CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Jude

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Jude

The last thing I wanted to do after spending the night between Olive's legs was fly out to London to start a two-week international press tour for Love and Arson, but here I fucking am.

"Are you going to glare at me this entire flight?" I ask, looking over at my travel companion for the next few weeks.

We're sitting in first class on a long, boring flight overseas, and Dylan has been burning holes into the side of my head for thirty of the forty-five minutes we've been in the air.

"Are you going to run off on me again and ditch me during your movie premiere?" she counters.

I want to tell her no, that I promise I won't, but I can't be certain. Standing in front of all those cameras was painful, and I had to get out of there. Sure, a lot of that leaving had to do with Olive, but I could have still bailed even if she weren't there.

Dylan sighs. "You know you're going to be bombarded with questions about Olive now, don't you? It was very obvious you two slipped off together, and pictures of you fleeing the venue are already going viral."

"All press is good press, right?"

"That's what the studio is saying, but they're still angry. You're going to have to do something major to get back in their good graces—you know that, right?"

I try to hold back a groan. She's right. No matter how worth it leaving was, I know how badly I messed up by doing so. And I know I'm going to have to pay the price for it eventually. "I'm aware."

Her pinched expression tightens. "You need to be prepared. Now more than ever, they are going to be hounding you about her. They'll want details. Like why you were on that sidewalk with her. If you knew her before then. And why she isn't on this trip with you." Dylan scoffs. "I'm curious about that one too."

"She's shooting with Good Jeans, then has another job lined up when she gets back to New York. She works. That's why she's not there." I sigh, scrubbing a hand through my hair, ignoring Dylan when she fusses over me messing it up. "Why don't you like her again?"

"I don't not like her. I just don't really know her yet. And when it comes to you and people I don't know, I don't trust them."

"But I trust her. That should be all that matters."

"Yes, you also trusted Sophie in high school. And your costar Elizabeth. Or Ruby or—"

"Okay, I get it," I say, interrupting her never-ending list of all the women who have wronged me over the years. They weren't all bad in the same way, but they all wanted the same thing—my name. Who my family is or what I could offer them to help elevate their careers was all that mattered. Not me. Never me. "It's not like that with Olive."

"I'm sure it's not. But I do find it awfully convenient she's unable to make this trip because of a photo shoot with Mitch Dirkson. He's one of the most sought-after photographers working now. You're telling me that before her account blew up like it did, she was collaborating with him?"

"Yes."

Dylan's brows raise. "No kidding." She pulls her lips down, impressed. "Well, color me surprised. I wouldn't think she'd have the numbers to be on one of his shoots."

I've trusted Dylan with a lot over the years, and I know deep down that her attitude toward Olive is all to protect me, but I can't help but be annoyed by her flippant attitude. Olive isn't suddenly getting jobs because she's dating me. She's getting jobs because she deserves them.

"She turned down Blush Jeans."

"She did not."

I tip up my chin, feeling proud of my girl. "She did."

"Why on earth would she do that? That company is everywhere. It's owned by Diamond Sands, the billionaire heiress to the whole Sands dynasty. That's a huge opportunity."

I shrug. "She said the company didn't align with her mission."

"Her mission?" Dylan questions, more to herself than to me. "Huh. That's ..."

"Impressive?"

"Honestly, yes." Dylan shakes her head. "But—"

"Don't let my guard down? Watch for signs? Make sure I resign myself to a life of worry, and never let anyone in because I'm scared I'll get used?"

She frowns. "I've never said that, Jude."

"No, but you've implied it enough."

"I'm sorry. I just ... I worry about you."

"And while I appreciate it, I know when my gut is telling me something good. And Olive? She's good, Dylan. The really, really good kind of good."

Dylan smirks. "So she's good?"

I narrow my eyes at her. "I will fire you."

"As if." She clears her throat. "Okay, let's go over some stuff."

I repress another groan as she drags out her tablet and begins to inundate me with questions and schedules and everything else I'm sure is super important but that I have no interest in right now.

Not when all I can still think about is a naked Olive.

The same naked Olive I left in that hotel bed this morning, with the early sun poking through the curtains, casting a soft glow over her skin.

The same naked Olive I am dying to get back to.

I have no idea how I'm going to survive these next two weeks.

When Dylan finally gives me a reprieve from her endless lists, she heads off to the front of the plane to talk someone else's ear off—the poor flight attendant—and I pull my phone out.

