Written in the Stars Series Collection Page 4

  Jack lifted my chin with his hand, and his thumb brushed my lips. I hadn’t noticed I’d hidden my face in embarrassment.

  “You’re cute when you blush.”

  I smiled and blushed again. Jack chuckled and leaned forward to kiss me.

  Taking his face in my hands, I kissed him passionately. But it wasn’t enough. We both needed more.

  Jack stopped our kiss, and then took the food tray and set it on the desk. After he swallowed a big gulp of wine, I took his glass from him and took a sip before he set it down.

  Then he kissed me, and our bodies crashed backward onto the bed. Just being with him and not touching him was torture. I had to have him closer right now. Talking could wait. I wanted to know everything about him. I wanted to know all his intimate secrets, his likes and his dislikes, his favourite movie and what kind of music he liked. But all that could wait. There was time for that later.

  As Jack explored every inch of me, and our clothes gave way to skin, we explored each other more intimately. I could feel that what we had was much more than just sexual attraction. I knew on a deeper level that Jack Dean had imprinted himself on my soul.

  9

  Sunlight burned my eyelids, and I groaned as I rolled over. My hand landed on slightly warm sheets. I opened one eye and looked around. It was light outside the window, and I was lying in bed naked and alone. I looked around the room and saw the room service tray with the half-finished pad thai and half full wine glasses sitting on the desk. Two glasses. There were also two forks in the bowl. It was then I remembered I wasn’t alone. It was then I remembered Jack, our kisses, and passionate lovemaking, our dancing in the dark room and the stolen glances in the elevator. The flash of light across his face and his sexy dimples when he smiled. There was a noise in the adjoining bathroom, and the shower turned on.

  Jack.

  Luckily, my brain wasn’t functioning enough to go there yet. I needed coffee.

  “Ugh. Why did I drink so much last night?” I said as I rolled out of bed and flopped onto the floor in search of my clothes. I found Jack’s shoe next to my bra, his shirt next to my shoe—my panties next to his underwear. Oh, my God! I quickly scrambled to collect my clothes and get dressed. I’d shared room service with Jack Dean last night. I’d accompanied Jack Dean back to his room last night. I’d had sex with Jack Dean the previous night! Oh, my God!

  My phone buzzed to life on the desk. I ran to grab it and saw about half a dozen missed calls and text messages. One text was from my sister, but all the rest were from Susan and Susan’s secretary.

  Shit!

  I checked the time. It was after nine on a Thursday. Double shit! I was meant to be at work over half an hour ago. I had finished dressing and was putting on my make-up in the mirror at the desk when the door to the bathroom opened and steam filtered into the room.

  I looked up and saw Jack standing in the doorway in nothing but a towel slung low around his hips. I dropped my lipstick.

  “You’re not leaving, are you?” There was a pause as Jack took me in.

  “I…” I bent down to pick up my lipstick and finished reapplying it. “I’m sorry. I’m late for work.”

  Jack didn’t talk. His expression didn’t give away his thoughts, either. Instead, he walked toward me and stood behind me. He wrapped his arms around my middle, placing a kiss on my neck, and whispered in my ear, “Your boss will understand if you tell her why you were late.”

  I spun around to face him. “I can’t tell her about this. About you. About us.”

  “Why not? She wanted a story, right? This will be perfect. Besides, it’ll be the perfect chance for me to tell my story.”

  I slipped from his arms, finished collecting the rest of my things, and headed toward the door. “No. I can’t.”

  “Chloe, wait!”

  I reached for the knob and pulled the door open. I turned as he said my name and looked at him. “Am I going to see you again?”

  “No. I think it’s a good idea we keep this thing between us. Whatever this was.” I put my palm against his chest to feel his heart. It was racing. I looked at my hand laying there on his chest and wondered if I had just broken his heart.

  “Chloe, please don’t leave. Not like this. I like you, and I had a good time last night. Contrary to what you must think, it wasn’t a one night stand for me.”

