Bad Romeo Christmas: A Starcrossed Anthology (14 page)

"Liam Quinn!" the brunette exclaims suddenly.

"Excuse me?"

"You're the girl who was on the red carpet with Liam Quinn a few months ago. The one he dated after he broke up with Angel Bell." She turns to the redhead. "You know, I'm still not over that. They were so perfect for each other. I never saw it coming."

The redhead nods. "Right? I cried when I heard. I still can't believe they're not together. The way he used to look at Angel? That was
true
love."

I clear my throat. They turn as if they've forgotten I was there.

"Oh, sorry," says the brunette. "So, was it fun? Dating a movie star? Did he break your heart? Is it painful to talk about?"

I walk back to the counter and pick up my purse. "Are we almost done here?"

The brunette nods in sympathy. "I understand. It's hard to let someone like that go, right? I mean, the man is gorgeous. Did you kiss him? Is he a good kisser?"

"Chastity, stop," the redhead says, giving me a sideway glance.

Seriously? She works in a store that reeks of sex, and her name is Chastity? Oh, the irony.

"The poor thing probably didn't even date him," the redhead whispers before looking at me with genuine concern. "I'm sorry about her. She gets carried away with romantic fantasies. You don't need to tell us anything. But just out of interest, did you win that date? Like on a call-in radio show or something?"

See? This is what I get for banning Liam from talking about our relationship in interviews. I thought I was making it easier on myself, considering my one appearance on the red carpet led to me shutting down all of my social media to avoid the vilest cyber-bullying I've ever witnessed. It blows my mind that Liam's fans claim to only want what's best for him but then threaten violence on the woman he loves.

God, people are weird.

When Liam saw how much hate I got for ‘replacing’ Angel, he agreed it was probably best to keep our relationship on the down-low, at least for a while.

However, now that these two glamour models are staring at me like I'm a bug on a windshield, I kind of wish I'd retained my Liam Quinn bragging rights.

"Nope," I say. "I didn't win the date. Liam and I are old friends. We've known each other for years."

"Ohhhhh," says the brunette, as if a light bulb went off. "That makes more sense. I mean, yeah. You and him?" She laughs, and the redhead joins her. "As if, right?"

The redhead finally finishes up with her wad of tissue paper and hands me my bags. "Well, if you ever see him again, tell him he's always welcome to shop here. We'll give him a
special
discount."

I wonder if slapping a smug store clerk would get me another entry on Liam's naughty list. If he'd witnessed this little exchange, I'm sure he'd cheer me on. I push down a flash of anger and fix them both with my fiercest glare. Within a second, their smiles drop.

"Actually," I say. "I'm going on a four-week vacation with Liam tomorrow." I hold up my left hand and waggle my massive diamond ring. "And this chunk of ice is what he gave me the day he asked me to marry him. Pretty freaking awesome, right?"

The brunette blinks for a few seconds before stuttering, "No. No way."

The redhead doesn't even bother trying to speak. She just gapes.

"Yes way, Chastity." I give her a smile. "So, Merry Christmas to me." I stride toward the door, but just before I reach it, I turn back to them. "Oh, and to answer your question, yes, he's an amazing kisser. Better still, he fucks like a god." They both gasp. "Goodnight, ladies, and thanks for your help. Enjoy that commission, won’t you?"

With that, I pull the door open and step out into the freezing weather. Unfortunately, my triumphant exit is marred when I slip on a patch of ice on the sidewalk and fall heavily onto my ass.

Dammit.

Like a true badass, I climb to my feet and proceed to strut down the sidewalk like I'm a six-foot-tall supermodel with three percent body fat, rather than a five-foot-three stage manager with a cheese addiction.

Looks like I was wrong about pretty underwear. It can make you feel powerful after all.

I'm Telling You Why

December 1st

The Apartment of Liam Quinn

New York City, New York

"Lissa, would you stop pacing?
You're giving me motion sickness, which is ironic since I'm not the one going on a trip."

I flop down on the couch next to Josh and sigh. "I'm sorry. I've never taken a trip where I haven't planned out every detail. I'm nervous. "

"You're hiding it well. I couldn't tell by the way you circled the apartment fifteen times while you rearranged your luggage, or by the twenty times you checked your passport." He pushes his glasses up his nose. "I know it's not midday yet, but maybe you should have some wine. Or a Valium." Josh taps something into his tablet and squints at the screen. "Goddamn sonuvabitch."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Sure, you always swear at technology and glare like you want to murder it. Spill, please."

