Summer Fling Read online

  “Val,” I choked. “Chris cheated on me.”

  The words tasted like ash. Uttering them made what had happened upstairs real, and suddenly I was not just angry. I was heartbroken, too.

  “Jesus Christ, what a fucker.” Val sucked in a breath. He sounded like he was driving, probably back from work. Val was still single, living in the same small town we came from. He’d taken over Dad’s carpeting business and had done well for himself. “You caught him in the act?”

  “Yeah,” I heaved, refraining from mentioning with whom. It seemed gossipy and distracting to the real issue here—Chris had cheated. Did it really matter with whom he’d cheated on me? The point was that he had. I let my tears fall, fat and hot and ngry. It was a cleansing kind of cry. A cry where you purge out all the negativity and frustrations. I wasn’t crazy in love with Chris, but I’d felt content with him. Obviously, that was enough. Not for him, though.

  “I have nowhere to go. I mean, I could probably check into a Holiday Inn Express for a couple weeks, but…”

  But I needed an apartment. Pronto.

  It was summer, and L.A. was buzzing with tourists and out-of-towners paying thousands of bucks a week on Airbnb. It would take me weeks to find a place. I had friends, but they were all living with partners or roommates, and it seemed rude to crash on them like that. Plus, I just didn’t have time to start looking for an apartment. I had a bunch of deadlines to hit with the soap opera, The Fast and the Fabulous, not to mention I’d just bought an expensive car, booked a vacation to Cancun for Greta’s bachelorette party, and spent a considerable amount of money on crap I’d thought I could afford.

  “Wait, don’t do that,” Val said. “Give me a few minutes, okay? I think I can work something out for you. Shit,” he mumbled, facing some internal battle. “I can’t believe I’m doing what I’m about to do.”

  “Huh?” I could barely hear him through my bawling and my phone buzzing. Chris was texting me like mad, but reading his excuses was low on my to-do list.

  “Just wait,” Val growled. “I’ll call you in a few. I can hook you up with something. Maybe.” He hung up.

  I waited, thumbing down my screen, reading Chris’ text messages.

  Chris: Fuck, I’m so sorry you had to find out this way.

  Chris: Nika, I swear, I thought I could quit him. I wanted to break up with him from the moment I met you. I really do love you. I will always love you. We can work it out.

  Chris: Okay. Fine. Sorry. I’ll take care of everything with the landlord. I’m here if you want to talk.

  Chris: Please don’t tell anyone about this, okay? This could ruin Johnny’s career…and mine. He has kids. A wife. A reputation.

  That was what he cared about? That I wouldn’t run my mouth to the tabloids? I shook my head as Val’s name popped up on my screen again. I answered.

  “Good news,” I heard the tight smile in his voice. “You have a place to crash in the Hollywood Hills. It’ll give you time to figure things out, and it’s completely free. All you have to do is babysit a cat on and off, which I figured wouldn’t be a big deal, since you work from home most days.”

  “Oh my God.” I laughed through my tears, wiping them. Relief washed over me. One less problem to worry about. “That’s amazing! Who is it for?”

  “Adam. Adam Mackay. Remember him?”

  I choked on my own breath. I thought I didn’t remember him, up until the moment Val said his name. But thinking and doing were two completely different things, because as soon as his name fell from Val’s lips, all the memories rushed back, crashing into me.

  “Adam Mackay,” I repeated dumbly. “Didn’t you say he lives in New York?” I asked in my most casual tone.

  “Yeah. He went to L.A. about six months ago, once his Broadway show was done. He is filming an action movie now, between L.A. and Mexico. His cat is super old. I think you know her. Betsy?”

  Sure. I knew Betsy. From all the times I didn’t go to Adam’s house, because Val refused to let Adam and me develop any type of friendship on the grounds that his best friend was a manwhore. In other news—I had no idea who Betsy was. “Anyway, he mentioned something about needing a cat-sitter but not trusting anyone with his apartment, and I thought this would be a great fit. I didn’t want to tell you before he said yes, though. So I called and asked him.”

