Crossing The Line (A Taboo Love series Book 3) (18 page)

What the fuck?  I must be really drunk.  There is no way…

“Hey, man, anyone ever tell you that you look just like that Chance Steele dude they’re talking about?” the dumbass asks, pointing at Harvey Levin from TMZ.

“Nope,” is all I answer, popping the “p.” I immediately throw back my shot.

This has got be a joke.  He keeps on trying to talk to me but I completely ignore the tool and take another sip of beer. Then it gets worse. Much worse.  Intimate pictures start appearing on the screen of us in very compromising positions. Parker must be freaking the fuck out.  My stomach drops and I think I’m going to hurl.  I drag my drunk ass to the bathroom and upchuck the entire contents of my stomach, which is mostly alcohol. My chest is burning something fierce, and it’s not from all of the alcohol that just took two trips through my body.

I make my way back to my barstool, and the douchebag is back with his friends.  I didn’t even know that there are pool tables back here. Guess that’s why I didn’t see them before. As I approach my stool, I see two beautiful women sitting at a table a few feet from my stool.  A bottle of water and an appletini.  As I get closer, I notice that the brunette is pregnant. A wild mess of curly blond hair comes in to view.
Shitshitshitshitshit.
  I put my hand to my mouth to smell my breath. Son of a bitch, I reek of alcohol.  Maybe if I just walk past them nonchalantly, they won’t notice me and I can…

“Chance?” I hear my name.  Do I ignore it? Can I pretend not to hear her? 
Motherfucker!
Of course not, these ladies have been nothing but wonderful to me.

I turn around and pretend to be surprised to see them.  That’s where my exceptional acting skills come in handy.

“Hey there, Delilah… Charlie-Q…” Shit, I’m wasted.

“Chance, what are you doing here?” Delilah asks with a frown.

I stop next to their table and shove my hands in my pockets. Is the room moving or is it just me?

“Having a drink?”

“But I thought you didn’t drink,” Charlie says.

I shrug and sway on my feet.

“Shit’s changed,” I mutter.

“Does this have to do with Parker?” Charlie asks sadly.

“I don’t want to talk about that mothafuckin’ pussy cuntbag,” I growl.

Both of their eyes widen. Before either have an opportunity to say another thing, both of their cell phones bing with texts. All of our brows furrow. Both of the girls read their texts, and then look at each other inquisitively. 

“Is everything okay?” I ask, worried. “Did something happen to Parker?” Panic setting in.

Charlie stands, grabbing my hand. “Of course not, sweetie. Calvin is calling a family meeting at our house. There were no other details.”

I nod in understanding but my head is full of all different scenarios.  Does this have to do the TMZ report? Does he think that I have something to do with it?  I feel the bile creeping back up and my hand slams to my mouth.

“Oh god, I think I’m going to be sick.”

Charlie runs to the bar to grab me some water and a damp paper towel. Delilah grabs my hand pulling me to the table. “Sit down, honey. Try to breathe; you are having a bit of an anxiety attack.”

I notice then that my breathing has picked up and I am light headed.  I see Delilah send a quick text and I can only assume it’s to let Calvin know that they are going to be a few minutes. I hope she isn’t telling him about the condition they found me in.

Charlie hands me a glass of ice water and I gulp it down. Holy crap, brain freeze!  I slump back in the chair and try to get my shit together. My breathing is still unsteady so Delilah has me lean forward with my head between my knees. Nope, that’s worse.  The room is spinning and I just want to go home and crawl in to bed.  I’m a fucking mess.

“How you doing, ya big dummy?” Charlie asks, smiling.

“Better.” I lie.

“Do you want us to drive you home?” Delilah asks, ever the sweetheart.

“Naw, I’m good. I just live up the block.”

“You sure?” Charlie eyes me warily. “Parker would kill us if anything should happen to you.”

“Pshaw. That would probably make his life a whole lot easier.”

“Oh, Chance. He’s not in much better shape than your stubborn ass,” Charlie confesses.

That makes me happy in a sick and twisted kind of way. 

“I’m going to head home ladies.  My bed is calling my name. Don’t keep your men waiting long.  You don’t want them to worry. ” I stand up, lean down to kiss them both on the cheek, then head for the door.  I love these girls, but all I can think about is Parker and how much I miss him. 

“Okay. You’re still coming to my wedding, right?”

Shit. “Wouldn’t miss it,” I call over my shoulder as I exit. Damn, how am I going to get out of this one?

Parker

We’ve been waiting for Charlie and Delilah to show up for close to an hour already.  They are out enjoying Delilah’s final hurrah before the baby arrives.  Calvin’s phone vibrates; a text must be coming through. He looks frustrated at whatever he is reading, then shakes his head and hands it to me.

“No doubt this has something to do with you,” he says accusingly.

