Hollywood Holden: Los Angeles Bad Boys (13 page)

I
'm driving
my crappy Volvo, headed to my very first day on the new job.

There was literally no way I could say no to the offer even if I wanted to. My parents had expectations of me, and I had expectations of myself.

And in the end, I knew what being a grown-up meant. It meant a 401k and a retirement plan and a sure thing.

My stomach is in knots. I'm probably dressed all wrong. This uniform of mine—black pants, white blouse, red lips—was cute when I was a teenager, acceptable when I was a college student ... but now I’m beyond all that.

Now I’ll have all eyes on me, scrutinizing everything I say or do. And I don't want to look like an idiot.

I should be more confident. This isn't my first time at this rodeo. It's not like this is completely new. I've practiced.

But still ... just because I'm prepared, doesn't mean it will be easy.

God knows I've second-guessed my choice a thousand times. I think if Sami had to listen to one more night of my lamentations regarding my life choices she might genuinely have screamed in my face—but, as a dutiful best friend, she chose to support me.

She even came and helped me move out of my parents’ house, loading up a tiny rented U-Haul to move into my own place. Like a real grown-up with an actual job. A career.

And she's slept over at said new place for most of the summer. Because she didn't have a job to go to herself and, luckily for her, her parents are willing to fund grad school.

We enjoyed a California summer, driving to the beach and reading trashy romance novels in the sun. We drank cheap boxed wine in my new digs while binge-watching Outlander. We pretended we were still in college.

Which Sami still is, technically.

And the summer dragged on forever, the build-up for my new job growing every day, mounting as I debated whether I made the right call.

But she left my place last week, and now I'm flying solo.

I wanted to start this new chapter all by myself.

But driving into the parking lot now, lifting the brake, and grabbing my tote bag, I wonder if I made a million wrong decisions that landed me here.

Brought me to today.

Because this is not what I planned. Not what I expected.

But it is always—always—what I dreamed of when I imagined myself all grown up.

I open my car door, and step into the first day of the rest of my life.

S
tepping on set
, my heart races.

I am so fucking excited for this project, even if Trenton thinks it's a complete fucking disaster waiting to happen.

I don't really care, though. I'm going with my gut, trusting my instincts, and going all-in.

This is a risk.

No more hiding behind blockbuster movies that are sure things. This is a gamble. A chance to fucking take a leap of faith.

In myself.

When Jude accepted Cassius's funding for his new film,
Here in a Breeze,
everyone was overjoyed. In fact, it was what led me to get the guts to take that very script to Trenton's office, drop it on his desk, and demand he get me a part.

Of course Jude agreed. Hell, me starring in the film will no doubt give the entire movie a leg up.

Not that I believe Jude will need it.

He's an incredible filmmaker, although a very private one. I don't even know who’s starring in the movie opposite me.

But I don't care. Let him do his thing, and I'll do mine.

Is this movie a risk on a bunch of fucking levels? Hell, yeah. I've been Johnny Jumper, an alpha with a few lines and an eight-pack. Now I'm going to need to actually act.

Act, like Bexley always believed I could.

"Hey, man." Jude steps out of a trailer and greets me. "Looks pretty fucking good, right? And that right here is your private trailer," he adds, pointing to the last trailer in the row.

"Yeah, it looks amazing," I say, taking in the huge lot full of trailers, a massive outdoor set where the opening scene takes place.

I'm not shooting anything today, but I'm here meeting the rest of the cast. I'm playing the modern version of Rhett, and I'm very interested to meet my Scarlett.

"So," I turn to face him. "Rachel doing okay?"

"Yeah, she still has a few months to go. I'm hoping that most of the shooting is done before then."

"It's a tight schedule, but not the worst."

"I know." Jude nods. "Worst case scenario, we blow all of Cassius's money on a shitty film."

We laugh, knowing it isn't even remotely a possibility. After Cassius brought money to the table, several other investors that Jude had been hoping to work with ponied up.