  “And he said yes?” I asked doubtfully. I’d pretty much ghosted Adam to death after the way he’d treated me the last time we were in the same room together.

  “Sure did.” “Does he know that it’s me?” I was trying to breathe regularly, a mission I couldn’t quite master.

  Adam. Mackay. And. Me. Under the same roof.

  It didn’t compute. It sounded crazy, and yet, I knew it was the logical, grownup thing to do.

  “Of course,” Val said. “I told him you were in a pickle, coming out of a bad breakup. He said he’d be happy to have you. Why, do you have a better option? I’m sure he won’t mind.”

  I didn’t. Unfortunately, Adam was my best shot. I probably wouldn’t have to outstay my welcome, but he was my chance at surviving this breakup without missing some major deadlines.

  It had been a decade. I’d had several relationships, one of them a serious one. I was no longer the starry-eyed teenager who’d worshipped Adam like he were some kind of a titan. Except now he truly was a Hollywood god. I just had to put on my big girl panties and pretend he hadn’t broken my heart.

  “Nope. No better option,” I heard myself mutter.

  “All right. I’ll text you his address now.”

  “Coolio.” Did I just say coolio? I was already starting to lose brain cells from simply thinking about living under his roof, before I even saw him again.

  “Oh, and Nika?” Val asked before hanging up.

  “Yeah?”

  “I know it’s farfetched, but if you two screw each other, I’m done with both of you.”

  “I thought you were in New York.”

  That was the first thing I told Adam Mackay when he opened the door for me, anger and pain lacing my voice.

  No hi. No thank you. No how have you been this past decade? Sorry I kicked you in the balls. Did you ever check if you could reproduce?

  I said it before I even got a good look at him, and once I did, my knees buckled and I remembered why I’d put an entire continent between us as soon as I was able to.

  His face was radiating with a gorgeous, heartbreakingly beautiful smile when he saw me. That smile dropped faster than the NASDAQ during the coronavirus epidemic.

  Eighteen-year-old Adam Mackay looked like your next beautiful mistake.

  Twenty-eight-year-old Adam Mackay looked like your gorgeous, colossal downfall.

  He was taller, wider, and scruffier. He had stubble now and crinkles around his eyes and forehead that seasoned him into a sex symbol. I still looked much like I had at sixteen: small, blonde, blue-eyed. A Russian doll, with a heart-shaped face, small but pouty mouth and average build. Not L.A. skinny, but not heavy, either.

  “Nice to see you, too, Nik,” Adam said dryly, catching himself. No hug, no pleasantries, just pushing off his door and walking deeper into his condo. I followed him, rolling the suitcase I’d managed to get from my apartment after my texting session with Chris. The place was everything an expensive Hollywood Hills bachelor’s pad should be: clinically and minimally furnished, white fixtures, expensive pop art everywhere, and futuristic-looking kitchen appliances I was one hundred percent sure he didn’t know how to use.

  “Found the place okay?” he asked disinterestedly, not turning back to look at me. Crap, I’d really done it this time. I couldn’t just fake a smile and hug him, could I? My knee-jerk reactions when it came to this man scared me.

  “Sure.”

  “Good to know. You weren’t always the best at reading the map,” he jabbed.

  Ouch. But also: I totally deserved this.

  “Guess I have Waze to thank,” I said sweetly. I wasn’t ready for another battle. I
felt weak and battered, furious and confused with Chris. Still, the old Adam ache was quick to sneak back into my heart. Adam did the talking for both of us, giving me a reluctant tour around the house while I wheeled my suitcase over his crème limestone floor.

  “Here’s your room. There’s an en-suite. Betsy is somewhere around, ruining a piece of Italian furniture with her claws. She likes company, should be fed twice a day—her food is in the pantry, top shelf—and likes her water bowl refreshed frequently. I’ll be in and out of here. If you need anything, call my assistant.”

  Adam didn’t only treat me coldly, he handled me like I was a complete stranger. I mean, I did ice him out and refused to hear him, but then he practically half-assaulted me. He might hadn’t known he did, but that didn’t make it any better.

