Breaking Hollywood(15)

"Yep."

I pour out two glasses of wine and put one in front of Gabe while he's busy filling up a tortilla with the jerk prawns.

I grab a tortilla and put some pork, salad, and banana salsa in it. Then, I wrap it up and take a bite.

Gabe takes a bite of the taco. His eyes close on a moan.

And my girlie bits come to life in response. My body lights up. And my nipples get embarrassingly hard.

Please don't show through my clothes.

His eyes open, and he takes another bite. The taco is almost gone; his bites are that big.

"Good?" I ask him.

"So fucking good," he groans around a mouthful. He chews and swallows it  down. Then, he puts the last of the taco in his mouth. "Fuck, Speedy.  My stomach thanks you." He grabs another tortilla and starts loading  that up.

My cheeks heat at the compliment. "It's no biggie."

"Maybe not to you since you come from a family of chefs. But, to a guy  who lives on takeout, this is amazing. What kind of restaurant do your  parents have?" he asks me.

"New American cuisine. It's a bar and restaurant."

"Where is it?"

"It's in New York."

"I'll have to go next time I'm there. What's it called?"

"Simms. You know, our surname. Nothing original. Just let me know when  you're going to be there, and I'll make sure you get the best table."

He takes a drink of his wine and then starts in on his taco. "Why didn't you become a chef?"

I put my food down on my plate. "Because I know firsthand how demanding  the job is. I saw the hours my parents put into the restaurant-and still  do-and, as much as I love cooking, I knew it wasn't for me. I wasn't  sure what I wanted to do, to be honest, and after college, I just fell  into working in wardrobe. I've always loved clothes, and it's a fun job,  so it works for me."

"And your brother? You said he's a lawyer, right?"

"Yeah, a corporate lawyer. It takes him all over the world."

"Where is he at the moment?"

"Tokyo."

"Great city."

"You've been there?"

"A couple of times, promoting movies."

"Ah, right. I'd love to go. The farthest I've ever been is Hawaii on a  family holiday when I was a kid." I pick my glass up and take a sip.  "So, I know what your brother does. But what do your parents do?"

He doesn't answer, so I glance over at him.

He's frozen still.

"Gabe?"

His eyes flicker back to life. "My parents are gone." He picks his wine up and drains the glass.

"Gone?"

"Dead."

He picks the bottle up and refills his glass to the top.

"God. I'm sorry, Gabe. I didn't know."

"It's fine." He starts drinking again. His glass is half-empty. Then, it's gone.         

     



 

I pick my own wine up and drink it. I feel terrible. I've made him  uncomfortable, bringing up his parents. And we were having such a nice  time.

He pours more wine into his glass, but the bottle empties, only partially filling it.

He starts to move.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"To get another bottle."

"I'll go." I move Gucci's head off my leg, and I'm on my feet, heading for the kitchen.

I get another bottle of the same wine and open it up before taking it  back through with me. I pour some more into his glass and then refill my  own. I put the bottle on the table before sitting back down.

The tension in the air is awful. It's like a rain cloud on a perfectly nice evening.

"Gabe, I'm sorry. I-"

"Forget it. You didn't know."

I tuck my hair behind my ear. Then, I take a bite of my food. We eat in  silence, the sound of the TV giving background noise, but the quiet  between us is killing me.

"So … I was thinking-"

"Did it hurt?"

And he's back.

I almost laugh with relief. "Jackass."

"Wench."

I look over at him, and the corners of his lips are curled up.

"Anyway," I continue on, "I feel like I'm not really earning the money  that you're paying me for taking care of you. All I do is feed you and  help you out of the bath."

"And having you do that is worth every penny."

"Perv. And, now that I'm your employee, you do realize, with comments  like that, I can sue you for sexual harassment." I lick some sauce off  my finger. I don't miss the way his eyes follow the movement or the way  they flare.

And I can't deny that I like having that effect on him.

"I was talking about you feeding me, Speedy. Not getting me out of the bath. But good to know where your mind is." He smirks.

My cheeks flame. I quickly pick up my wine and take a big drink to cover it.

