Breaking Hollywood(9)

He tosses his stuff onto the wooden coffee table in front of him, which looks like it probably cost more than my car.

Then, he sits down on the massive white leather sofa that faces the  view, putting his foot up onto the footstool. He sets his crutches next  to him. "I'm just gonna sit a minute, and then I'll show you around."

"No need. You sit and relax. I'll show myself around. I can snoop better if you're not tailing me."

I grin, and he chuckles.

"Have at it." He rests his head against the back of the sofa.

"You need me to get you anything?" I ask, walking over to him.

"Nah, I'm fine. Just gonna rest a sec." He closes his eyes.

I look at his face. His full lips are pressed together. Enviably long  lashes sweep his high cheekbones. His hair is all mussed up.

Lord, he's pretty.

"Speedy, are you staring at me?"

I almost jump out of my skin. Busted.

"No! Of course I'm not," I squeak. I step away, my heels suddenly sounding a lot louder on the marble floor.

He chuckles darkly.

I'm glad his eyes are still closed, as my face is flaming.

"Right, I'm going to look around. Be back in a few." I drop my bag on the floor by the sofa.

"Don't go looking in my underwear drawer, Speedy."

"Why? What's in there?"

He pops open one eye. "My underwear."

"Funny." I stick my tongue out at him and then head for the door on the other side of the room.

"You're gonna look now to see if there is actually anything else in there, aren't you?"

"Of course I am."

His laughter follows me as I walk through the door and into a hallway.

I discover a sublime, large kitchen that looks like it's never been used  and a utility room. Two bedrooms, both with en suite bathrooms. I guess  which bedroom is Gabe's right away. Aside from the fact that there are  dirty clothes tossed on the chaise, it has framed movie posters of  Raging Bull, Taxi Driver, and all The Godfather films up on the wall.  And there's a photograph of him with Robert De Niro.

Must be a De Niro fan.

There's also a framed picture of him and Tate on his nightstand. No picture of his parents though.

And there's a Stephen King novel with a pair of reading glasses next to it.

It somehow seems sweet that he wears glasses for reading.

His bathroom is gorgeous. It has one of those freestanding claw tubs and a walk-in shower with one of those massive showerheads.

I salivate at the thought of using both. My soon-to-be ex-apartment only has a shower, and the water pressure sucks.

Also, there's an office and a home gym.

I manage not to go snooping through drawers and cupboards even though  the temptation is great, and when my self-tour is done, I go back into  the living area.

"That dildo and lube in your nightstand are for personal use, right?" I tease as I walk over to him.

I know he's sleeping right away. Not only because I didn't get a rise  out of him, but his mouth his slack, and an unlit cigarette is dangling  from it.

He must have been exhausted if he fell asleep before he could even light his cigarette.

He looks so adorable. I'm tempted to snap a picture, but that would be super creepy.

I gently remove the cigarette from his mouth and the lighter from his  open palm. I put the cigarette back in the pack, which is on the sofa  beside him.

God knows where he got that pack of cigarettes. He probably has boxes  stashed all over his apartment. He'd need to with the way he smokes.

I leave them next to him in case he wants a smoke when he wakes up.

I grab a blanket off the other sofa and lay it over him, covering him up.

Then, I head to the kitchen, thinking I'll cook some food, ready for when he wakes up.

Only I open the fridge, and it's empty, except for bottled water, beer, and what looks to be an old carton of Chinese food.         

     



 

I try the freezer and get vodka and ice cream.

I look in the cupboards, and they're bare, except for chips, cookies, and peanut butter.

Does this guy not eat?

Looks like I need to go to the store.

I grab a bottle of water and head back into the living area.

I put the water next to Gabe, so he'll have a drink if he wakes up before I get back from the store.

I grab his key from the table and get my bag, and then I head for the elevator.

Harry's at the security desk when I get down there.

"How's Mr. Evans doing?" Harry asks me.

"He's sleeping at the moment," I tell him. "I need to go to the store,  as it's like Old Mother Hubbard's cupboard in his kitchen."

Harry laughs.

"Do you know where the nearest store is?"