I read the message:

Delilah:  Will be there asap.  Have a Chance situation to deal with

I hear Calvin telling Nick what Delilah said but he must have gotten the same text. I read it about five more times before I hand it back to him.  That was cryptic and kind of freaking me out.

“What the fuck is she talking about?” I ask Calvin.

He shrugs. “Hell if I know.”

The three of us waste time over the next hour talking about useless shit.  Nick and Calvin whirr on and on about different sports’ teams and stats and scores.  They compare fantasy league points and talk trash about winning.  It’s bad enough dealing with real sports, but now there are fantasy teams.  It’s just…stupid.

The door finally swings open and Charlie and Delilah saunter in.  They look gorgeous as always, but also worried. The troubled looks on their beautiful faces have the men jumping to their sides.

“Hey there, Delilah.”  He kisses her sweetly.  “You gonna tell us what’s going on?” Nick chimes in first. 

Delilah pats him on the chest. “Nothing we couldn’t take care of, Boss,” Delilah reassures.

“Anyone going to tell us why we had to cut our girl’s night out short for a family meeting?  What’s so important that couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” Charlie complains.

I clear my throat and raise my hand. “Yeah, um, that would be my fault,” I answer sheepishly.  “Do you think we can all go sit in the living room?  I have something really important I need to discuss with you all.”

We all take the same seats in the living room as we did the night of the dinner party.  Only this time, I don’t have Chance by my side.  The sense of loss becomes intensified as memories begin to flood my brain. I take a deep breath, feeling completely defeated.  I just told my biological family that I want nothing more to do with them. If my chosen family disowns me after my confession, I will literally have no one – except Grams, but she’s 100. 

“I don’t know where to start. I guess first I need to ask, did any of you see TMZ tonight?” I ask, praying I know my friends well enough to know that they won’t watch trash TV.

They all look at each other, shaking their heads ‘no.’

“Does that have something to do with why we found Chance piss drunk?” Delilah asks.

“He was drunk?” I bellow.  I shoot up out of my seat and start to pace.  I rub my hands over my face and through my overgrown beard. Damn, I need to shave.

“Sit down, Parker, and tell us what’s going on,” Calvin orders, angling his head to the chair I just vacated.   We both know that he knows, so I listen and take my seat again.

Charlie eyes me curiously.  She begins to speak but then is quiet again.  I’m almost positive she knows what’s going on, too. We had a conversation months back about how confused I was at the time.

It’s quiet for a minute, giving me time to gather my thoughts and grab my balls.  Then Delilah chimes in again.

“Why do you and Chance both look like homeless men with your scruffy faces and grown out hair? You look like you haven’t showered in a week and have dark circles under your eyes.  Is this for the movie?” she asks innocently, and I so love her kindness. I hope she still feels that way toward me in a few minutes.

“No, LaLa, it’s not for the movie. It’s…we…” but I’m unable to say it.  I look at Charlie and she gives me a sad smile but nods her head in encouragement.

“We broke up,” I spit out then take a deep breath.  There, I said it. “Or rather, he broke up with me,” I repeat sadly, unshed tears threatening to spill.

“Come again,” Nick requests.  “Why would they have you break up in the movie?  Isn’t there supposed to be a love story between the FBI agents?” he asks naively. Interestingly, he’s the smartest dude in the room and I’m still going to have to spell this out for him.

I feel like such a dick. Why can’t I just say the words?  I look at my four best friends.  Each one has been there for me in a different way, but they have always supported me. From law school to leaving my job to starting acting to just needing advice, not one of them has ever let me down.  And Chance should be here with us.  He belongs here, next to my side.

“Just spit it out, my man.  Nothing you can say is going to change a thing,” Calvin tells me, throwing me a bone.  He knows exactly what to say.

I nod my head at him in understanding and take a deep breath.  I scoot forward in my chair, taking control of my shit.  Time to own it.  I make sure to look directly at them and not at the floor.  I’m freaking the fuck out on the inside. Here goes nothing.

“I’m gay.”

“You’re what? But I’ve seen you with multiple women,” Nick says in confusion.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t know if ‘gay’ is the right word. I’ve been in a relationship with Chance for about five months now, but we recently broke up,” I say.

“Okay,” he says slowly. “You’ve been sleeping together, yeah?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Do you think you’d ever want to go out with a woman again?”

“Doubt it, I only want Chance.” I frown.

“Well, I won’t so much call you ‘gay’ either since you’ve spent most of your life as a straight man, but you can’t help who you love and if that’s a guy, then so be it. If he’s the only person – man or woman - you want to be with, then go get him back.” Nick shrugs.

“I concur,” Calvin states.

“Me, too,” Charlie cheers.  Only one person left.  I hold my breath, all eyes now on Delilah.

“I totally agree, but I want to add one thing.” Delilah smiles.  “That’s hot!” She fans herself, a blush creeping up her cheeks.  She is so cute!

