“She needed to use the bathroom,” he informs me, and then frowns. “But that was ten minutes ago.”

“Aw, shit. Maybe she’s passed out.”

I take the steps two at a time and check the guest rooms. Two of them are occupied, but not by Vaughn. I ignore the couples rolling around on the guest beds and duck back into the hall.

As I make my way toward my bedroom, I pass by Luke. He’s making out with a brunette in a blue tank top and gold sandals—

I back up two steps. No. I’m totally hallucinating, right? Because there’s no way he’s making out with…

“Vaughn?” I demand.

28

HIM

StarStalkerz.com

Spotted: Venice Beach. Boy bander Nicky Novak and longtime GF Elizabeth Simms hold hands during a romantic stroll on the boardwalk. Awwwwww!

Spotted: LA. Oakley Ford and entourage leave The Head for a private after-party. And we all know what happens at Oakley Ford after-parties…

As my heart beats triple time against my rib cage, I watch the girl’s dark head pull away from Luke and peer around his arm.

“Oak?” Vaughn slurs.

The sight of her swollen lips makes me want to slam my fist into the wall. Or into Luke’s jaw. Or maybe into my own jaw, for being such a stupid, pathetic tool who actually thought that…that what? That she was into me? That she would ever see me as something more than a job?

I nearly choke on the pain. “What the hell is going on?”

Luke grins drunkenly at me. “Dude, I was just coming up to piss and your girl threw herself at me.”

Vaughn’s unfocused eyes flick from me to Luke and then back at me. Something registers, although I have no clue what. Then her hand flies to her face and she whirls around, fumbling with the bathroom door. She lunges inside.

Luke and I stare at each other as the sounds of retching fill the air.

He waves a hand toward the bathroom. “She’s all yours, man.”

My anger turns to rage. Pure, white-hot rage as I grab him by the collar and shove him up against the wall.

“That’s my girlfriend!” I growl at him. “You were kissing my goddamn girlfriend!”

Panic fills his eyes, eclipsing the haze of inebriation. “I…I…”

“You what?” I snap, but then he makes a choked noise and I realize he can’t answer because my forearm is digging into his windpipe. I loosen my grip, just barely.

“I thought…”

“You thought what?”

“Thought it was a media thing,” he mumbles. “Like it was with April.”

“Well, it’s not,” I snap.

“C’mon, Oak, be real with me. No way are you into some normal. You go for supermodels, tall blondes with big tits and—” He moans when my arm presses into his throat again.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me.” I’m so pissed off I’m starting to feel dizzy, but I let the anger continue to flow. I have to, otherwise the pain will come back. And the jealousy. I refuse to think about the way her lips had been fused to his. I refuse to.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he wheezes. “She told me she felt sad and needed some cheering up. I thought—”

Every word disgusts me even more. So he thought he’d take advantage of some girl who was too drunk and too distraught to know what she was doing? Luke’s always been an asshole, but I didn’t realize he was this bad. “You thought wrong.”

“I didn’t know it was like that. But now I know and it won’t happen again, okay?”

“Damn straight it won’t! You’re not gonna get within five feet of her ever again, you hear me? If you so much as look at her, I’m gonna beat you so hard that—”

“Oak,” a stern voice booms, and then a pair of beefy arms yanks me away from Luke.

My former friend staggers to the side, clutching his throat with one hand. He looks at me as if I’ve gone insane. Maybe I have. I can’t stop thinking about how this creep’s mouth was on Vaughn’s mouth. His hands on her waist. His body pressed up against her.

“You all right, brother?” Tyrese asks in a low voice.

I manage a nod. “Get him out of my house,” I mutter.

He doesn’t need to be asked twice. Luke protests as my bodyguard drags him toward the staircase. He shouts out that he didn’t know it was real, he’s sorry, he’ll make it up to me, but I don’t even spare him a glance.

I’m done with him. First thing tomorrow I’m calling Jim and requesting a different bassist at the studio. I don’t give a crap how he makes it happen, but it is absolutely going to happen.

Vaughn’s retching has stopped, I realize. I knock softly on the door, but a part of me almost doesn’t want her to answer. Doesn’t want her to open it.

“Oak.” Her weak voice sounds from behind the door, which swings open to reveal her ashen face and bloodshot eyes. “I don’t feel so good.”

The pained, embarrassed note softens something inside me. She’s so drunk that she’s swaying on her feet, and I can’t help but reach out to steady her. Damn it. I want to rage at her for kissing Luke. I want to ask her what the hell she was thinking. But it’s obvious she’s in no shape to talk.

“Everything is spinning,” she whispers.

My heart stutters. “I know,” I say gruffly. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

She takes a step forward and almost falls over.

Sighing, I lift her into my arms and carry her to my bedroom. She buries her face in the crook of my neck and lets out a little whimper. “Head hurts, Oak.”

“I know, baby. It’s okay. I’ll get you something for the pain.”

I gently deposit her on the bed, then pop into the master bath to grab some ibuprofen and a glass of water. I force her to swallow two pills and then chug the whole glass. She does it without protest then crawls up the bed and hugs one of my pillows.

“Spinning,” she moans.

“Just close your eyes and go to sleep.” Hard as I try, I can’t move her to urge her under the covers, so eventually I grab the other end of the blanket and pull it over her. She’s passed out before she’s even fully covered.

I stand at the edge of the bed and watch her for a minute. Curled up on her side, eyes squeezed shut. I want to lie down beside her and spoon her against me and stroke her hair and tell her it’s okay that she kissed Luke.

But it’s not okay, dammit. It’s not.

Letting out a tired breath, I turn toward the door and flick off the light. Darkness bathes the bedroom. I take one last look at the sleeping girl on my bed and then go downstairs to help my bodyguards kick all the strangers out of my house.

The last stragglers don’t leave until four. I stumble into the bedroom and find Vaughn wrapped up in the blanket like a burrito. I drag a tiny bit of the sheet across my tired ass and fall asleep before my eyes close completely. When I wake up, the blanket’s spread across me and the afternoon light is filtering in.

The other side of the bed is empty.

I bolt upright and jog downstairs. Hands on my hips, I survey the empty, spotless living room. Big D must’ve called in the cleaners. And I slept through the whole thing, including Vaughn’s sneaking away.

“Big D,” I call.

“Kitchen.”

I find him sitting at the kitchen table drinking a bottle of Perrier and doing a crossword puzzle. “Where’s Vaughn?”

“Home, I suppose.”

“When did she leave?”

He checks his watch. “About four hours ago. Had Daniel from ice cream day drive her home.” He pushes one of my business phones toward me. “You’ve got a bunch of messages starting with Jim. Call him the minute you get up.”

Four hours. That’s a while. Wonder what she’s doing now? “Any bad press I should know about?”

“Nope. It’s all quiet in Oakville.” Big D smiles to himself over that witticism.

“Good,” I grunt. As I pull out a bottle of Powerade, I pause and turn back to Big D. “Hey, good morning. Thanks for coming.”

He sets down his paper and subjects me to a long appraisal. “Ty said something about how you were changing. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”