Hot Mess - Elise Faber Page 0,28

she’s been, I’m guessing Derek is, too.”

“He is,” Shan said and then surprised him by asking, “So, are you going to share with the class what was making you have that scrunchy expression earlier, Mr. Finn?”

“I resent the term scrunchy,” he deflected.

“Finn.”

Teacher voice.

She was giving him teacher voice . . . and it worked. He shifted to meet her gaze. “Yeah?”

But apparently, Shannon only used her powers for good because, when his eyes hit hers, she said, face soft, “You really don’t have to tell me.”

He set down his burger. “Do you ever feel like you’re surrounded by people all day but are somehow still all alone?”

She froze, a fry clutched between her fingers, mouth falling open.

He shook himself. Of course, she didn’t. He was just off and in his head. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have said that. Ignore me. I’m just in a weird mood.”

“It’s not”—she set down her own burger, wiped her hand on her napkin, then rested it on the back of his—“that. It’s just—I’ve felt that way so much over the last few years.”

He froze.

“Tell me why you feel alone,” she said gently.

“It’s ridiculous,” he muttered. “No one wants to hear a movie star complain.” A shrug. “I have enough money that if I’m lonely, I can pay people to be my friends if needed.”

“But why would you have to?”

“Or want to,” he qualified. A sigh. “Which is probably why I’m alone.”

“No girlfriend?”

He lifted a brow. “I wouldn’t have kissed you if I had one.”

“Oh—” Her cheeks pinkened. “I—I wasn’t sure how those things worked in Hollywood. Everything seems so . . .”

“Fake?”

She nodded.

“Some of it is,” he agreed. “But a lot of it is real. It’s just . . . sometimes a relationship is a recipe for disaster when us actors spend most of our day-to-day lives being catered to our every whim. You either get two giant egos together, who both have been infantilized into not even being able to get themselves a cup of coffee, or you have one giant ego, and that’s a feat to put up with.”

“You seem to do fine getting your own coffee.”

He chuckled. “Luckily, my family helps me keep my head straight.”

“But you still feel alone?”

A shrug. “It’s fine. I’m one of the few people to make it.”

“Just because you’re successful doesn’t mean you’re supposed to be happy all the time.”

“That’s not what most people think,” he said. “And look, I get it. Most of my workdays are spent in hair and makeup, with my assistant handling my schedule, keeping me on track, and a PA bringing me food as I work beside beautiful people.” He sat back in his chair. “I have five homes around the world. I have eight cars and can charter a private jet when I want to go somewhere. I’ve taken care of my family. I am lucky. I’ve been given a gift, so I should be happy.”

“But you’re not.”

“It’s not that so much as . . .” He faltered for a moment. “People want a piece of me all day, every day—a smile, a picture, a performance, those are easy. It’s the others that are harder—money, favors, introductions, networking opportunities. How do you choose one and not the other? And then with my sister, that fucker raped her, and you know what he did afterward when he found out she was related to me?”

Anger made his teeth grind together, fury burning down his spine.

Shan squeezed his hand.

“He tried to blackmail her. Demanding she pay him off or he’d tell the world he’d fucked Finn Stoneman’s sister and she liked it.”

His hands were clenched into fists, the fucking memory of that bastard and his threats after he’d violated and taken something so precious from Finn’s sister, making him want to punch something. Preferably, the fucker’s face over and over and over again until it was transformed into pulp, until Finn’s knuckles were split open and he was drenched in the blood of the man who’d hurt his sister.

Too far?

Probably.

But he’d never stop wishing that anyway.

And the fucker had taken a plea bargain, was going to be in jail for the next three years.

“Three years,” he said. “The bastard got three years. My sister will never, ever be the same, and he’ll be out in eighteen months with good behavior.”

“I—” Shan reached out and covered his other hand so that both of hers were on top of his. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that disgusting excuse for a human did that to your sister.