Stroke It - Brooke Page Page 0,5
a little mental health help. He also told me I should stop deflecting questions when trying to solve the root of my problems.”
She paused her hand that held the tissue, one eyebrow rising. “What are you implying?”
“I’ve asked you the same question twice, I think you’re smart enough to figure it out.”
“Lucky for you, you’re not my therapist.”
I smirked, admiring her grit. “I’m a good listener.”
“So is my dog.”
I frowned. “Don’t tell me it fits in a purse.”
She held her hand over her chest, a mock tone to her voice. “Do I look like one of those L.A. girls?”
“We are in L.A.”
She rolled her eyes, but a smile slipped. “Roxy doesn’t fit into a purse… She fits more in a medium sized tote.”
I laughed. “Of course her name is Roxy.”
“Roxy could bite your head off,” she warned.
Still laughing, I scooted from my spot on the couch to the ottoman, sliding along the dark leather until I was sitting in front of her. “I’ll remember that if we ever come into contact.”
She sat up straight, watching my every move with a scrutinizing eye.
Reaching toward my back pocket, I pulled out my wallet, taking the eyeliner from its pocket. “Here.”
She scowled at the small pen filled with dark makeup in my hand. “Did you just… take an eyeliner out of your wallet?”
“No, it’s a pen,” I deadpanned. “Of course it is.”
She tilted her head, confusion settling in with the furrow of her eyebrows. “This has never happened to me before.”
“You’ve never heard of guy-liner?”
“Yeah, I just didn’t know guys carried it on them like girls do.”
“Now you know, and more will once my line is developed.”
She laughed, a real, snort-filled, whole hearted, laugh.
I laughed with her, ignoring the embarrassment her wide eyes let out. “That came from within,” I teased, and she laughed harder.
So hard she started to cry again. Covering both of her eyes, she began to bawl, full on sobs.
My jaw was slack, my hand still holding the eyeliner.
“Raina! There you are!” A very tall, lanky man with a nasally voice came crashing into the room. “Oh my gosh, what on earth happened!” He shrieked, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Sweetheart!”
I stood from the ottoman before this guy knocked me off of it.
“I just heard. I came the second Mario told me,” he sighed heavily, putting both of his hands on her cheeks. “You know not to run away from him. He’s supposed to protect you! Oh, dear, we’re going to need to make a fast escape. I’ll call Tony and everything will be fine. We’ll sneak you out of this place in a jiffy!”
Who the hell was this guy? His shirt reminded me of a disco ball, his hair gelled into a perfect faux hawk.
“Is this your therapist?” I mumbled.
The pretty guy snapped his head in my direction, jumping to his feet and standing between us. “Who am I?” he exaggerated, throwing his hand in the air. “Who am I? Who are--”
Realization set in, and his face morphed from-- irrational, I’m about to throw shit down to--
“Holy fuck-shit-balls, Jesus Christ, it’s JET RYDER!” He squealed.
He bounced on his tiptoes, holding his hands to his lips, a poor attempt to hold in his excitement.
His words flew out of his mouth at lightning speed. “I am so sorry, I wasn’t even paying attention to who my Raina was talking to, I’ve been so worried about her that I’ve had a one track mind!” He laughed nervously, then set his hand on his hip, holding the other one out for me to shake. “It’s so amazing to meet you.”
When I took his hand to shake, he rotated his arm so it was more of a man taking a woman’s wrist to guide her through a door, or lean down and kiss the top of her hand. He smirked, his eyelashes flashing.
I let go of his hand as nicely as I could.
If that didn’t solidify my curiosity about his orientation, I didn’t know what would. “Nice to meet you, too.”
“Jet, this is my best friend, Calvin,” Regan sniffed, standing and wedging her way between us.
Now I knew why she looked familiar.
Her real name may have been Regan, but she used a stage name. She was Raina Skye, the up and coming Princess of Pop. She was one of those kid stars, landing a popular television show on the Disney Channel.
“Jet and I were just talking,” she said under her breath.
Calvin’s eyes passed between us. “Really?” he drawled.
“You’re good, Calvin. You can take