve ever met.
I know you don’t want anyone to fix you.” I toss in air quotes for emphasis. “But that doesn’t mean you have to fight me every step of the way.”
“Okay,” he says. “Tell me about Copper Rock.”