  “Okay,” I said on autopilot, dumping my bag in the guest room. It looked plusher than any space I’d ever inhabited. “I will take care of Betsy. Thanks for…” I motioned around with my hand. “Everything. And sorry for being aggressive earlier. It was uncalled for.”

  He jerked his chin in my direction, but said nothing. That’s when I realized Adam taking me in had nothing to do with his fondness toward me. All of it was gone. This favor was all about doing Val a solid. Being unwanted here was a depressing thought.

  “Truly.” I took a step toward him, smiling weakly. “Thank you.”

  “Bad breakup?” He scoffed.

  “Oh, the worst.” I chuckled bitterly. “Seriously, think of the worst possible scenario, then continue going. That’s how bad it was.”

  “At least now I know that you can feel.” He smiled bitterly, clutching the fabric of his black shirt.

  “Adam…” I winced. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say. Maybe that I’d felt all along. That that was why I’d pushed him away when I’d just had too much.

  Adam beat me to it.

  “Just get out as soon as you can, Nika. You are, and always will be, someone I will take care of. But just because I do care doesn’t mean that I should, and it definitely doesn’t mean that you should take advantage of it. Do we understand each other?”

  “Crystal clear.” I swallowed, watching his back as he walked away. I finally understood what it felt like for him all those years ago.

  Seeing me running away.

  I hadn’t realized he felt anything toward me. That this was mutual. That this could have been something.

  The temperature dropped, and all I could think about was how nothing had changed. The air was still soaked with electricity when we were together. My fingertips still tingled. I still couldn’t look away from him.

  I was still in love with Adam Mackay.

  I’d just put my love on pause.

  SIX DAYS PASSED before I saw him again.

  I was writing on my laptop, perched on his white leather couch when he walked in. It was close to one in the morning, but I’d always been a night owl. Since we hadn’t exchanged phone numbers, our schedules weren’t exactly in sync. I straightened up on the sofa as he breezed inside, not sparing me a look. In the days he was filming in Mexico and I was taking care of Betsy, a half-deaf, fully-blind British Blue, I’d had time to reflect on our lackluster reunion.

  Mainly, I realized that I was being a shithead. High on my anger toward Chris and still bitter about never fully recovering from Adam, I’d just acted like a brat, when all Adam had done was do me a huge favor I didn’t deserve.

  “Hey there.” I smiled, putting my laptop down on the coffee table and standing up awkwardly. Adam frowned, but didn’t offer me any words. My new, schizophrenic congeniality obviously wasn’t appreciated. He ambled into the kitchen, throwing the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He popped it open and took a long draw, leaning against the stark white countertop and staring like he was contemplating what to do with me.

  “So. Um, I’ve been reflecting on our reunion, and perhaps I was a little, okay—a lot—thorny, even after the apology I gave you. I wasn’t in the right headspace when I got here. Plus, I never really thought I’d see you again. I was pretty surprised you agreed to let me stay here.” I stopped, gauging his reaction. His response never came. He took another pull of his beer, watching me with those hooded, dark eyes that made me feel like I was evaporating into smoke.

  “Please say something.” I winced. “Anything?”

  “Thank you for your apology”—he pointed at me with the hand that held the beer—“however, I do not accept it.”

  “What?” I blinked. He put his beer down on the counter and waltzed past me, his arm brushing my shoulder.

  “I didn’t hear the words ‘apologize’ or ‘sorry’ in your long-ass speech. It was a cop-out explanation, which sounded more like an excuse. Just to be clear—you’ve hurt me, Nika. Not just physically—my balls still resent my dick for liking you—but also for shutting me down all those years ago. You being here is a solid for Val. Don’t mistake my generosity for sympathy, because I have none. I loved you, and you smashed my heart into dust. Nothing can change that. Definitely not a half-assed apology.”

  He charged to his room. I chased him.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to stop him. “I never apologized for kneeing you in the balls and I never will. You fingered someone else in front of me.”

  He turned around sharply, pinning me to his wall and growling in my face.

  “No, I didn’t, Nika. I fucking pretended to. We did that as a joke, Maya and I. I knew you were looking and wanted you to finally snap out of your goddamn bullshit and own up to your feelings. She did me a solid.”

