Wicked Heart (Starcrossed #3)(45)

He pulls me up into a standing position, and I grip his biceps until I regain my balance on my heels. Once I’m steady, he loosens his grip. “Okay, well. Clearly that needs some practice. Want to try it again?”

“I don’t know. Are you going to insult my technique again?”

“That depends on whether or not you continue to suck. So try not to, okay?”

I can hear Josh and Angel laughing as Liam guides me through the sequence again. Soon, I’m laughing, too.

Okay, fine. I’m a terrible dancer. So sue me. Yet another reason I’m backstage, not onstage.

We swap partners again, and dance for a bit longer, but the wine and the exertion soon take their toll. Angel starts yawning, and it’s not long before we all join in. It’s been a big week for all of us.

After we agree to call it a night, Angel texts her driver, pays the bill, and we head down to the street. We’ve barely stepped out the door when a barrage of flashbulbs hits us.

“Dammit,” Liam mutters. “Everybody, run for the car.” He pushes through the throng of photographers, then holds the car door open and ushers Angel and Josh inside. My short legs and high heels make sure I get there last. I’m about to climb inside when I’m shoved hard in the shoulder by a burly man who’s jostling to get shots of Liam.

“Elissa!” Liam reaches for me as I stumble back on my heels, but it’s too late. I trip over the curb and make a grunting sound as I fall heavily onto my hip.

Dammit. That’s going to leave a mark.

I’m awkwardly trying to navigate around my tight skirt to get myself upright when I’m nearly blinded by machine-gun flashes, right in my face.

“Back the hell off,” Liam growls before the owner of the flash is hauled backward. A young photographer in a baseball cap hits the wall with a thud, and I scramble to my feet to see Liam tear the camera out of his hands.

“Hey! Give that back!” The pap reaches for his equipment, but Liam yanks out the memory card and pockets it before throwing the camera to the ground. The pap howls in dismay. “That’s a three-thousand-dollar camera, asshole!”

“Bill me,” Liam mutters. He shoves more bodies out of the way to get to me. “Get the hell away from her!”

He leans down and searches my face. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Embarrassed more than anything.”

The photographers yell at him to look in their direction, but Liam ignores them all as he wraps his arm around me and guides me toward the car. I limp around the pain in my hip.

When we’re safely inside, Liam yanks the door shut so hard, the whole car shakes. Flashes continue to light up the interior as the paps press their lenses against the window.

“Get us out of here,” Liam says to the driver. The engine revs as we pull out into the relentless New York traffic.

I lean back in my seat and exhale. “Well, that was a bracing way to end the evening.”

“Are you okay?” Angel touches my shoulder.

“Fine. No permanent damage.”

“Fucking animals,” Liam says as he examines my arms for scrapes. “They behave like that and then wonder why we get pissed.”

Angel gives him a disapproving look. “Still, you shouldn’t have broken his camera. You know that sort of reaction is gold to them. You’re going to be splashed all over TMZ within the hour.”

“The bastard was taking photos up Elissa’s dress,” Liam says with disgust. “He’s lucky I only broke his camera.” He pulls the memory card from his pocket and snaps it in half. “At least those pictures won’t show up on some sleazy Web site.”

Angel nods. “He’ll come after you for damages.”

“Let him. He won’t be the first. Or the last.” He sits back and stares out the window, and I can still feel the anger coming off him in waves.

“How did they know you were at Bella Vita?” Josh asks.

Angel turns to him. “One of the staff probably tipped them off. It happens all the time. Paps pay good money to people who call in celebrity sightings. Before you know it, one pap turns into two, and two into three. Then there’s a whole swarm of them. They’re like piranhas. The merest smell of a famous face and they go into a frenzy.”

Josh studies her. “Unlike Quinn, you seem pretty calm about the whole thing.”

She shrugs. “I’m a senator’s daughter and my sister is America’s favorite journalist; I’ve been getting papped for most of my life. I’ve developed a more philosophic approach than Liam. I see the paps as a necessary evil. Like it or not, they help keep our profile high, which makes us more valuable commodities. They’re sort of like a barometer for our popularity. The day they stop foaming at the mouth to get our picture, I know our fairy-tale ride in Hollywood is over.”

Liam looks over at her. “Sometimes, don’t you wish for it to be over so we can live normal lives? Or is that just me?”

Angel stares at him for a second, and I feel like I’m intruding on a private moment between them. A wistful expression passes over her face, and Liam gives her the smallest of smiles.

Angel glances briefly at me and Josh, then looks out the window. “Sometimes.”

Liam’s quiet for a moment, then he turns to me and gestures to my hip. “Does it hurt?”