Sweet Cheeks(77)

His voice escalates in pitch, in anger, in exasperation, with each and every word he speaks and all I can do is stand against the wall where I’ve moved into the hall and wait. I hope Hayes hasn’t missed something major to do with a movie or a premiere or whatever the hell actors worry about while being here.

And yet at the same time, intuition tells me this conversation has something to do with me. I’m not sure how that’s even possible and yet I do.

“Well it backfired. Big time . . . You did it without permission. You leaked the comment. Let people assume what they wanted and you never once thought about anyone but you. Fucking typical, now isn’t it? Must have not been getting enough attention and so you went and . . . NO!” His voice thunders into the house, echoing off the floors and down the hallway. “I loved you, Jenna. But this? This is why I’m over you. Why I’m done selling my soul to keep your secrets and f*ck my life up in the process. Fuck the non-disclosure. Let them pull it. Let them sue me. See if I care . . .”

Hayes keeps speaking but I don’t hear any of it because all I keep hearing is I love you, Jenna. Or was it loved? The phrase repeats over and over and over in my head. Those three words he didn’t say to me.

I love you, Jenna.

But he did to her.

My feet move on their own. My heart so full it was ready to burst ten minutes ago now feeling like it will implode.





Rage like I’ve never felt before pounds through my veins. Not since that night on the Schilling farm when I saw Danny Middleton forcing himself on Saylor have I been this livid.

It all comes back to Saylor, doesn’t it?

Jenna drones on in my ear yet I don’t hear her bullshit. Can’t listen to another one of her endless self-serving lies. It’s amazing how she used to mean something to me.

And now she means nothing. Nothing except the reason Saylor may walk the other way.

And to think I’m the dumb-shit who went along with this idea. Signed the damn NDA and got roped into her bullshit. But in the end, none of it f*cking matters because she screwed me anyway.

“I had to do it. There was press snooping around and so I threw them a few hints to throw them off.”

A few hints? More like Here’s Saylor. She’s the homewrecker, served on a goddamn platter.

“I loved you, Jenna. But this? This is why I’m over you. Why I’m done selling my soul to keep your secrets and f*ck my life up in the process.”

“You can’t mean that.” Panic fills her voice. “What about my dad? What about the film? You signed a—”

“Fuck the non-disclosure. Let them pull it. Let them sue me. See if I care.” I pace the room, free hand pulling down on the back of my neck as my mind reels an endless loop.

“NO! Please, I can’t fix it but I’ll make it up to you . . .”

When I turn to pace back toward the kitchen, I come face to face with Saylor. Her hair is piled on top of her head, her pink lips are parted, and her cheeks flushed.

But her eyes are swimming with an ocean of hurt.

Oh, f*ck. She knows.

“Saylor.” I throw my phone onto the counter without a thought to Jenna still spewing her bullshit excuses.

“I love you, Jenna?”

Fuck me. Of all the things I said, it’s par for the course she heard that one the loudest. She’s most likely already made it to be something other than how I meant it. And before I can even answer her unspoken question, her shoulders have squared. She’s on the defensive.

And that means her temper isn’t far behind.

“It’s not what you think. Let me explain.” I’m not sure which one I should say first so I say both as fast as possible, knowing I need to stop this before it starts.

“Not what I think?” She folds her arms across her chest. Shifts her feet. Clenches her jaw. “I’m trying to be calm here, Hayes, and not jump to conclusions but I’m having a hard time. Maybe you should explain why you’re so upset. Why you’re talking about image and doing something to someone which sure as hell sounds like you’re referring to me . . . and why you told Jenna you love her when I’m really hoping you actually said you loved her.”

“Jenna’s a mess.” I start the only place I can because the space between Saylor and me feels like the f*cking arctic chill is freezing me out, and so I don’t have time to waste. “She’s been in and out of drug treatment centers for the better part of the last year and a half.” Her eyes widen. Surprise fills them and thank f*ck because it’s a whole helluva lot better to see the surprise than the hurt that was there a few seconds ago.

“It’s Hollywood’s best-kept secret. Everyone knows but no one dares talk about Paul Dixon’s daughter and her little nose candy problem. Shit, I didn’t even know about it for the first six months of our relationship. We were working a ridiculous schedule on The Grifter, and I was either too tired or too preoccupied to notice the signs.”

I think back to how it all started. The mornings she’d miss her call time. The endless excuses. The erratic mood swings.

“I tried to be patient with her. Thought I could help her. I don’t know.” I sigh. Run a hand through my hair. I’m restless. “I was in way over my head, but I liked her. Liked having someone who understood the pressure of the job. It didn’t hurt we were on a remote location in Vancouver so we mostly had each other to pass the time.”