Page 62 of Off Limits Mogul

He gives me a pointed look before tossing the pint of ice cream on the blanket, the spoon smearing chocolate all over the place. Anger rolls off him.

“She swore you did.” I add the explanation in a rush.

He draws his eyebrows together. “When the hell did she tell you this?”

“A couple months before her death. Our friendship was strained, and we didn’t speak to each other unless it was related to the group. On that particular day, she was in one of her prima donna moods, and decided to turn me into her whipping girl.”

“Before you left… before the blowup?—”

“Rhys…” I shake my head, remorse eating at me. “It was all my fault. I lost my shit and insulted you for being a friend.”

“I warned you. Showbusiness and fame change you. Some people believe they’ll remain unaffected when they make it big, but they’re fooling themselves. When you become a star, you see the world differently. The world sees you differently. Chelle was an extreme case. All the baggage she was carrying didn’t help when you couple that with instant international fame.”

“No, it didn’t,” I say. “She was unrecognizable and unbearable in the end.”

“So we’re clear, I never slept with her,” he says. “I had zero interest in her. She was your best friend, and that was the extent of my relationship with her.”

“I guess she spat those hurtful lies in my face because I was trying to convince her this douchebag she was seeing was using her. She told me I was jealous and proceeded to rear-end me with her words. She even rambled on about knowing of the placement of many of your tattoos?—”

“There are photos of me all over the internet. Not tomention she’s saw me in swim trunks when I had parties at my place before my career went up in flames.”

“Fair enough,” I say.

Rhys places two fingers under my chin and locks eyes with me. “Chelle’s story was fabricated,” he says. “Do you believe me when I say I never had sex with her?” The sincerity shining bright in his eyes is unwavering.

I nod. “I do. Hearing it from you makes all the difference.”

A familiar conflict surges in my chest when I think of Chelle, her sudden death, and how she betrayed our long-standing friendship. I mourn the girl I left LA with. I have issues with the spiteful, and frankly, bitchy woman she became in London. Chelle was well aware of my true feelings for Rhys even though I pushed him away and told him to stay away. After all, she was my best friend and confidant. She was devious enough to plant the seeds of doubt in my head.

“Good,” he says.

He stares at me, his eyes shifting from mine to my lips.

His gaze is so intense, it ignites something inside me.

The seconds ticking away feel like years.

For a few suffocating beats, I pray he’ll kiss me.

A loud bang jolts us and lightning forks across the sky.

“Oh shit.” Rhys scrambles to his feet as raindrops start to fall. “Let’s hit the road.” He packs everything in a flash.

I stand up on unsteady legs, my mind still reeling, and my body still humming.

Thanks for nothing, Mother Nature.

Chapter 13

Rhys

It’s bumper-to-bumper, as a swarm of vehicles crawl to their destination. The ride up to my little sanctuary was relaxing. The return home is a bitch.

The storm hit hard.

It’s like the sky ripped open. A rarity for SoCal. We seek shelter, huddled with a few other people under the roof of the bathroom stalls. Not the best place to be. Half an hour after the rain subsided, I made an executive decision. Riding a motorcycle when the roads are wet isn’t ideal. I don’t plan on going fast, so we should be okay. The fact today is Sunday, plays in our favor. I’m a safe driver, but since Keira is the pillion rider, I’m extra careful. Thank God, I’m not dealing with an anxious novice. She shifts her weight, mirroring me on turns in perfect synchronization. It’s as if we’re one.

All my senses are on alert. My eyes are fixed on the road, cautious of potential threats. It’s bound to happen since Angelenos can’t drive for shit when the roads are slippery.