One Wild Night (Hollywood Chronicles #1)(38)

Oh, there was a clear answer for that.

Bottom-line—Paxton Myles was a jerk.

A horrible, terrible, lying, manipulative jerk who’d taken advantage of me.

And I’d let him.

Like a fool, I’d let him, and now here I was, stranded in a foreign country without a dime to my name.

Just great.

Those tears in my eyes burned hot, and I slumped down as resignation came sliding in.

Overwhelming.

Overbearing.

I choked, nodded in acceptance. “Thank you for your help.” Really, the only help she’d aided in was driving the knife a little deeper into my bleeding heart.

Reminding me the cost of being a #PaxtonMylesSlut.

Kendall’s words rang through my mind like a tease. Did I really think I was any different? Did I really think he cared about me? Did I really think I was anything more to him than another conquest, easy entertainment, until something better came his way?

My heart squeezed.

Squeezed so tightly I felt the physical pain of it.

Because I had.

I’d thought he was so much different than the tabloids made him out to be.

My hands were shaking when I slung the strap of my carry-on bag over my shoulder and grabbed the handle of my suitcase. I dragged it behind me, my footsteps weak as I stumbled away from the counter.

I looked around, and a choked cry scraped from my raw throat when it all finally came crashing down.

I had no place to go.

No money.

And I was going to have to suck it up and call Elle to bail me out.

It was all weighted and compounded by this stupid broken heart.

My free card had cost me everything.

Away from the crowds, I sank down onto a row of seats and dropped my face into my hands.

I tried to hide it. To keep it quiet. But another sob tore free. This time loud and ripping. Full of the pain that roared inside of me.

It hurt.

God, it hurt, and I hated that it did. But I’d fallen for a fairytale when I knew they weren’t real.

With my face buried in my hands, I sobbed. These big, heaving sobs. Scrubbing my hands over my face, I sniffled and tried to compose myself.

It was time I pulled up my big girl panties and figured out a way to get home.

I lifted my head and my shoulders.

I blinked through the tears.

Great.

Now I was hallucinating.

I’d lost my job and my heart and now I was going to lose my mind.

Because my breath hitched when I saw a man riding down the escalator, wearing the same tux minus the jacket I swore Paxton had worn to the premiere, his head dropped between his shoulders while he anxiously roughed his fingers through his brown hair.

Every part of me stirred in recognition.

Stop it, I silently scolded myself, hoping it wasn’t actually uttered aloud like the crazy person I was becoming. Because, let’s be real, the last thing I needed was to start talking to myself.

Then the man’s head snapped up.

Brown eyes.

Chiseled face.

The man who owned hearts around the world.

Most notably mine.

Shock flashed across his face, before it shifted into the most striking sort of relief.

It was all mixed with remorse and a hundred apologies.

My heart thudded in my chest.

It was him.

It was really him.

And I didn’t know if I wanted to drop to my knees in my own relief or rush across the floor and pound my fists into his chest.

Or maybe kiss him and beg him to never let me go.

Because the hurt and shame he’d caused me still tumbled through me like jagged, sharp rocks that scraped my insides, while hope blossomed bright.

He was there.

He stepped off the escalator and then stopped, staring at me from across the space. Unable to stop myself, I pushed to my feet, the breaths jutting from my lungs.

Hurt and hope and this love I shouldn’t feel spun around me like a windstorm.

They filled the air between us, and for the longest time, we just stood there…staring.

As if we were both trying to catch up to the moment.

Then his feet were moving, long strides eating up the floor, before his big hands were on my face and his mouth was on mine and he was kissing me.

Kissing me possessively and tenderly at the same time.

I gasped out, my hands curling in the fabric of his shirt.

“Oh, God, Kaylee…I thought I’d lost you. Fuck, I thought I’d lost you. Thank God, thank God.” The words were a rumble against my lips, and confusion spun through my mind.

“Why?” The cry escaped up my throat. “Why would you do this to me?”

Why did you change your mind? Why are you here?

He pulled back, still holding my face in his hands. “How could you think I would? After everything I told you, Kaylee? You really think I’d offer you a check as a parting gift?”

“I…” I stammered, searching the sincerity of his face.

“Kendall has always thought she knows what’s best for me. She’s been controlling my life for years, and I’ve let her. Because none of that shit really mattered to me, Kaylee. I let her make decisions for me, because in the end, it didn’t matter because I didn’t care. Nothing mattered. Not until you.”

“Oh.” It left me on a shocked breath.

He dropped his forehead to mine. “She’s gone, Kaylee. The second I found out what she did, I fired her, because I won’t let anything come between you and me.” He pulled back, those eyes latching on mine. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”