"Take a right out of here, and there's a store on the corner of the  block. Couple of minutes' walk. It'll have everything you need."

"Brilliant. Thanks."

I head out onto the street and take the directions Harry gave me, and I find the store, no problem.

I grab a cart and fill it up with groceries. Then, I pay and pack my stuff up into a few bags.

Thank God I'm not too far from his building, as I've got a lot of stuff.

I lug the bags back to his building.

Harry rushes to open the door when he sees me. "Do you need a hand,  getting these upstairs?" he asks, taking a couple of bags from me.

"No, I'll be fine. If you could just get me in the elevator, that'd be great."

Harry puts the bags on the floor in the elevator for me, and I climb in.

"You sure you don't want a hand?"

"No, I'll be fine. But thank you." I don't really want him to come up with Gabe sleeping on the sofa.

Using Gabe's key, I get the elevator moving.

It opens up, and I grab all the bags. My heels click on the floor, so I  kick them off. Barefoot and being quiet, I carry the bags through the  living area, heading to the kitchen.

Gabe is still sleeping.

I dump the bags on the counter and then start unpacking the food.

When I'm done, I start on making some soup for Gabe when he wakes.

I hope he likes carrot and ginger soup. It's one of my favorites.

I love cooking. I used to cook for Jeremy all the time. It's not so much fun though when you're only cooking for yourself.

I make up the vegetable stock I bought. Then, I chop up the carrots and  boil them in water to soften them. I pour the stock into the sparkling  clean blender. Add in the carrots, ginger, turmeric, cayenne pepper,  sour cream, and some wholemeal bread, and I blend the whole thing  together. Then, I pop it in a pan on the stove and heat it through.

When I'm done, I head back into the living room.

The smell of cigarette smoke tells me that Gabe's awake.

"Hey," I say, walking over. I open the door to the terrace to let in some fresh air. "You sleep okay?"

He rubs the palms of his hands over his eyes. "Yeah. Guess I needed it."

I walk over, pick up the ashtray on the coffee table, and hand it to him.

"Thanks."

I perch on the sofa next to him. "I made soup. I hope you like carrot and ginger."

"I wondered what that nice smell was."

"Surprised you could smell it over the stench of your nicotine stick."

"Surprised you can cook."

"Hey!" I shove his arm with my hand.

God, his biceps are big.

He chuckles. "Just kidding, Speedy. Where did you get the food from?"

"This crazy place called a store. You heard of one before?"

He gives me a look. "Of course I have."

"I wouldn't have thought so with how bare your cupboards were."

"I always order in. Or eat out."

"Well, you have an amazing kitchen back there that was in serious need  of use. So, I went to the store and bought you some food. You owe me a  hundred and twenty bucks by the way."

"Did you buy the whole store?"

"Just the essentials and enough to feed you for the next week."

He leans his head back against the sofa and takes a drag of his cigarette.

I'm mesmerized by the set of his lips around that cigarette and then the  way the smoke flows out of his mouth before curling up into the air.

Smoking is gross. But, somehow, he makes it seem sexy.

"Thank you." He turns his head to look at me. "I appreciate you cooking for me."

The way he's looking at me, warm brown eyes on mine, I can feel his stare in every part of my body. And it feels good.

"So"-I clear my throat, looking away-"do you want to eat now?"

"Shower," he says. "I feel gross."         

     



 

"How is that going to work?" I ask.

He stares down at the boot on his leg. "Fuck if I know. Guess I can take it off while I shower."

"Nope. Tate said under no circumstances are you to take it off. So, it's  shower with the boot on. Or would a bath be easier? I could keep the  water low, and you could hang your leg out of the bath. Rest your foot  on a stool."

"Sure, I guess that could work." He shrugs.

"Okay. I'll go run you a bath."

I head off to his bathroom and get the bath going. I find some bubble  bath that says it helps with muscle relaxation and pour it in.

I need something for him to rest his foot on while he's in the tub.

There's a stool under the vanity unit. I pull it out and set it next to the bath.

Perfect height.

The bathroom has started to steam up, and my shirt is sticking to my skin.