He leans back and tilts the screen so I can see. It shows an entertainment website featuring a dozen photos of Angel in Australia, apparently sharing an intimate night out with her leading man. They're laughing and hugging, and in one, it looks like they're about to kiss. The headline reads,
"Hollywood's Sweetheart Finds Love Down Under with New Prince Charming."

"Josh—"

"I know you're going to tell me it's not what it seems, and they're just working together, but fuck, Lissa. I can't stand seeing her with him. I really can't." He slams the tablet onto the coffee table and strides into the kitchen.

"Why so jealous? You weren't like this when she was pretending to be in love with Liam."

"That was different." He opens the fridge and grabs a beer. "Back then, I didn't think I had a chance with her, so I had nothing to lose. Now, I have everything to lose, and it freaking terrifies me." He rips the cap off the beer and takes a long swig. "Watching her lust after that guy on set every day ... seeing her kiss him and have sex with him—"

"
Pretend
to lust.
Pretend
to have sex. She's just doing her job, honey. You know that."

"Lissa, you don't understand. This guy, Julian ..." he takes another swig of beer. "I've never wanted to beat up someone so much in my life."

"Why? Is he an asshole?"

He laughs. "Not at all. And that's the problem. He's seems like a nice guy. Funny. Friendly. Has a killer collection of comic books. He even agrees that Captain Kirk would destroy every other Starfleet captain in the Star Trek universe."

"And, that's bad because ...?"

He walks over and sits beside me. "Don't you see? He's
me.
He's the tall, handsome, hot-bodied version."

"Josh, you're six-feet tall. That’s not exactly short. And you’re handsome."

"Yeah, but I'm normal-person handsome. He's
movie star
handsome. Why would Angel stay with me when he has everything I have and more? He's a hot geek in the body of Greek god."

"That's ridiculous. Angel was with Liam for
years
and didn't lust after him once, and yet from the day she met you, she wanted to jump your bones. Have you considered that she doesn't go for the Greek god type? Maybe she likes her hot geeks ... well ... geeky."

He takes a breath and lets it out. "I suppose."

"If your main concern is that this other guy is ripped, then fight fire with fire. Hit the gym. You have a great body. It wouldn't take much to create definition."

He narrows his gaze. "Did you just suggest I work out? Because if so, who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?"

"Hey, just trying to help. Liam's private gym is right down the hall. You wouldn't even have to leave the apartment."

Before he can hit me with a smartass response, there's a knock at the door that's so loud, I jump.

Josh puts down his beer and gives me a grin. "Sounds like your ride's here."

He opens the door to reveal a large black man wearing a charcoal suit. "Good afternoon, sir. My name is JT, and I'm here to collect Miss Holt."

"Hey, JT," Josh says, offering him a high five. "Loved your last album, man. Very cool."

The man looks at Josh without a hint of a smile. "Sir, I believe you're confusing me with Mr. Justin Timberlake. It's a common mistake. However, he's a funky white boy, while I'm a professional driver. We're different people."

Josh nods. "Ahh, I see. Sorry for the confusion."

"No problem. Happens all the time." He looks past Josh to me. "Good afternoon, Miss Holt. Are you ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." JT collects my bags as I go to hug Josh. "Bye, bestie. I'll try to call from wherever I end up to let you know I've arrived safely."

He squeezes me. "Have fun. When you get back, I expect to hear all about it, with the sex stuff edited out, of course."

"Wow, expect a short story, then."

He makes a disgusted noise then steps back, and I wave as JT escorts me out of the apartment and down to a stretch limo.

When I climb inside, I gasp. The entire car is filled with hundreds of fresh roses.

I'm not usually one for girly stereotypes, but this?

Well played, Mr. Quinn. Well played.

I open the card on the seat and read the message.

Darling Liss,

I'm not sure if you got the memo, but I intend to pamper the hell out of you on this trip. Too often, you neglect yourself to take care of others, me included. Well, now it's my turn to take care of you. Please don't fight it. You deserve this.