"So, I was just wondering if there's anything else I can do around here to help."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. I could clean."

"I have cleaners who come in twice a week."

"What about laundry?"

"They do that as well."

"Oh."

"You could help me run lines if you want? Donna, my PA, usually does it with me, but she's on vacation at the moment."

"That sounds awesome." I light up at the thought. "I don't know how good  I'll be. I mean, I did drama in high school and was in some plays, and I  was okay, but I haven't done anything since then-"

"Speedy." He holds up a hand, cutting me off. "As long as you can read, you're good."

"I can read," I tell him. "So, when will we start?"

"How's tomorrow sound?"

"Perfect. What's the movie about?"

"It's an espionage thriller."

"Wow. Sounds really good."

"You got that from espionage thriller? Fuck, I must be a better actor than I thought."

"You're such a dick." I laugh, shaking my head.

He cups his hand around his ear. "I have a huge dick? Why, thank you,  Speedy. I didn't know you knew. Have you been sneaking peeks when  getting me out of the bath?"

"No. Because I can keep control of my eyes, unlike you," I say indignantly, pointing in the direction of the girls.

His eyes meet mine. "So, what you're saying is, if you couldn't keep control of your eyes, you'd sneak a look at my cock?"

"No!"

"Because you don't have to sneak a look. Just say the word, and I'll show you my monster cock anytime."

"You have a monster cock? That sounds terrifying!" I snort. It must be  the wine, loosening me up a bit. I always get giddy from vino.

"Monstrous in size but absolutely fucking glorious to look at." He winks. "And a total beast in bed."

I burst out laughing. "You crack me up!"

Yep, I must be tipsy. Not that I've had that much to drink. God, I'm such a cheap date.

"Right back at ya, babe." He chuckles.

Babe.

He called me babe.

I really need to stop with the wine.

We finish dinner, and Gabe polishes off the second bottle of wine.

I'm just stacking the plates on the tray when Gabe starts to get up.

"You okay?" I ask him, as he seems to be struggling a bit.

"Yeah. I've just gone a bit stiff."

I go over to him and offer him my hand. He takes it, and I try to ignore the fireworks that go off in my stomach.

He puts his other hand on the sofa and pushes up as I pull.         

     



 

He comes upright, but because he's on one leg-and also probably because  of the amount of alcohol he's consumed and the fact that I'm not feeling  the steadiest after the wine-he tips forward, onto me, grabbing hold of  my waist. And I grab his biceps, using every ounce of strength to stop  us both from going down.

"Shit, sorry," he says.

"It's fine." I smile up at him.

Then, I'm acutely aware of how close we actually are. My breasts are just brushing his chest.

And we're still touching.

My hands on his arms.

His hands on my waist.

I feel his fingers flex against me.

I suddenly feel hotter. My breaths start to come in shorter.

I see his eyes darken.

Then, they drop to my mouth.

I lick my lips.

He's going to kiss me. Holy shit, he's going to kiss me …

Oh.

No, he's not.

He lets me go and is grabbing his crutches, tucking them under his arms.

"Thanks for the save," he says. Then, he's moving, hobbling out of the living room.

Okay then. Guess I read that moment wrong.

For the best really.

I sigh.

Gucci comes up alongside me and rubs her head against my leg.

I reach down and pick up the tray with the plates. "Come on, baby girl, let's go do the dishes."





Gabe


I lied to Speedy before.

I told her that my parents were dead.

They're not.

It's a lie I've told with ease hundreds of times before. But, for some reason, it's bugging me that I lied to her.

And it shouldn't.

I mean, it's not exactly like I can tell her the truth. About anything from my past.

So then, why am I lying in bed an hour later, wide awake? And, trust me,  I'm not the type of guy who lies in bed, analyzing shit. I'm the type  of guy who falls asleep as soon as his head hits the fucking pillow.

And it doesn't help, knowing that she's down the hall, all sexy as shit,  quite possibly naked-okay, that's wishful thinking on my part. But  she's here, staying under my roof, and it isn't making things any easier  on the sleeping front.