I grin when I see the message waiting for me.

Sunshine: This is me admitting that I miss you.

Me: Say it again.

Almost immediately, dots begin to dance across the screen, and my smile grows wider.

Sunshine: Nope. That's all you get.

Me: Not even if I promise to do that thing you like again?

Sunshine: What thing?

Me: All of it.

Sunshine: It was really nice.

Me: Nice?

Me: NICE?!

Me: I think we can come up with a better adjective than that.

Sunshine: You're right. We can.

Sunshine: It was . . .

Sunshine: Fine.

Sunshine: Okay.

Sunshine: Decent.

Sunshine: Adequate.

Sunshine: Sufficient.

Sunshine: Amazing.

Sunshine: Fantastic.

Sunshine: Incredible.

Sunshine: Mind-blowing.

Sunshine: Toe-tingling.

Sunshine: Toe-curling.

Sunshine: Toe ... Well, I'm out of toes.

Sunshine: WAIT! I thought of another one.

Sunshine: TOEtally awesome. (See what I did there?)

Sunshine: Unforgettable (the good kind).

Sunshine: The-hands-down-best-I've-ever-had NICE.

Sunshine: Do any of those work better for you?

Me: There are a few I'm rather fond of.

Me: And since I'm not a ninny, I'll admit that I miss you. LOUD AND PROUD.

Sunshine: Did you just call me a ninny?

Me: Sure did. Ninny.

Sunshine: Oh, just you wait until you get home.

Me: What are you going to do?

Sunshine: Probably kick you.

Me: I think your phone autocorrected that last text. Surely you meant KISS instead of KICK.

Sunshine: Did it, though?

Me: You're so mean to me.

Sunshine: You like it.

Me: I do. Though I'm not entirely sure what that says about me.

Sunshine: That you really, really like me.

Me: You're right.

Me: I do really, really like you.

Sunshine: I knew it.

"Is that her?"

I glance up to find that Dylan's settling back into her seat. "Yep."

"You smile a lot when it comes to her."

"Do I not smile otherwise?"

"You do. But this is just ... different. Better."

It's the nicest thing Dylan's said about Olive yet, and I'm not about to ruin it by asking follow-up questions or saying something stupid.

So I say nothing at all, turning my attention back to my phone as it vibrates in my hand.

Sunshine: I really, really like you too.

Me: I knew it.

Sunshine: How are you so annoying, so many miles away?

Me: It's a gift.

Sunshine: Hope you kept the receipt.

Me: See? Mean.

Sunshine: See? You like it.

Sunshine: I have to run. Photo shoot time!

Sunshine: Video call later?

Me: Naked and everything.

Sunshine: Tease!

Me: Shhh. Go model, or I'm going to start thinking you miss me or something.

Sunshine: Never.

Me: *Always

"You're not naked."

"I never promised I'd be naked. That was all you." Olive smirks into the camera.

From what I can see of the background, she's on the balcony of the room we shared just last night. The sun is shining brightly, casting a soft-orange glow around her like a halo. She's gorgeous, even from thousands of miles away.

"Well, if you'd like to participate, too, I'll gladly wait for you to undress."

"Keep dreaming, Jude."

"Oh, I will—because a naked you is a really, really good dream."

Her cheeks redden, and I love every second of it.

"So." She clears her throat. "How was the flight with Dylan?"

"Long and slightly painful."

"Painful? Why?"

"Have you met her? She gives a mean tongue-lashing when she's angry."

Olive winces. "I take it she wasn't happy about you abandoning her?"

"Oh, her feelings weren't important. It was all about the press."

"Do you ever get tired of that? Of it all being about the press?"

"Of course." It's true. I do get tired of it. "But I can't imagine myself doing anything other than acting. When I took those years off for college, I needed the break, but I always knew I'd come back to this." I shrug. "It's hard, but I deal with it because I love acting."

"Not every actor lives in the spotlight."

"True. But not every actor is the product of two legacy families joining together as one."

"Ah. How could I forget I was talking to the Jude Rafferty?" She sticks her tongue out. "My bad."

I laugh, adjusting myself on the hotel bed. Dylan made sure a car was waiting for us when we landed, and the second I got my room key, I booked it upstairs to call Olive. I didn't even bother telling Dylan good night, something I'm sure I'll hear about later.

Can I really be blamed? Especially when Olive is grinning at me like she is?

"So how was your first day on set?" I ask her.