There's champagne to your left, and caviar to your right, and when you get to the airport, there'll be a surprise waiting for you.

Be prepared to get naked.

I'll see you soon.

All my love,

Liam x

A naked surprise at the airport, huh? Oh, please let it be him. Traveling together would be so much better than being stuck on a plane by myself.

I take two big mouthfuls of champagne before leaning back into the plush leather seat.

Well, I guess this is it. Let the adventure begin.

···

A moan vibrates in my throat, and I'm ashamed I'm unable to stop it.

"God," I say, my voice hoarse with pleasure. "So good."

"You're so tight," a husky voice says from above. "Let me know if I hurt you."

I exhale and try to relax. "It hurts, but it feels good. Don't stop. Please."

"As you wish, ma'am."

The large female masseuse digs her thumbs into the base of my spine, and I moan again. I've never had a massage before. Well, not by a professional, anyway. Liam massages me all the time, but he never gets far before he feels the need to massage places he can't reach with his hands.

When we reached the airport, JT handed me another note directing me to go to the first class lounge. I fully expected to find Liam here, gorgeous and smug. Instead, I found Jane. Right now, I'm not sure who I love more. Jane and her magical hands are the bomb. She goes to town on my shoulders and neck, and I'm so blissed out I nearly lose consciousness.

Over the next two hours, she works on my entire body, even my hands and feet. When she's done, another woman enters the dimly lit treatment room to give me a manicure and pedicure, while a third lady carries out a facial. Then, just when I think I can't get any more relaxed, I'm rudely brought back to reality by a small Chinese woman who gives me a full leg wax and a
very
thorough Brazilian.

Despite the pain, I'm glad everything is neat and tidy for my time with Liam. There's nothing like being completely hairless to make a girl feel like rubbing herself all over her man.

When my flight is called, I'm so high on endorphins, I feel drunk. Maybe that's why I walk out of the lounge straight into the path of a poor, unsuspecting man striding past the doorway. I squeal as we collide, and even though he drops his backpack in an effort to keep us upright, when it becomes clear gravity intends to make us her bitch, he gallantly twists, so he takes the brunt of the impact.

He grunts as his back hits the floor, and half a second later I fall heavily onto his abdomen and somehow manage to jerk my knee into his groin.

"Fuck me!" He turns onto his side and cups his man parts. "Oh, fuuuuck meeeee."

"I'm sorry!" I scramble off him and pat his shoulder in sympathy. "I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry."

He pushes out a tight breath between his teeth. "S'okay. I'm fine." He grunts again and rolls to the other side. "I didn't want to have children anyway. I hear they're overrated. Messy. Loud. Very expensive."

He curls up into a sitting position, and once he catches his breath, he holds out his hand. "I'm Scott, by the way. And I assume you're a hurricane in human form."

I shake his hand and laugh. "That's me. But you can call me Elissa."

"Painful to meet you, Elissa."

He squeezes my hand, and I'm little uncomfortable with how openly he's flirting. Doesn't he know I'm with the world's most amazing man and therefore have no need to flirt ever again?

Oblivious to my indifference, he keeps a hold of my hand as he stands and helps me up. After I get my purse and he grabs his backpack, we turn back to each other.

"So, where are you jetting off to, Hurricane Elissa? Some unsuspecting island nation that won't recover for months?"

"Uh, good question. I'm not exactly sure. I'm flying to Brazil, but after that, I have no clue. My travel plans are a better guarded secret than Area 51."

"So, either you really trust your travel agent, or someone made the travel arrangements for you."

"That second thing. My fiancée, actually."

He grips his chest. "Oh. Ouch. And here I was thinking I had a really cool story to tell our future children about how I met their mother."

I give him a sympathetic smile. "Sorry."

"It's okay," he says with a shrug. "I'm used to all the cool women who knock me over in airport being unavailable. Story of my life." He drops his head and smiles. "I'm also headed to Brazil. I'd say I'll see you on the plane, but ..." he points to the first class lounge, "seems like your fiancée has you with the cool kids at the front of the bus. I'll be slumming it at the back." He gives me a wry smile. "Anyway, I'd better go. I have some cheap alcohol to stock up on before we leave. Maybe I'll see you on the other side."