Jessie howls like she’s been hit. The boys look at each other for a split second, then break into a sprint. They tear off away from the lookout like someone lit their asses on fire, back the way they came. They don’t slow down, and they don’t see us.
Jessie’s doubled over, slapping her thigh. Wyatt laughs so hard no sound comes out. I’m shaking my head and trying like hell to keep from laughing. It doesn’t work. That was too fucking funny. With the three of us cracking up, Wes doesn’t stand a chance. He lets go of his stoic leader of the pack routine and joins in.
“You’re fucking crazy, Calamity,” Wyatt says to Jessie. “Those boys think they hit a person.”
“Can’t grow up with you three and be sane,” she shoots back. He sneaks her some beer when Wes isn’t looking.
Later on, when I’m getting out of Wes’s truck in front of my place, Wyatt rolls down the window and yells, “I found the home address of the guy who wrote that article about you and Anna. In case you want to drive out there and throw a bag of flaming dog shit in his face.”
There are plenty of things I’d like to do to that guy, but what’s the point? It’d be a lot of time and energy for not much benefit. I shake my head at his offer and go inside. The second I’m home, my mind drifts back to the place where it’s been for two weeks, like a record stuck on repeat.
I open my phone and sift through pictures of her, serving myself a heaping plate of misery. Why the fuck not? There’s one in particular I get stuck on. Her lips are poised to kiss my cheek, her eyes shut tight. My grin is as goofy as they come, but so damn happy.
When I go to bed, I leave my phone on the kitchen counter on purpose. If I leave it out there, I won’t be tempted to keep torturing myself with pictures.
I lay down and do nothing but think of Tenley. She’s beautiful and sweet and so damn funny, she’s everything I want and everything I’m afraid to have.
I throw off my covers and go get my phone. Who was I kidding?
33
Tenley
“That’s a wrap.”I wink at Calvin and offer my hand.
He takes it, pulling me in for a hug. We’re in the kitchen at the rental house. Filming ended yesterday, and it’s time for me to go back to LA. Calvin will leave later today, but I packed last night. There’s nothing left for me in Sierra Grande, but I try not to think too much about that. If I can avert my gaze from my broken heart for just long enough, I’ll make it out of this town. If I examine my feelings too closely, I’ll wind up back at the HCC, in the arms of a man I’m positive loves me but refuses to acknowledge it.
I step back from Calvin and look at him pleadingly. “Would you mind grabbing my heaviest suitcase from my room?”
Calvin flexes his biceps and lopes off. I take two apples from the fridge and turn back just in time to see my phone flash with a text. I grab it off the table and realize too late it’s not mine. The message has my name though, so I read it. I don’t understand what it means.I need more on Tenley,from a number that hasn’t been given a name in Calvin’s contacts.
“Did you pack bricks?” Calvin jokes, bumping into the wall as he hauls in my suitcase. He stops short when he sees me with his phone.
“Why does someone need more on me? More of what?”
Calvin palms the air like he’s innocent. Ironically, this is what everyone who’s guilty of something does.
“Calvin.” I speak his name like a threat.
“It’s just publicity, I swear.”
I squint, trying to understand, but I don’t. “Keep going.”
“I have skin in the game, too. It’s not just your parents who need this movie to be successful.” He has a pleading look on his face. I don’t like it.
“Nobody wants a flop, Calvin, but I still don’t understand.”
“Your dad came to me six months ago and asked me for a loan. He told me about the gambling and said he had an inside tip on a horse and he was going to win big. I gave him what he needed, but I was interested too. He introduced me to the guys, and I—”
“No.” I shake my head, not willing to believe that Calvin is in the same hot water as my dad.
“Your dad was wrong. And he was smart enough to be done after that.” His voice takes on a pleading edge. “But not me. And you know we get paid more if this movie does well, Tenley.”
“What did you do?” I think I already know, the events arranging themselves in my mind, but I want him to say it.
“I sent pictures of you and Warner to the gossip rags. I told them Warner’s name. I’d heard some talk when I was coming out of a store, two old ladies sitting on a bench talking loudly like they’d forgotten their hearing aids. I told my contact at Celebrity Dirt. It went from there.”
He doesn’t look at me. It’s the smartest decision of his life. If he attempted eye contact with me now, I’d put a big bruise on that pretty, deceptive face. I can’t think of what to do, or say, so I choose nothing.