  I met his gaze. “That’s not what I think. I just don’t know where we stand.”

  “Then why don’t you give us a chance to find out? I want to keep seeing you if that’s okay?”

  I touched his face and stroked the dimple I loved so much.

  “I want to, so much. But my job… and yours… we’re meant to be enemies. I’m meant to write about you, and now I don’t think I can do it.”

  He leaned forward and kissed me hard on my lips. I let go of the door, and he backed me into it so we stood in the open doorway. I entwined my arms behind his head and knotted my fingers in his longish hair. Jack pulled back just enough so he could speak.

  “I think you should write the story. Set the record straight. After all, shouldn’t all writers write what they know? Just write from the heart.”

  “No. I can’t do that to you.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Write the story, Chloe.”

  “Why do you want me to write the story so bad? I thought, someone like you, who seems like a private person, would want to keep their private life private. You’ve surprised me, Jack Dean.”

  “I want you to write the story because I’m sick of everything. I’m sick of the truth being stretched and the rumours. I just want the world to know the truth. And because it’ll show Alexa that I play by my own rules.”

  “Okay. Fine. I’ll write the story. But I apologise in advance if your life gets crazy, and you get hounded by paparazzi more than you do now.”

  “If that happens, I’ll only have myself to blame. It’ll be my fault for telling you to do it.”

  “Okay.” I smiled and kissed him before grabbing his phone from his hand.

  “What are you doing?” He laughed.

  “Giving you a way to see me again.” I winked and kissed him once more before walking out the door.

  10

  As soon as I left Jack’s room, I realised I had no idea where I was. I ran to the elevator bank and checked the floor. We were on seven. But I was in a different hotel than the one where I was staying. So I took the elevator to the lobby, walked around the corner to my hotel, while doing the walk of shame in last night’s clothes, and headed to my room to collect my things.

  When I unlocked my hotel door, my phone began to ring. I looked down at the screen. Shit! It was Susan. I pushed open the door quickly, set my purse and keycard on the bed, and then began gathering my things together so I could leave and head to work. I put the phone on speaker and set it on the bed while I packed.

  “Hey, Susan. How are you?” Oh, God, Chloe. Why did you say that? Now it’ll make you sound guilty. She’ll know something is up now.

  “Chloe, I was getting worried. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m so sorry. I’m on my way now. Things got crazy last night, and I lost track of time. I just wanna let you know I have a story.”

  “Oh, that’s good to hear. No rush. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t have to come to identify your body in the morgue or bail you out of jail.”

  I laughed nervously. “No, no. Nothing like that. I’m fine.”

  “Good, good. I’ll see you soon then. I can’t wait to hear about that story.” Then she hung up, and I was left staring confused at the black phone screen. Susan sounded terribly chipper this morning. She definitely knew something. It was like she could detect my lies through the phone. She was a human lie detector.

  I set my phone on the bed next to my purse and suitcase and decided I needed a shower. Susan had said not to rush. I smiled and made my way to the bathroom. As I started the shower, I thought of Jack and his fingers against my skin as he removed my clothes from my b
ody. Flashes of his lips against my neck, against my own lips, of his hands in places I never imagined hands could be. That funny tingly feeling returned, I slumped against the wall outside the bathroom and moaned. I wanted Jack. No, I needed him.

  It was then I made a decision. Well, my heart did. My heart didn’t wait for my brain to tell it off. I ran from my room to the elevators, but the elevators were taking too damn long. So I ran down the stairs. I ran all the way down to the lobby, thirteen floors, around the corner to Jack’s hotel, and rode the elevator back up seven stories. By the time I reached Jack’s floor, my head was spinning, and I was out of breath, but I had to make it. I had to see him again. If just for one more second. When I reached his corridor, I ran full on to his door and knocked so loud it could have woken the dead. But there came no answer.

  “Jack!” I knocked and bashed on the door over and over, but no one came. Had he gone?

  “Jack?” my voice cracked, and I slumped against the door.