  I felt the air leaving my lungs and my eyes widening in shock. He boxed me to the wall, his arms on each side of my head. I had nowhere to run. Not that I wanted to. For the first time since we’d met, we communicated our feelings with words and not slow grinding.

  “I knew I was heading to New York the week after, and I didn’t want to leave things hanging. At that point I’d have taken anything you had to offer me. Be it a goodbye kiss or a long-distance relationship. But I wasn’t sure if you were into me. Not the way I was into you, anyway. I didn’t know if you were in love with me or with the idea of having a senior dude constantly chasing you. I wanted to make you jealous.” His eyes dropped to my mouth as he licked his own lips. “And I did. I was going to tell you the truth about Maya, if you’d have let me put a fucking word in. But no. You went for my nuts instead.”

  I blinked at him in horror. “You didn’t really do it?”

  If there was a stupidity contest, I wanted in. I hoped there was a cash prize. I could definitely do with a nice boost to my savings account.

  Adam pushed off the wall, spinning on his heel and advancing back to his room. I tailed him. “Of course I didn’t finger her. I was half-obsessed with you.”

  “What about the other half?” I asked jokingly.

  “The other half knew you were going to break my heart, and damn, do I beat myself up every day for not listening to it.”

  I was at his heel again, feeling like a foolish puppy, riding a dangerous high full of affirmation. There was also a sweet, dreadful ache for the time we’d lost together laced into that feeling. Before I managed to get into his room, he slammed the double doors in my face.

  “Sorry, Nika,” he warned from the other side of the door. “I’m never putting myself through this again.”

  “Through what?”

  “Pining for you and wondering how you feel.”

  “It’s been a decade. I’ve changed.”

  “You greeted me with ‘I thought you were in New York’. For the record, my pathetic ass was going for a hug prior to that. We’re obviously still playing the cat and mouse thing. Spoiler alert: I’m Tom, and I’m getting hammered and injured by little cunning Jerry. No more.”

  I stared at the doors, letting my head drop into my hands. He was right. He’d greeted me with a terrific smile before I’d barked at him. The truth was, I was a great communicator until it came to Adam Mackay. It f
elt like my pride was slipping from between my fingers whenever we were together. Like I needed to make sure he knew I wasn’t in love with him. Only I was. The entire time. Maybe I still could be… What a mess.

  I heard his back sliding down one of the doors as he sat on the other side. I did the same, pressing my back against the door he leaned on. I could practically feel the heat of his body radiating through the wood. The back of his head thudded against the oak in a steady rhythm. I knew his eyes were closed, like mine.

  “Fuck,” he hissed, laughing humorlessly. “I did this to pacify your brother, but one look at you, and I’m back to square one. I don’t suppose you’d be open to the idea of staying at the Chateau Marmont until you figure your living situation out? My treat.”

  “Um.” I fought a slow-spreading grin, something warm and fuzzy nestling behind my ribcage. He cared. He felt. He liked me back, even after all those years. “I’ve never been to the Chateau.”

  “It’s great. Designed like a brothel, but great.”

  “Been to a lot of brothels, Mackay?” I quirked an eyebrow.

  “Absolutely not.” There was a comedic pause. “Just a couple.”

  I laughed. “What about Betsy?”

  “My assistant can take care of her.”

  “What about us?”

  “There is no us. You made it pretty clear a decade ago. And again this week.”

  Adam Mackay liked me.

  No, more than that, he liked me enough to make a stupid mistake when he was a teenager in a bid to make me jealous. His plan had worked. Too well, in fact.

  Now that I knew his motives, it changed everything.

  Was it awful that it (mostly) made me forget all about Chris? It wasn’t that I didn’t care for my ex. I did. And I knew I would never, in a million years, cheat on him while we were together. But Chris didn’t truly love me, and if I was being honest with myself, I didn’t truly love him, either. The only reason we chose each other was because we were the safe option for one another. I knew I was never capable of getting hurt by Chris as I had with Adam. Case in point—I’d caught Chris cheating, and it still didn’t rip my heart out of my chest the way seeing Adam with Maya had.