Hollywood Princess (Hollywood Royalty 2)

“Okay, baby,” I whisper to her and lean down to kiss her. The sound of Cori laughing in the background makes me think this just might be okay. We walk back into the kitchen and heat our plates and then fill Cori in.

“I keep telling you never go to the door,” Cori tells Kellie, who just rolls her eyes. “You never learn.”

“Well, I did now,” she tells her. “Thanks.”

“I think you changing things will be good,” Cori says. “No one will know.”

“That is what I think, too,” I tell her. “Also, no more long bus rides.” I expect Kellie to say something or protest. “If it’s eight hours or less, we can do it, but after that, we get a plane.”

“Finally,” Cori says. “There is only so much I can take, and the nineteen hours together was my breaking point.” She grabs her water bottle. “So are we telling people about you two dating?”

“No,” Kellie says. “It’s the three of us, and that’s it.”

“So does that mean no more dates for you?” Cori teases. I get up, grab the plates, and walk over to the sink, rinsing them off and then putting them in the dishwasher. Ignoring Cori’s laughter. I leave them at the table while I make sure all the arrangements are ready for the rest of the tour.

“That bed has to be the most comfortable bed of my life,” Cori says from the back seat. “I swear I felt I was floating on a cloud.” I look over at Kellie, who just looks at me and smiles. We went to bed together last night, but we didn’t spend much of it sleeping. Now we are on our way to the venue. “I’m sending half your shit home,” Cori continues talking. “If you need an outfit, we can improvise.”

“Thank fuck,” I say to them. “It’s about time.”

“You always have to be prepared,” Kellie says. “You never know when you’re going to need a sparkly ball gown.” She laughs. “We really did overpack.”

“We?” Cori interrupts from the back. “Don’t put a we in this. You, your stylist overpacked.” She turns to me. “I tried to talk her out of it.”

I hear Kellie gasp. “Liar.”

We pull up to the venue, and I park the car where I was instructed to, leaving the keys inside for the guy to get it once the concert is over. “Here we go,” Kellie says, getting out, and we walk side by side into the venue. Our fingers graze softly when she leaves to do the sound check. I sit in the front row, looking around. To think, in six hours this place will be full of screaming fans.

We hit the gym as soon as she comes off the stage. She’s with her trainer, and I’m on my own but always have her in my sight. She walks out while I’m finishing up, and I grab a water bottle ready to follow her when Stacey comes in. Her hair is tied high on her head, her eyes going bright when she sees me. “Well, well, if it isn’t the man I’ve been looking for,” she purrs.

I just look at her, my blood boiling when I look over her shoulder and spot Kellie standing there leaning on the doorjamb. “Not sure why you are looking for me.”

“Well,” she says, coming close to me, “I was hoping you could maybe spot me.” I shake my head.

“No can do,” I tell her, “but I’m sure someone else would be more than happy to.” A fake smile fills her face as she tries to recover. I start to walk to the door and then turn around. “Oh, and I’m not sure you heard or not, but someone is going around saying I fucked you in the hotel gym.”

I watch her eyes go from pissed to a deer in a headlight, her mouth gaping but no sound coming out. “Now, you and I know that shit didn’t happen, right?” She nods. “I put a squash to it the minute I heard the rumor. I would hate for it to be done in a public announcement.”

I don’t bother saying anything else as I head for the door and see Kellie turning to walk away. Once I get to her side, I say, “Did you come back to spy on me?”

“No.” She tries to lie. “I forgot my water bottle.”

“Did you?” I tell her, stopping in the middle of the hallway. “And I guess you forgot it again?” I look at her empty hands.

“You just went from super hot to super annoying in a split second,” she says and storms away as my laughter fills the halls.

Chapter Twenty-One

Kellie

“Can one get blue vagina?” I ask Cori at the breakfast table two weeks later, making her almost choke on her cereal.

“What the fuck?” She coughs as she tries to swallow. “Holy shit.”