  I was too late. He’d left, and the only hope I had was that he would call me. If what he said was true, he would.

  But hope was all I had.

  So I picked up the broken pieces of my heart and headed back to my hotel. I skipped the shower, gathered my belongings, and headed to work—not that I would be of much use. I had to pull myself together for Susan’s sake. I couldn’t let her see how much one night had affected me.

  11

  When I reached my desk, I dumped my bags on the floor in front of my chair and headed to the kitchen. I needed coffee—a super huge cup of coffee. When I’d made myself probably the world’s largest most robust coffee, I headed back to my desk. And that’s where Susan found me. And imagine my mortification when I heard the first words out of her mouth.

  “Are you wearing last night’s dress?” she was standing behind me, so I spun around on my chair and looked up at her. As always, Susan was dressed in a designer pantsuit. She looked clean and pressed and her hair perfectly styled. Me? I looked like a prostitute. Well, I hadn’t actually seen my reflection since this morning when I put on my make-up in Jack’s mirror. That’s just what I assumed I looked like. I felt so much worse, though.

  Worse yet, I wasn’t sure if Jack had whispered empty promises to me to lure me in. He seemed like a decent guy, but wasn’t that what all the players wanted you to think? I didn’t want to consider Jack as just another douchebag playboy who treated girls like a plaything. A disposable possession.

  “Chloe? Are you okay?”

  “Oh, um… yes. I’m fine.” Crap. I realised I’d not spoken for a few minutes. I had no idea how much time had actually passed. My thoughts were all in one place, with one person.

  Susan placed her hand on her hip and leaned against my cubicle with her other hand.

  “So, tell me about this story. What happened last night? Did you speak with Jack Dean?”

  Did I speak with Jack Dean? We did much more than talk.

  “Yeah. I spoke with him. I started working on the story last night after the party.”

  “Good. I can’t wait to hear what you have. In the meantime, I have a new assignment for you. I received an anonymous text this morning. In it was a photo. Log in. I’ve sent it to you.”

  “Okay.” I promptly set down my coffee cup and woke up my desktop computer. I logged into my email account and clicked on the email from Susan. I scrolled down to the bottom, found the attachment, and clicked on it. When the photo loaded and opened, my heart stopped. I felt that the entire world did too. Luckily, I wasn’t drinking my coffee because it would have ended up all over the computer screen.

  “Do you recognise the people in this photo?”

  I couldn’t focus. My heart was pounding so hard blood rushed through my ears, drowning out every sound around me. All I could see was the photo of Jack and me. I zoomed in.

  No! It couldn’t be. But there it was. My bare bum cheeks revealed to the entire world. It must have been when Jack placed his hand on my thigh. My skirt was a bit short. This was bad. This was very, very bad. I now had more sympathy for Jack and any celebrity. How did they deal with this?

  There was no mistaking who the picture depicted. To me, anyway. I knew because I was there. I glanced around and expected everyone to be whispering and gossiping about the hottest Hollywood heartthrob and me. I expected Susan to be staring at me, disapproving hands on hips, and to give me a motherly talk. But none of that happened. My colleagues weren’t the least bit phased about me. They were carrying out their work like I didn’t exist. And Susan was no longer standing behind me. I took one more look around and then turned back to the screen. It was possible no one knew it was me. But I did. And, so did Susan.

  The point was, there was a photo out there in the world of me and Jack standing in a passionate embrace inside the elevators and my arse on display. I knew those dental floss undies would haunt me! Anybody who looked at the picture knew what was going to happen. A couple doing PDAs inside an elevator was clearly heading up to a hotel room to do… things.

  The question was, how long until the world discovered who the mysterious woman in the photograph was?

  12

  I leapt from my chair and grabbed my suitcase. Yanking it open, I rifled through it and pulled out a pair of jeans and a vintage floral blouse. I then ran to the nearest bathroom to change. I had to get rid of the evidence. Even though the photograph was dark, if someone studied the picture long enough, they would recognise the dress, the very dress I had on now. I had to get out of it as soon as possible.

