Chapter 15

Blake's face was red with laughter, if you could even call his breathy heaves laughter. He was doubled over like he was in pain – and I hoped he was in pain – all because I'd been dumb enough to tell him what happened last night.

"You... she... hahaha," he choked out, still unable to form coherent sentences.

"It's not funny," I snapped. I was regretting telling him the story more and more each second that passed.

"Hell yeah it is," he exclaimed, finally having calmed down enough to produce a real sentence. He wiped the tears from his eyes and resumed his laughter. "This is the greatest day of my life."

I was never going to live this one down. I had a feeling Sophia would never bring it up again out of sheer embarrassment, but Blake? Blake was going to hold this over my head for the rest of our lives.

"I can't believe you didn't lock the fucking door," Blake said once he'd calmed down again. "Did you learn nothing growing up?"

"I don't know why I didn't lock it, okay? It just slipped my mind, I guess."

I don't think Blake even heard me because he'd once again resumed his laughter. I rolled my eyes and stood up. I was out of here.

"Hey, come on, where are you going?" Blake called out once I turned my back and started to leave. "I haven't even gotten through half of my dick jokes!"

"And that's exactly why I'm leaving," I said without turning around. I left his trailer and headed back to mine, carefully peering around for Sophia, but she was nowhere to be found. Actually, I hadn't seen her all day, not even during our lunch break. Something told me that was no accident and she didn't want to be found.

I didn't see her for the rest of the day since we were filming separate scenes. She was filming some at the high school set while I was filming two on my own and one with the guy playing my father.

At the end of the day, I headed home by myself. It was a Friday night but I didn't feel like doing anything, even after the week I'd had. I guess it was going to be a guy's night in with Bubba.

My phone buzzed as I was walking up the steps to my front door. It was a text from Blake. What are you doing tonight?

Chilling with my dog, I replied. You?

Same. I'll bring the booze. Be there in 20.

I furrowed my eyebrows at my phone. I was willing to bet 75% of the times Blake and I hung out, it wasn't because I invited him but because he just showed up or invited himself over and made himself at home.

Shaking my head, I opened the door and was attacked by a 25 lb. nutball. 

"Did someone miss me?" I asked, shutting the door behind me and dropping onto my knees to pet Bubba. I was kind of ashamed to admit I tended to adopt the dreaded baby voice when I talked to my dog – but only when it was just the two of us. That didn't make us any less manly. "I missed you too. Yes, I did."

Bubba barked in response. His bark was starting to get tougher and tougher. Okay, maybe tough wasn't the right word considering he was only four months old, but he was getting there.

"I bet you're hungry," I told him, standing up and gesturing for him to follow me. I didn't really have to gesture because he tended to follow me around the house, anyway. "Let's go get some food. I'm ordering takeout, so you can have your fancy dog kibble shit today."

Bubba went right for the bowl as soon as I started pouring food in it. He didn't even stop to breathe until it was all gone and then looked at me as if he expected me to give him more.

"Hey, that's all you get. Not my fault your fat ass ate it all in one go. I'm not trying to have an obese puppy."

He sat there and cocked his head at me, still waiting for more. I felt bad walking away, but I had to. If I fed him every time he asked for food, he'd weigh a lot more than 25 lbs. by now. And he was the runt of his litter, so he was smaller than the other males at his age.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I took it out figuring it was Blake. It wasn't; it was Frank.

Don't forget we have a meeting about that new script on Sunday. I think it would be a good next step for your career.

The door opened while I was texting him back and it was, of course, Blake. He'd made himself a key so he could come over whenever he wanted, which was a lot more often now that he'd convinced himself we shared custody of Bubba.

I'll be there. I'll pick you up before the meeting and we'll head over together.

"Where's my favorite fur-child?" Blake called out like I wasn't standing directly in front of him.

"In the kitchen waiting for one of us to drop food."

"I got you, Bubba," he said, heading over to the kitchen. "This is why I'm the favorite parent."

"You're not the one who cleans up after him and feeds him and loves him every day," I called back out. "Oh, my god, I'm turning into my mother."

I needed a drink.