"Amazing and wonderful and long and exhausting."

"Do you ever get tired of that?" I toss her question back at her. "Of fake-smiling for the camera?"

"Of course." She winks. "But like you, I couldn't see myself doing anything else. I love it too much."

"What are you going to do after?"

She tips her head to the side. "After?"

"Yeah. After, you know, the modeling career, uh ... um ..."

She bursts out with a laugh. "You mean, after I'm too old to be considered hot anymore—so in like five years, max?"

I scratch at the overgrown stubble lining my chin. "I mean, I was going to word that a little more eloquently, but yes, that."

"I'd like to continue my work to fight for more inclusive and sustainable clothing, maybe even start my own company making just that."

"A clothing company?"

She nods, tucking her hair behind her ear, which somehow makes her look ten times cuter than she already does. She's scrubbed off all her makeup from the shoot, and her hair is up in a messy bun with two strands hanging down to frame her face. She looks relaxed and refreshed as she picks up a glass of wine, taking a sip. "Yes, a clothing company. I think it could be fun. It's a huge pipe dream, though, so ..."

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Minimize your dreams. You deserve for them to come true, Olive."

Her lips part on a soft gasp. "Is that right?"

"It's very right. You deserve more than anything for them to come true."

A smile transforms her face. "I wish I could kiss you right now."

Fuck. Me too, Olive. Me too.

"I miss you."

Three words.

Three simple words and suddenly, my heart is hammering inside my chest.

They shouldn't affect me. Not really. But they do. They make me want to get right back on a plane and fly across the country to her, just to press my lips to hers.

They make me want things I haven't allowed myself to want in a long, long time. Like a commitment ... a relationship ... something real and honest and something so damn good it hurts.

But I don't tell her any of that.

I clear my throat.

"Don't tease." I wink at the camera, trying to play off how much her words have affected me. "Especially not when it's so late."

"Oh god." She sits up, the phone shaking as she jostles around. "I totally forgot about the time difference. You must be exhausted."

"Nah." I totally am. Overseas travel always takes it out of me, especially the first night. "I'm fine."

She narrows her blue eyes. "Liar."

I laugh, loving how she can read me so easily, so soon. "Maybe just a little."

"Go to sleep, Jude. You have a big day tomorrow."

"So do you, Miss Good Jeans Model."

Olive smiles so brightly I swear I can see it from across the sea that separates us. "I am a Good Jeans model, huh?"

"You are, and I'm so proud of you for it."

"Stooooop." She drags out the word, covering her face with her free hand. "You're making me blush."

"You're cute when you blush."

"That doesn't help, Jude," she says from behind her hand. She lets it drop, still beaming with happiness. "You're only being nice because I gave you great sex."

I shrug. "It was nice."

She glares at me, and I laugh.

"Fair is fair," I tell her.

"I take back all the nice things I ever said about you."

"You do not."

"I do too." She lifts her chin in defiance, but it's pointless. A smile is already trying to push through her tough exterior.

"What if I told you how nice it really was?"

She rolls her eyes, but I don't let that stop me.

"Because it was, Olive. It was nice. But it was also amazing and spectacular and stupendous and wonderful and holy-hell-I'm-going-to-have-to-take-many-long-cold-showers-while-I'm-gone kind of fan-fucking-tastic. Especially because all I can think about is how good your pussy tastes and how much I can't wait to sink back inside of you."

"Jude," she chides, but there's no real bite behind her words. Not with how she's squirming in her chair, looking around to make sure no one else can hear. How her eyes are now wide and shining bright with the same thing I'm feeling—lust.

"I miss you."

A slow, soft grin curls at her lips. "I miss you too."

"Good night, Olive."

"Good night, Jude."

I turn off my phone, then do just what I said—take a cold shower, all the while thinking of Olive and how I can't wait to see her again.

I've been standing on this red carpet for all of twenty seconds, and my head is already throbbing from the flashing lights.

"Jude! Jude! Over here!"

"Are you alone, Jude?"

"Jude, look here!"

"Just one shot, Jude! Just one shot!"

"Where's Olive, Jude?"

It's the exact same as it was in LA: bright flashing lights, people shouting my name incessantly, and being asked the same questions every stop along the way. Every red-carpet event is the same. It might be a new country and new carpet each time, but nothing ever changes.

I am officially over this and wish I were back in New York.

No. That's not true.

I wish I were with Olive.