  “Chloe? Where are you going?” asked Susan as I ran past her office.

  “Just going to change! I didn’t have time to shower this morning. I don’t feel so fresh, and I probably smell. Be back soon!”

  “Oh, okay. Hurry back. I need that story!”

  Yeah. No. No one needed my story. I headed down to the basement where the gym and showers were located.

  A short time later, after I was freshly showered and changed and the evidence hidden, I returned to my desk like nothing had happened. As if I hadn’t just walked into work in last night’s dress and discovered said dress was involved in a scandalous photo. Nope. There was nothing to see here! I even added pep to my step and sashayed to my desk like I was on top of the world. Then, as soon as I made it to my chair, I quickly stashed the scandalous dress in my suitcase, opened a new document on my computer, and pulled out my phone and headphones. I popped in my earbuds and pressed play on the recorder app.

  First, white noise and people chattering filled my ears. Then the screams of fans. Then my voice as I asked Jack a question. I hated my recorded voice. I sounded like a little girl on tape. I inwardly cringed but was soon saved by the unmistakable deep baritone of Jack’s voice. My stomach flipped as I listened to his voice, and I was instantly taken back to our conversation at the after party.

  “Forgive me if my questions were lame. I’ve never really done this before.”

  “It’s okay.” Jack smiled. “I’ve heard worse. Your questions were cute.” I remember blushing and hiding my face in my hair. Then I remember Jack’s hand on my face as he made me look at him. I remember looking into his eyes. And even though the room was dark, I remember loving the way his eyes sparkled with mischief and secrets.

  But there was also a bit of sadness there behind his eyes. It made me want to hug him and never let him go. It made me want to know everything about him, his secrets, his dreams, his fears. I wished he would reveal it all to me. There was something about him that made me want to spill my heart in return.

  I opened my eyes when the tape ended, and I was pulled back into reality. I was tempted to replay the tape again, repeatedly so I could live the night over. It was a dream come true. And if it weren’t for the photograph, it would have been nothing but a dream. I clicked into my email inbox and reopened the photo in question. Whoever had taken the picture was clever. I don’t know if it was intentional or not, but the way the light hit, it was impossible to tell it was me in the p
hotograph. The light only spilled across the bottom half of Jack’s face. He was smiling, and his white teeth glimmered in the minimal light. His eyes were shadowed, but you could just see the glimmer of his hazel eyes. God, he was gorgeous. I found myself subconsciously reaching out to stroke him on the computer screen.

  “So, who do you think the woman is?”

  “Huh? What?” I minimised the window and spun around so fast on my chair that I almost sent my colleague Rebecca flying. “Oh, sorry, Bec.” I gave her probably the biggest fake smile ever. I probably looked constipated.

  “There’s no record of Jack Dean bringing a plus one to the after party. So, whoever this girl is, he met her there.” Rebecca was an intern at the website and a few years younger than I was. She sighed. “Lucky bitch. I would have loved to be a fly on the wall in that hotel room. Make sure you write something juicy, okay?” She patted me on the shoulder and walked off texting on her phone. She was probably on the second round of coffee runs. That was pretty much all interns did here for the first year—it was all I’d done for the first six months—if they survived long enough in this dog-eat-dog world.

  I spun back around slowly, slightly flabbergasted and embarrassed that I’d been sprung stroking Jack with my eyes through the computer screen. I stared at the blinking cursor on the blank document and thought about how I was going to write about a night I would rather remain a secret.

  13

  Even though I had a deadline of three days to write the story about the mysterious girl at the after party, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell the world that I was the girl in Jack’s arms. I was the girl he took to his room and made love to—even though Jack had practically given me permission to tell it. I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t out us. The ramifications would be enormous. Both Jack and I would be hounded to the ends of the earth. If I revealed myself as the woman in the photo, I would be kissing my life goodbye.