Filthy Beast(47)
I look up at him and his expression is serious. I don’t know what’s going on, but I suddenly realize that this isn’t a booty call. He’s not here just to sleep with me.
Maybe this is his way of throwing rocks at my window again.
“I talked to Holly,” he says finally. “Well, she did most of the talking.”
“She talked to me, too,” I admit to him.
He raises an eyebrow. “What did she say?”
“Threatened me,” I say. “Basically told me she’d get me fired if I don’t back off you.”
He groans and shakes his head. “That crazy fucking bitch.”
“What’s her deal, Jackson?” I ask him. “I don’t understand this at all. Does she love you or something?”
“No,” he says. “She thinks that if we stay attached as a couple that she’ll have an easier time getting a job.”
“She’s doing this for her career?” I can’t help but laugh. “That almost makes it worse.”
“Either way, she’s serious. I came here to tell you that she threatened to go to the paparazzi with a story about me abusing her and raping her.”
My eyes go a little wide. “She what?”
“Yeah,” he says. “She’ll tell the world I’m an abusive rapist or some shit if I don’t stay with her until she gets another job.”
“Holy shit,” I whisper. “Jackson, that’s insane. She’s blackmailing you.”
“Yeah,” he grunts. “And I don’t know what the fuck to do about it.” He stops and faces me, and I turn to face him.
“Whatever I can do to help,” I say softly.
He reaches out and takes my hand, pulling me against him. He kisses me hard, surprising me for a second, but quickly I fall into his kiss. I let myself enjoy it, even if it’s dangerous and stupid to push this thing.
Slowly he breaks it off. “I just need you to know… Holly means nothing to me.”
“And why do I need to know that?” I ask him.
“I want you to trust me again.”
I look away, down at the ground. “That’s going to take some time,” I say.
“I know.” He tips my chin up and makes me look him in the eye. “But I’m trying. I don’t want anything to do with Holly, but I don’t know how to get out of it.”
I look into his eyes, and I believe him. I don’t know what it is about his expression but it’s the most sincere thing I’ve ever seen. I stand up on my toes and kiss him softly on the mouth, not sure what’s coming over me, and he kisses me back.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll let you try.”
“Got any ideas about how I can get out of this with Holly, or am I just fucked?”
I shake my head. “No clue. But I know someone who might.”
He cocks his head. “Who?”
“She’s a little weird and loves the Power Rangers apparently, but Laney’s the smartest person I know. If anyone can help, I bet it’s her.”
“You think we can trust her?” he asks me. “This story… if it leaks… it’ll be huge. And Holly will go off.”
“We can trust her,” I say. “I trust Laney with everything.”
“Okay,” he says. “Let’s go ask her.”
We head back to the apartment, holding hands, and I don’t know what that means. But it makes my heart beat fast and it feels good, really good, to have his hand in mine. I’m trying not to overanalyze this moment. I’m trying to enjoy it.
We get back to the apartment, and Laney is right where we left her. Once inside, we sit down and I launch into the story. I tell her the whole thing, about how we’re sleeping together, about his fake relationship with Holly, everything. Jackson adds in any details I don’t know, and when we’re finished, Laney is frowning.
“What do you think?” he asks her.
“Sounds like a fucking crazy story,” she says. “Can I write a script about it?”
He laughs a little. “You can option my story if you come up with a good plan.”
Her eyes light up, and I know she’s taking him seriously. “It’s a deal,” she says.
“Okay then.” He grins at her and they shake hands.
“Give me a few hours,” Laney says. “I think I can come up with a solution to your problem.”
“You sure?” I ask her.
“Positive. Just leave me to my work.” She grabs her laptop and a pair of headphones. “Don’t bother me until the morning.”
“Okay,” I say, but Laney already has the headphones on. She’s tapping away as Jackson and I get up. I’m not sure what to do, so I take him back through the house and into my room.