We all burst out laughing, and just like that, I know now more than ever that: one, this is my family, blood or not, because they offer me unconditional acceptance and love;  and two, I will stop at nothing to get Chance back.

Chapter Sixteen

Chance

I paste on my best charming smile, step out of the limo and onto the red carpet. Damn, it's hot out here; maybe leather pants were a bad choice. Flashing cameras immediately blind me. Screaming from fans erupts, causing my ears to ring. I smile and wave. How did they know that I’d be here?  Reporters start shouting my name and vying for my attention. They all want an interview. Both Parker and my publicists already warned them all that we would not be answering any questions about our rumored romance – now or ever - so I don’t really know why they are here. It's been a month and a half since that ended anyway.  Our love life can’t be the most important piece of news out there.

Wondering where I am that has a red carpet and vultures? It's Calvin and Charlie’s wedding. Well, not their wedding wedding, because they are already married, of course. This is their reception that they never had because Charlie was already pregnant, and she wanted to wait until the babies were born. Since Charlie is connected to the Hollywood world, she wanted to have her reception set up like an award ceremony, red carpet and all.  I guess the paparazzi and screaming fans make it all that more realistic.

Calvin actually rented out a castle overlooking the Adirondacks, and the close family and a few friends are staying there. I politely declined his offer.  Knowing that Parker is sleeping in the next room would be pure torture.

Parker and I had initially planned on showing up together as “friends.”  I was going to be his plus one, but that obviously isn't happening. And since we are not speaking outside of work, I have no idea if he even knows that Charlie invited me.  I hope it doesn’t piss him off that I came, but I really wanted to be here for Charlie and Calvin…and maybe salvage whatever I can from our friendship. We are stuck with each other for a while now between finishing the movie, then promos and TV appearances.    It's bad enough that I still have to shoot the movie with him in silence, I can’t bear the thought of living this way much longer.

My heart breaks every time I see him. I hate going to work everyday, looking at his handsome face and knowing that he'll probably never be mine again. I guess I was right when I said that I didn't think that he wanted it as badly as I did. He did nothing to fight for us. After everything we shared, he just let me walk away without a word. Not only did I lose the man I love, but we had become best friends, so I lost that, too.

I dig deep to put on a good show for everyone. It's really hard to smile and act normal when you feel like drowning your sorrows with a bottle of Jack. I probably should stop drinking, but right now it's been helping dull the pain.

I just finish my first interview when I hear the crowd roar. I turn around to see Parker getting out of a limo. My heart skips a beat. Why does he have to look so gorgeous? The paparazzi starts yelling for pictures of us together. Aw, fuck me. I really don't want to get that close to Parker right now.  One whiff of him and I’ll need more than that bottle of Jack.

He turns and spots me. A soft, hesitant smile playing across his full lips. I can't help but watch him as he starts toward me. He's wearing a sharp navy blue suit with a crisp white shirt with the top button undone, no tie, and matching navy Chuck Taylors. Damn him for looking so spectacular!

Putting on a show for the camera, we act as if nothing is amiss between us. We greet each other with a big hug and slaps on the back. And it kills me to do it. The flashes are blinding. When we separate, we stand next to each other, arms around each other's shoulders and pose for pictures.

We walk the red carpet together, do interviews together, and chat with other wedding guests as if nothing is wrong, as if we're best buddies. We make it inside and I break away from Parker, finding a bathroom to go hide in for a few minutes. Luckily, there is a couch in there for me to flop down on. I rest my elbows on my knees and drop my head into my hands. I fight the urge to scream.

The bathroom door opens with a creak. I don't even care who it is and if they see me like this so I don't bother looking up. The footsteps head right for me. Shit. I'd know that cadence anywhere. The couch dips next to me as Parker sits down.

"Hey," he says softly. "Are you okay?"

I sigh and straighten up. I refuse to look at him, though. "Yeah, fine. I just needed some space," I tell him briskly.

"I tried calling you," he murmurs.

"Yeah, I know. I was out."

"With someone?" he asks, the hurt in his voice is clear.

I can’t help but turn my head to glare at him. "That's none of your goddamn business," I snap.

Parker flinches but nods. I hate that look in his blue eyes. That guilt, that sorrow, that regret.

"Chance..." he starts, his eyes searching mine. His brows are furrowed deeply, letting me know how truly upset he is right now. "...Fuck..." he sighs heavily and hangs his head.

Parker

When Charlie first told me that she invited Chance, I have to admit, I was annoyed. Not that she did it, per se, but that I would have to endure another night of seeing him.  Watching him. Knowing that I can’t reach out and touch him or hold him.  That he will never be mine again. But when I stepped out of the limo and saw his sexy ass in those fuck hot leather pants, my heart began to race, my dick got hard instantly, and I knew.  I knew for sure that I will never want to be with another person again - man or woman.  I knew that I had to make this right. It’s time to listen to my Grams and fight for him – my best friend, my soul mate, my one true love. 

