Wicked Heart (Starcrossed #3)(73)

Liam and I are making love when something impinges on my consciousness.

It’s a song. Tinny and far away.

I try to ignore it.

Liam lifts me until I’m straddling him, and his face melts into pure adoration as I ride him.

“What’s that noise?” he asks, as he grips my hips and urges me to move faster.

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Fuck me.”

He flips me onto my back and takes over by pressing my wrists into the bed. He thrusts, hard and deep.

“God, Liam . . .”

“I’ve been fantasizing about this since yesterday in the alley. Nothing feels as good as being inside you.”

He increases his pace. Grabs my leg and pulls it up to his waist. Slides home, time and again.

God, the pleasure. The all-consuming, spine-tingling pleasure.

“Ohhhhh . . . Liaaaaaam . . .”

“Hey, Mona McMoany. Answer your phone.” Then someone’s shaking me. “Lissa! Wake up!”

I sit up with a start, still in the throes of my dream. Josh is sitting on my bed with my ringing phone in his hand.

I take a quick look at the clock. . 4.45 a.m.

“Who the hell is calling at this hour?”

“It’s Mary. Please answer it. It’s been ringing for five minutes.”

I take the phone. “Mary?”

“Finally! Where have you been?”

I rub my face. “Sleeping. What else do you expect at this hour?”

“Well, get up,” she says. “We’re having an emergency production meeting. Meet us in the conference room as soon as you can.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“The shit’s about to hit the fan is what’s going on. I’ll fill you in when you get here.”

She hangs up without signing off. A ball of lead falls into my stomach.

Oh, Liam. You did it, didn’t you? You’ve broken up with Angel and told everyone about us. Shit.

I throw my covers back and get out of bed. “Come on, Josh. We have to go.”

“Why?”

“Reasons. Move it.”

Thirty minutes later we enter the conference room. The whole production team is there, as well as Angel and Liam. Angel looks like she’s been crying. Liam looks like he wants to murder someone.

Oh, hell. This is really happening. He told her. I honestly didn’t think he would.

I’ve dreamed about what it would be like to have Liam choose me too many times to count, but not once did I think it would be in such a public way. I sneak a glance at Mary and Marco. They don’t seem mad at me. Why don’t they seem mad?

Next to Liam, Anthony Kent shuffles a stack of magazines in front of him. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice. We have a situation that needs to be resolved, so let’s all get on the same page before a shitstorm of epic proportions lands firmly in our laps.”

He passes around the magazines. When one lands in front of me, my mouth goes dry, which is remarkable considering I want to vomit.

The front cover shows a grainy image of Liam kissing a girl. In an alley. In the rain. The angle of the picture hides my face, and my wet hair looks more brown than blond, but still: It’s me. The headline reads, EXCLUSIVE SCANDAL! HOLLYWOOD LOVE RAT CAUGHT IN ALLEY CLINCH! Underneath is the caption, “Trouble in paradise for America’s Sweethearts? Cheating Liam Quinn seduces mystery brunette in NYC.”

“Oh, shit,” Josh says beside me. He shoots me a sideways glance. He suspects.

“Shit, indeed,” Mary says as she takes off her glasses and cleans them.

Across the table, Angel shakes her head. I can barely breathe.

Anthony lays his hand on Liam’s shoulder. “This magazine will hit newsstands in a couple of hours, and yes, it looks bad, but we’re not here to judge. We’re here to go into damage control.”

Mary gives Liam a disapproving glare. “What the hell were you thinking, sunshine?”

He doesn’t look at her. “I wasn’t.”

“Who is this girl?” Marco asks. “Will she be an ongoing issue?”

“No.” Liam’s face is hard. “She’s just some chick I met in a bar. I was drunk. I did something stupid. It won’t happen again.”

Heat engulfs my face as bile rises in my throat.

Opposite me, Anthony crosses his arms. “Liam and I have spoken about this in detail, and he assures me it was just a drunken kiss that meant nothing. He wants to put it behind him and move on.”

I swallow down another bout of nausea. It wouldn’t hurt so much if I didn’t suspect it was the truth. I flip the magazine open to the story inside. There are more pictures. My legs wrapped around Liam. His hands on my breasts. My fingers gripping his hair. Seeing it like this, it seems so seedy.

“The first thing we do,” Anthony continues, “is make sure everyone is clear on the narrative. No one but Mary and I speaks to the media. If we stand strong and united, we’ll weather this storm. The woman in these pictures is unidentified, but to America, she’s simply a cheap tramp who seduced a famous movie star in the hope of getting her fifteen minutes of fame. Are we clear?”

Everyone nods, even Liam. He’s staring down at the table, fists clenched, jaw tight. He can’t even look at me.

Angel is also looking at the table. She seems shell-shocked. I curl my fingers into my palms until I feel the sting of my fingernails. So Liam didn’t tell her about us and she still gets her heart ripped out? What the fuck is happening right now?