Our video chat last night wasn't nearly enough. I want more. I need more.

But as much as I wish she were here, there is a small part of me that's glad she's not. No reason for her to have to endure this along with me.

"Keep smiling," Dylan says, pressing me on to the next stop along the arduous walk through the sea of photographers before nodding toward a tall woman with long wavy hair and a microphone. "This is Alexa. She works for B! News at their London branch."

B! News, otherwise known as one of the worst "gotcha" media outlets to exist.

"Is there anything I need to know before I walk up?" I ask Dylan out the side of my mouth.

"Nope. You're good. They don't have a thing on you. Though I am sure they'll ask about Olive, so be prepared for that. Best to keep your answers simple with that one."

I nod, completely agreeing, especially seeing the smirk Alexa is wearing as I approach.

This should be fun.

"Jude! It's so lovely to have you here!" She shoves her microphone into my face, waiting on a response.

"Hi, Alexa. It's lovely to be here." I paste on the most charming smile I can muster. "How are you? Having fun?"

"I am, now that you're here," she answers with a flirty grin that makes me uncomfortable, especially when she rakes her gaze down my body.

I laugh politely, trying to catch Dylan's eyes, but she's not paying attention. She's locked in a conversation with someone else.

Awesome. Guess I'm on my own for this torture.

"Have you been doing any other traveling here in London?" she asks conversationally, but I know better than to let my guard down, especially when it comes to her.

"I haven't, actually. All work and no play." Another forced laugh. "But that's life, right?"

"Totally understand. So, tell me, Jude, what are you most excited for with this film? It's incredible! So much action and fun. Audiences are loving it so far. It's your big comeback, right? You've been out of the game for some time. Do you think this will be your push that gets you back to where you were all those years ago on Lakedale?"

Of course she had to bring that up.

"Well, I sure hope so," I answer honestly. I want this to be the thing that takes me to the next level, helps me move past being just another nepo baby or a forgotten teen heartthrob. I want to be something else. Want to be something more. Hopefully, this movie and all the positive buzz around it can do that.

"So did you not like your time on Lakedale, then?"

Son of a . . .

I shoot Alexa a grin that I really hope covers my annoyance. "No, no. Nothing like that. Look, the show was great. It was fun. I learned a lot from the cast and about myself, but it also feels like it was another lifetime ago. I'm ready to focus on this. To focus on Love and Arson and whatever else the world throws at me."

Alexa nods a few times, then pulls the microphone back. "Like a new girlfriend, perhaps?"

Just thinking about her has me smiling and wishing, for the tenth time since I stepped onto this red carpet, that she were here.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Olive O'Brien, right? Where is she tonight? I think we were all expecting her to be your arm candy for such a big event." Her eyes twinkle, and she clearly feels proud of herself for bringing Olive into this. She stares at me with wide eyes, ready for me to make a mistake and slip, to say something she can use against me.

But that's not happening. Not tonight. I am not about to give her more ammo for her vapid magazine.

"She's off being a badass model, making the most out of her own career. She doesn't need to be my arm candy. She shines all on her own."

Alexa's still smiling at me, but that excited spark in her eye fades a bit. She was ready for me to deny it or to play coy. But I'm not going to. Not for her and not for anyone else.

Her grin grows wider. "And what about Keely Haart? You were recently photographed with her, weren't you? Was there something between you two? Maybe a quick little fling? Or is there something still going on?"

Keely?

Truthfully, it's been weeks since I've even thought about her and that stupid fake date. All my attention has been focused on getting through this premiere and getting back to Olive.

I try to catch Dylan's eye again to see if she has any idea how I should navigate this, but she's still looking elsewhere.

Really? This is when she chooses not to be up my ass?

I turn back to Alexa. "That was simply two friends getting dinner together."

Please drop it. Please drop it. Please drop it.

"It looked like a little more than that to me," she presses, and I have to remind myself there are several cameras trained on me right now. Rolling my eyes would be really, really frowned upon.

"Nah. We're just friends." Friends. The word leaves a bad taste in my mouth because I am not friends with Keely, and I never plan to be.

"I guess that means you're okay that she and your brother were spotted out together in LA last night?"

Jasper is seeing Keely? Why doesn't that surprise me?

"Totally good with it," I lie to her. I'm not good with it, but not because of our stupid forced date. I'm not good with it because Jasper can do so much better.

Alexa grins. "How amazing would it be to bring together another Hollywood family?"