Seeing him on the sofa in the bathroom is heartbreaking.  He looks so…broken... so tormented…so gorgeous.  I take a deep breath, it’s now or never. I have to do this. I have to apologize while I have him here with me. I need to fight for him. Because I want him in my life. I need him in my life. I don't give a shit about what anyone else thinks.  Chance’s opinion is the only one that matters. I'm so in love with him.  I lift my head and look into his dark brown eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Chance. I'm sorry I was such a pussy. I'm sorry I didn't fight harder for you – for us. It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. I hope that one day you can forgive me and maybe give us another try.  I want nothing more than to be with you.”

He doesn’t say a word so I keep talking.  Anything to keep him here with me as long as possible.

“And just so you know, it was my brother who hired someone to spy on us, but don't worry, I kicked his fucking ass," I tell him.

Chance's face is passive, except for the tiniest hint of a smirk. "Did you really kick his ass?"

I nod. "Yeah, pretty sure I broke his nose. He definitely had a busted lip, too. And quite possibly needed stitches for a cut above his eye."

Chance rolls his lips in to fight off a full-fledged smile and nods. "Nice."

“And I told Nick and Delilah.”

His head whips around and eyes snap to mine.  “You’ve been busy,” is all he says.

With unshed tears and a sad smile, I place my hand on his knee and squeeze. "Busy as fuck missing you, Chance."

His dark eyes lift to meet mine, but he doesn't say anything in return. I sigh and stand. I said what I had to say and now I need to go before I attack his mouth. He's obviously trying to play it cool, so I'll leave him alone, but I am nowhere close to giving up.  I exit the bathroom and head into the crowd that’s lingering in the lobby.

Chance

I give myself a few minutes to get my shit together after Parker leaves, trying to digest all of the shit that he just laid on me.  His apology was sincere; I saw it in his eyes. And he outed himself to his friends and family. Wow, that’s big…for him.  He said that he wanted us to be together, but does that mean publicly? I just don’t know if I’m ready to jump back in with him not knowing if he is ready to step out of the closet and not live in hiding. Because as far as I’m concerned, the next reporter who asks me if I am gay is going to get the story of his career.

I finally step out of the bathroom to see that the lobby is completely full of guests.  There is extra security at the front doors, as well as, placed around the whole building. There are also undercover police inside trolling around, the guests completely unaware. Calvin did this for not only Parker and me, but also because some of the guests are the politicians from his club, and others are just worth a lot of money. Windows are covered with beautiful linens to ensure scoping cameras aren’t used – we learned that the hard way - and everyone here knows that they are not permitted to post any pictures on social media of anyone without their specific permission.  

An announcement comes over the speaker system, letting us know that the grand ballroom is going to be opening and that we should find our seats when we enter.  As I enter through the floor to ceiling glass doors, there are beautiful vases on a table immediately to the right with our table assignments written in calligraphy on the flower petals.  As I head toward my table, I stop and take a look around. The extravagance and grandeur of this room, if you can call it a “room,” is nothing short of spectacular. The largest crystal chandeliers one can dream of are hanging from the gold leaf ceiling. Chihuly sconces adorn the tapestry-covered walls with matching centerpieces as high as the eye can see.  There is a bar at each corner of the room and a dance floor in the middle. Behind the dance floor are two separate stages.  One for what looks like an eight piece orchestra, the other for a band. Damn, Calvin spared no expense.

Distracted by the magnificence and clear opulence of the room, I am surprised when I bump into a table.  Lucky for me, it’s my table.  Aw, hell, Charlie and Delilah are sneaky little schemers.

The table is full of guests, including Nick and Delilah, with the exception of one empty seat right smack dab in between Parker and Calvin’s sister, Carla King.  She has a sour puss and a drink in her hand, looking pissed off and a little tipsy at the same time.  But she has the perfect idea. Instead of sitting, I beeline it to the nearest bar.

Parker

Chance takes one look at me, and instead of sitting next to me, he’d rather drink.  I can’t believe that Charlie and Delilah were right. I’ve never seen him drink and I’m devastated that I am the reason he started.

He comes back to the table with a beer in his hand and introduces himself to the few people he doesn’t know. Most of them know who he is, but they are polite and shake hands with him.

He continues to drink through dinner and I can tell that he is getting drunk.  He is swaying a little and brooding.  Still sexy as fuck.  We continue to eat in companionable silence, the guests at our table pretty much keeping to themselves.   Nick and Delilah are telling the story about the drama that went down at their wedding between Charlie and Calvin.  And I hear Carla snort. Not like she is laughing, but a loud, obnoxious displeased noise.