Taming Hollywood's Baddest Boy - Max Monroe Page 0,95
waiting to happen.”
“But you were a fun disaster,” Howie chimes in with a grin etched on his lips.
“Yeah, I was a real good time, but I was a loose fucking cannon. I had to get out before I completely lost myself.”
“Well, I missed my wingman. It’s been hell without you.” Andrew waggles his brows. “You ready to get back in the LA pussy game with me?”
“Nah, man. I’m spoken for.” A soft chuckle slips from my lips. “Anyway, it sounds like you’re doing just fine on your own.”
“Spoken for? Last I knew you were solo in the wilderness,” Andrew questions, his eyes narrowing. “Explain yourself.”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I respond without hesitation. “I’m with someone, end of story.”
Technically, I’m not with anyone yet, but that’s really only a matter of time and semantics.
I only have eyes for Billie Harris, and in my mind, that truly is the end of the fucking story.
I don’t want anyone else.
“Who?” he asks, his eyes bouncing back and forth between Howie and me. “Do you know about this, Howie?”
Howie raises both of his hands in the air. “I know as much as you do.”
“It’s a new relationship, but it’s serious. And that’s all I’m telling you for right now,” I chime in, and Andrew starts to open his mouth to retort, but I’m quicker to the draw. “You good, though, Andrew?” I ask him and tilt my head to the side.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, are you good? Have you slowed down on all the fucking partying?”
Back in the day, it felt like that was all we did together—booze, drugs, women, parties.
He shrugs. “I still dabble.”
Howie snorts. “He more than dabbles. Andrew here is a one-man show of sex, sin, and debauchery.”
Andrew waggles his brows. “What can I say? The ladies can’t get enough of me, and I sure as fuck can’t get enough of them.”
I shake my head on a laugh. “Jesus, I should’ve known.”
Howie smirks. “He’s at least taken my advice on double wrapping his dick prior to his dirty sexcapades.”
“It’s true,” Andrew says with a nod. “I suit up my cock in two layers of condom armor these days. And sometimes, if things seem a little riskier than usual, I add a third layer.”
“Three condoms?” I laugh. “Can you even fucking feel anything?”
Howie cracks up.
Andrew grins. “I can feel enough. Plus, it makes my stamina off the fucking charts, if you know what I’m saying.”
“Fucking hell, it might be time for you to move to Alaska. Get some goddamn perspective. I’ve got a place you can stay in for a while.”
“And leave this lavish life and all the beautiful women roaming about?” He holds out his arms and smirks. “I don’t think so.”
Howie rolls his eyes. “He’s at least keeping up with his career. That’s one thing I can say in his favor.”
“What are you working on now?”
“I’m getting ready to do a movie with this bastard,” Andrew answers after he takes a sip of his beer.
“Oh yeah?” I question and meet Howie’s eyes.
“Yep.” He nods. “Just got the green light from the studio. We have most of the cast, just looking for the female lead.”
“What’s the project?”
“A little film called Grassroots.”
Andrew smiles proudly. “I play Cal Loggins.”
I laugh out loud. “Wait…as in Cal Loggins, the famous country music singer?’
“You guessed it.”
“You?” I question. “A fucking singer?”
He flips me the bird. “I can sing, you fuck.”
“Voice lessons,” Howie adds. “Lots and lots of voice lessons and auto-tuning.”
I laugh again. “Now that makes more sense.”
“You know,” Howie continues, “it’d be a real fucking honor if you’d do a cameo in this flick…”
“Is this why you asked me to dinner?” I tease.
Howie grins. “It was part of it.”
“Send me the script, and I’ll consider it.”
“No shit?” he questions in surprise. “You’ll actually consider it?”
“I might have been a bit of a dick back in the day, but I was always a man of my word.”
“You just didn’t make any fucking apologies for your word.”
I grin. “That is also true.”
“Hey,” Andrew chimes in. “Did I see you driving a fucking Ford Edge up to the valet, or was I just seeing shit?”
“It’s a rental,” I answer. “And what’s wrong with a Ford Edge? It’s a good car.”
“Jesus,” he mutters. “Luca fucking Weaver cannot drive around in LA in a goddamn SUV.”
“You do realize I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks of me, right?”
He waves me off and snags his phone from the table. One tap to the screen and he puts it to his