Page 52 of Gluttony
“Sure. Whatever.” He collected the empty croissant packet and put it in the trash. If she needed space, then, whatever. Who was he to press? She had her own mind, and he wasn’t the type to wait around and mope.
“Tony, don’t be like that.”
“Like what?” Like the asshole she always thought he was?
He stopped at the trash can, closed his eyes and counted to three. He wasn’t an asshole. He hated them.
“Right, well, just stay here until I come to get you. We’re still not much closer to identifying your stalker. And come to think of it, now that I know your secret, maybe the stalker does too. Why else would the words ‘I know’ be written over your things?”
“Because they’re imbeciles.” He came back to the bench and continued to clear.
“She. Becausesheis an imbecile. The CCTV footage from the studio showed a blurry female. You didn’t read your emails, did you?”
He waved her off, pretending not to care and to be enthralled with doing his dishes. Those croissants weren’t sitting well in his gut. If she didn’t want company, then he’d go down and use the gym. Perhaps finally try on the new Deadly Suit and make Parker happy. The two of them used to be close, but then he’d turned into a prideful prick, and Tony had become busy with his work. He missed the days they used to base jump from the tallest city skyscrapers.
“You know,” she started, voice tight and getting louder. “You can’t keep pretending to be this person you’re not. I want to get to know the real Tony I met yesterday. If he decides to show up again, let him know I called.”
Bailey left in silence.
Damn it.
His energy waned, so he took a seat on his balcony, dropped his head into his hands and listened to the sounds of the city. Traffic, horns blaring, a dog barking, a siren in the distance. Sour trash and something acrid like new bitumen floated up in a breeze. He looked down at his palms and called on his power, testing it. Hot blue light rose in his veins, lacing over his hand in a network of strength, or of potential devastation. This fire inside him was unavoidable. Pushing it down had done no one good, but despite knowing this, he still didn’t feel any closer to being at peace with himself.
I want to get to know the real Tony I met yesterday.
At the sobriety house? When he exploded like a blue sun? The pretty playboy actor?
He only had one chance to make her like him, and so far, she’d not fallen for his old act. He had to admit; the act was getting tiresome. At the sobriety house, he’d felt no pressure. Hanging out with Akeef, talking music, helping the kid realize his potential. It was… fulfilling. And then Elena. The look of accomplishment on her face when she’d learned to defend herself. Those moments felt real.
He scrubbed his face, confused, conflicted, and a little afraid. The only surety in his life right then was the constant need to be with the woman who’d calmed his soul, even if she didn’t feel the same way. And if she never did, that was going to hurt. Wanting something he knew would make him hurt, but wanting it anyway was just another addiction, wasn’t it?
There was only one thing to do. Make it feel good. Make it easy. Make Bailey want him, and hope that she liked the real Tony. The man beneath the act.
Seventeen
Frustrated,Bailey vigorously scrubbed shampoo through her hair. Goddamn, that man. Since she’d come home to get some space, her mind had been crowded with thoughts of Tony Lazarus. Tony without a shirt on. Tony with his wicked smile. Tony offering to make her coffee. Tony with a sad face when she told him she needed some space.Sure. Whatever.
She grimaced at the tiled wall of her shower. He had no right to make her feel bad about needing a moment to herself. After everything they went through the previous day, after all the secrets revealed, she needed to gather her thoughts. And he still held her at arm’s length. He needed to work out whether he could be authentic with her. What was the point in holding back anymore?
“Don’t whatever me,” she mumbled, irritated, but when she dunked her head beneath the stream, and closed her eyes, she saw Tony’s sexy face as he came in to rub his nose along her cheek. She felt the tingle spear down to her stomach.
I love your fire. I love your attitude. It makes me hard when I think of you.
Why were his words so wickedly charming?
I need more.
Maybe she did too. She shut off the faucet and paused, listening. Had she heard a sound? Tony?
Her heartbeat quickened. Getting out of the shower, she nabbed a towel and wrapped her body, and then used another to cover her hair. Holding her breath, she opened the bathroom door and rushed out into the kitchen. Was he here?
There was no one there but an empty home, and no other sound but the beating of her thundering heart. Her recently poured Cosmo sat untouched on the counter, and the television was off. There was no one in the fridge, rummaging through her salad ingredients, no one eating croissants. A sharp twang of disappointment sliced through her and she shook her head. It was stupid. She was being stupid. With a deep breath, she forced herself to slow down and finish getting ready for the day. She needed this time alone. Right?
* * *
Bailey watchedthe sea of press part to make way for Tony Lazarus as he walked through the simple banquet room in the Ritz Hotel. His waiting cast members occupied a long bench at the top of a makeshift stage. He was a gravitational force that dragged every bit of attention his way.
And he seemed to love it. A grin here, a wink there. He even mentioned one of the paparazzi by name. If you didn’t know him better, you’d have missed the twitch of tension in his casual posture. Despite his easy smile for the crowd, Bailey sensed the man would pounce like a wild cat, attack his prey and grin salaciously as he devoured his meal. She was coming to see that he wasn’t a man, but a wild, beautiful thing contained in skin. Some kind of inferno made flesh.