"No idea. I don't really think about that much."

"And Olive? How does she feel about your brother dating your ex-girlfriend?"

It's taking everything in me to not walk away from this absolutely fucked so-called "interview."

Instead, I paste on a smile that's big and wide and shows that I am not going to let Alexa from fucking B! News get the better of me.

"I'm sure Olive wouldn't care, since Keely and I are just friends," I reiterate.

Alexa grins. "Even if Olive might have a little interest in more than one Rafferty brother?"

I rear my head back. "Excuse me?"

"Jude, come on." Dylan grabs my arm and tries to pull me away, finally stepping in to rescue me.

But right now, I don't want to be rescued.

I want to know what the hell Alexa is talking about.

"What are you implying?"

She smiles coyly. "Nothing."

But that's not a nothing kind of smile. She knows something. Or better yet, she's up to something.

I just don't know what.

"So, Jude, tell me more about Olive and Jasper."

She thrusts that stupid fucking microphone in my face again.

I clear my throat, then force a smile. "I'm—"

"No comment," Dylan says before I can answer, stepping in front of me protectively. "We're done here, Alexa."

My publicist glowers at the B! News correspondent, who doesn't even flinch. She's still wearing that slimy smile I can't stand as Dylan pulls me away.

"What the fuck was that?" I whisper to her.

But she doesn't answer.

Instead, she marches us past the rest of the photographers, who are still screaming my name, and all the way behind the makeshift screen I'd normally be standing in front of.

Only then does she stop.

She pulls me right in front of her. Her hazel eyes are hard. Serious.

"If I let you go, are you going to run?"

"What?" I laugh. "Why would I run?"

"You ..." She sighs, shaking her head twice. "Promise me you won't, okay?"

"I ... What? Let my arm go."

"Not until you promise."

"You've officially gone off the deep end, haven't you?"

"Jude ..." She squeezes my arm tighter. "Promise me."

"Damn, all right. I promise."

"Good." She releases my arm. "Good."

"Are you happy now?"

"No." She blows out a shaky breath. "Not even close."

I pull my brows together, letting myself really look at her for the first time.

The hardness in Dylan's gaze has turned to worry, and if the way she's biting her bottom lip and eating away at the red lipstick slathered over it is any indication, I should be worried too.

I straighten my shoulders, dipping my chin low as I take a step closer to her. "What's wrong?"

"It's ..." Another nibble on her lip. "It's Olive."

Panic shoots through me.

"What? What about Olive? What happened? Is she okay?"

Dylan's mouth drops open; then she snaps it shut, casting her eyes anywhere but at me.

Panic rips through me, and I take another step closer, forcing myself into her line of sight. Forcing her to face me. "Is. She. Okay?"

She pulls her eyes to mine and says one word.

"No."

All my senses rocket into overdrive, and even though we're outside and not in some stuffy room, that's exactly what it feels like as the air leaves my lungs.

"I mean yes, yes. Physically, she's okay."

I gulp in a breath, gasping like I've just run a marathon.

"Oh god. You ... I almost ... You scared the shit out of me."

I force a laugh, running a hand through my hair in an effort to quell the shakiness.

But Dylan doesn't look relieved.

Why doesn't she look relieved?

"What?" I question, my eyes shooting back and forth between hers. "What is it?"

Wait . . .

"You said physically," I say. "Why did you specify physically, Dylan?"

"Because she might be okay physically but not emotionally."

"Why not emotionally, Dylan?"

Her name comes out sounding like a curse, and it's justified because I'm getting tired of this game. Why is she stringing me along? What could be so bad?

She clears her throat. "Her diary, Jude."

"Her . . . diary?"

"The messages to Jasper. They were leaked."

"They were . . ."

Dylan nods, her lips pulling down. "Leaked, Jude. Someone leaked them. I don't know who, but I swear to you, I'm trying to find out." She groans. "Ugh. I should have made you delete those messages the second you told me about them. I should have ..." She trails off, muttering to herself about how awful this is.

I nod, swallowing the lump lodged in my throat. How could this happen? Why did this happen? And ...

"How bad is it, Dylan?"

She tries to force a smile, but it's pointless. It wobbles and fails so damn fast.

"Tell me," I beg.

"They're all over the internet. She's viral. You're viral. Jasper too."

And just like that, my entire world goes dark.

I turn on my heel and do the one thing I promised I wouldn't—I run.