***

Sunday morning, I met up with my mom for a quick brunch. I sort of regretted meeting in a public space when she freaked out as soon as she saw me, as usual.

She wasn't the timeliest person, so I got to the restaurant around five minutes before she showed up. When I saw her approaching – more like heard her approaching – I stood up to greet her. I didn't even get to open my mouth before she latched onto me.

"Oh, my baby, I missed you!" she cried, bringing me in and somehow managing to almost crush me. She was around 5'6" and slim, while I was around 6'2", yet I still felt suffocated.

"I missed you too, mom," I choked out.

"I feel like it's been months since I saw you," she went on, still suffocating me.

I could've broken free, but I didn't want to accidentally hurt her or hurt her feelings. "It's been a week, mom. You came over for dinner last Sunday."

"Same thing," she said, finally pulling away and wildly gesturing for the both of us to sit down at our table. "How's my favorite fur grand-baby?"

"Well, he stopped using my room as his bathroom, so he's making progress."

"Oh, good, good. And when am I going to get a real grand-baby?"

"Mom. I'm 21."

"I know, I know, but a mom can dream. Okay, you probably shouldn't get any of your girlfriends pregnant."

"Yeah... I wouldn't call any of the girls I've dated my girlfriends, besides Cassie," I said carefully. I was pretty close with my mom, but not discuss-our-sex-lives-over-brunch close. I don't think anyone was that close with their parents.

"I never liked that girl," she said, sipping the water the waiter had brought out while we looked at the menu. "I think she knows I didn't like her."

I chuckled. "You literally told her you didn't like her so yeah, I think she knew."

My mom was probably the bluntest person I knew. She always said exactly what was on her mind and she rarely sugarcoated anything. If she didn't like you, you'd know it as soon as she'd decided it. If she did, you'd know that, too.

That also meant she came out with the most inappropriate comments at the most inappropriate times, especially around girls I liked. There was a reason I'd never actually brought any girls home to meet her. She'd only met Cassie because Cassie invited herself to lunch with us one day and I didn't want to tell her to leave in public. It wasn't worth the scandal.

We ordered our food shortly after and talked about everything from my dog to my breakup with Cassie to my new movies to Sophia. She was a little too curious about Sophia.

We parted ways about an hour later and I headed to Frank's place to pick him up. The meeting itself didn't take as long as I'd expected, but it was still around an hour and a half long. In the end, I said I'd keep looking through the script and call with my decision within the next two weeks. It was a serious drama, much different to the movies I'd done so far. I had a feeling Frank could be right about this one. It could be a good next move. There was a reason I kept him around.

The paparazzi caught Frank and me as we were leaving the meeting. Sometimes Frank tipped them off about my whereabouts when he thought I needed more exposure – as if I didn't already get enough fucking exposure. Something told me he'd done it that day. No one even knew I was being considered for this film. It didn't even have a title yet.

"What are they doing here?" I asked, trying to push through the reporters.

Frank didn't even bother answering, maybe because it was hard to speak over the paparazzi or maybe because he'd called them.

"Christian, are the rumors true?"

"Christian, what about your ex, Cassie Lovett?"

"Can you tell us about your new movie?"

"What's going on with you and your costar?"

When I saw the limo instead of my car – which I'd driven here – I knew Frank had set it up. Any event involving my limo was always a set up.

Frank stopped and said, "We're not answering any questions right now. Christian has places to be."

I didn't bother stopping. I didn't want anything to do with whatever he was trying to do, although that was kind of impossible considering everything he did had to do with me.

"Christian, where are you going?" a nearby reporter asked.

I didn't say anything. Instead, I somehow opened the door to the limo without hitting anyone and climbed in. I could still hear their voices and questions from inside. The door was slightly ajar since Frank was still outside.

"Christian, are you going to see your girlfriend?"

A reporter actually addressed Frank directly rather than hurling questions at someone who clearly wasn't going to answer anymore fucking questions from inside the limo. "Frank, is Christian going somewhere with his girlfriend tonight? The night's still young."

"No, he's not going anywhere with Sophia," Frank replied, faking an exasperated tone.