"So, when do I meet the cast?"

"Looks like your leading lady just got here," Jude says, pointing to the parking lot behind us.

I turn, following his gaze.

And blink. My heart beats fast as I take in the sight of the familiar car.

"What the fuck?" I say, my body moving before my mind can even register what’s happening. Then I'm breaking into a run toward the parking lot.

Because hell, walking away has never been my style.

I
shut
the door of my Volvo and walk toward the movie set, still not quite believing that I'm coming here today. That this is actually my life.

The life I chose.

Of course, Principal Pratt offered me a solid job. A career path that a lot of people would find fulfilling.

But not me.

Still, I have no idea what to expect.

I just hope that Jude didn't make a terrible judgment call when he hired me. I hope I can hack it.

Locking my door, I turn around, only to see someone running toward me.

Fast.

I blink. Knowing this moment—the moment I waited for and planned for and really hoped wasn't a complete disaster in terms of timing—is here.

Holden sees me.

He stops across from me, catching his breath.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, and I already feel hope bubble inside me in the deepest, truest way.

He shakes his head. We haven't spoken in two months.

After I turned down my job at Tolling High, I realized I needed to come to LA, like I always wanted, and begin carving out a life of my own.

I knew Jude had offered me a role in a project, but I didn't want to call in favors before I even tried on my own.

But life is funny. After living here for two days—two days where I debated how soon I should call Holden, how exactly I should even apologize—I ran into Jude at the taco truck he'd introduced me to.

And he asked me to audition, swearing he wouldn't even tell the casting director who I was.

And so I did.

And I got the leading role.

That was when Jude told me who the leading man was.

That's also when I came up with the harebrained idea to hold out and wait until right now to apologize to Holden.

Two months is a long time, but a lot shorter than four freaking years. That's a big improvement. And I'm hoping he sees it that way, too.

Jude has affirmed that it will be worth the wait, that the moment will be movie-worthy. Cassius and Evangeline even agreed to help bolster Holden's spirits as we waited with bated breath for the big reveal.

Sometimes, timing is everything.

"I'm out of retirement," I tell him nervously.

He shakes his head. "You're in this movie?"

"Yeah. I'm playing Scarlett." I want to wrap my arms around him. I want to wrap my life around his.

"I'm playing Rhett."

"I know," I admit.

"You knew?"

I nod, scared he's going to push me away. Scared I'm too late, that waiting two months was the wrong call.

"You moved to LA?"

"Two months ago."

"You never called."

"I wanted to give you space," I told him. "To let you decide…."

"What kind of person I was?" he asks.

Holden deserved a chance to decide what kind of man he wanted to be without me there, pressuring him ... at least that’s what his friends told me.

Apparently he's stopped his pool parties, the tabloid-worthy antics. Apparently he used the space he had to become a man—on his own terms, without me pushing him. I would always have questioned if it was what he really wanted.

This way, I’m certain.

And I hope he’s certain, too.

"Fuck, Bexley," he says.

"Am I too late?" I ask, tears filling my eyes.

"I would have waited forever," he says, pulling me to him.

"What's with us and parking lots?" I ask, looking around before he cups my face with his hand. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want a forgiveness fuck," he says.

"I wasn't offering you one," I say, my heart pounding. Hope surging.

"What are you offering?" he asks.

"My heart. My soul. My everything."

"Dammit, Bexley, you can't run again. You understand that?"

"I love you," I whisper, my words covered with my tears, but he hears me, knows me, believes me.

"I'll love you forever." His eyes sear into mine, and there’s no hiding, no holding back.

"What are the odds?" I say, laughing at the tears brimming in my eyes.

"It was always meant to be like this."

"This messy?"

"This beautiful."

He kisses me then, long and hard, our mouths colliding and our hearts crashing, and everything undone, and everything coming together as one.

I couldn't have scripted it better if I'd tried.

* * *