Roman-2(Lane Brothers, Book 5)(168)

The actor himself needed no introduction. He was one of the most recognized faces in America.

“What is he doing here?” Chris demanded.

Sasha opened her mouth then closed it again. What could she possibly say to Chris to explain why the man she’d accused of committing a sex crime was now standing in her hallway?

“I’d like to know the same thing,” Thomas said. His voice had become cold in a way that gave Sasha goose pimples.

“Let’s go to the kitchen,” she said.

“What a lovely idea,” Thomas said sarcastically. “We can have a nice cup of tea.”

The paps began banging on the door again, calling out Thomas’s name.

“We can’t stand here,” Sasha said, flinching at the pounding sound. She looked at Chris. “I need to talk to Thomas. Can you give us a moment?”

Chris frowned. “Have you lost your mind, Sash?”

“It’s not what you think,” she replied. “Things have changed.”

“In the ten minutes it took me to pack your bags?”

Thomas winced at Chris’s words.

“Yes!” Sasha cried. She was becoming exasperated. “Please, just give us space to talk.”

With a thunderous expression, Chris dumped his hold all on the top step and retreated back from the direction he’d just come.

“What a charming oaf,” Thomas said wryly. “I must admit I didn’t think high school quarterback would be your type.”

“I didn’t think Alicia would be yours,” Sasha snapped in reply.

“Touche.”

Sasha guided Thomas into the kitchen. At the very least, the kitchen dampened out the sound of the paparazzi on her doorstep. But having the stunning actor in her tiny, rundown kitchen made everything even more surreal. She’d never belonged in Thomas’s world and seeing him in hers made it clear how badly suited they were. Why did he even care what she thought of him? Why had he even bothered coming here? Yes, they’d had some incredible sex and shared some intimate moments but the actor wasn’t exactly in short supply of willing women wanting to do the same...

Thomas perched against the work surface. An image of him licking her out on the worktop in his own kitchen popped into Sasha’s mind. But rather than the view point she’d been in when he had been bringing her to the point of ecstasy, she saw it from the perspective of the leaked sex tape, from the position of the voyeur. The memory of one of the most amazing experiences of her life has been ruined by Crystal’s cruel actions.

“You moved on quickly,” Thomas said, picking up an apple from her fruit bowl and tossing it into the air carelessly.

“It’s not like that,” she argued. But guilt bit at her. They had kissed, she and Chris. Or at least, he’d kissed her. She’d hardly reciprocated and though that didn’t exactly make it better, it still wasn’t what Thomas thought. They hadn’t slept together. She hadn’t cheated on him. “I know how it looks but we didn’t do anything. Chris… he just came to help.”

“You were leaving with him.”

“Not with him. He was taking me home to my mom’s. I wasn’t running away or anything. I was just going back for a bit until this all blows over.”

Thomas scoffed. “You think this will blow over? You think the paparazzi won’t find your mother’s house and trace you there? Come on, you’re a journalist, you know how this game works. There’s no running away for either of us.”

Sasha was taken aback. When Thomas had first arrived, before he’d seen Chris, he’d wanted a reconciliation. He’d wanted Sasha to understand that he hadn’t leaked the tape for publicity. He’d even kissed her. But now he was acting like a different person. Cold. Cruel. Emotionless.

“Why did you come here, Thomas?” she said, her voice hushed.

Thomas hesitated. He put the apple back in the fruit bowl. “My intentions don’t matter anymore. What matters now is how to proceed.”

Sasha folded her arms and huffed. “Fine. Then tell me what happens next.”

“We put on a united front,” Thomas said simply. “We stick together, pretend to be a couple, do all the things the media would expect of us.”

Sasha frowned. “Such as…?”

“Go to award shows. Lounge around on private yachts. Dine with celebs.”

“Thomas, what are you asking me to do?” Sasha said.

“I’m asking you to play the part of my girlfriend.”

Sasha steadied herself by gripping the worktop. Was he crazy? “Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor settles down with… an intern?” she said, suggesting the sort of headline that would appear on all the celebrity gossip sites. “Did your publicist suggest this?”