"They already put bandages on me."
"I know," I said.
"So, why are you here?" he asked softly. He quickly wiped away the tears from his eyes in a halfhearted effort to cover up the fact that he'd been crying.
"I'm here so you don't have to be alone. You can talk to me if you want, or you can ignore me, but I'm going to sit here with you until it's time to leave because I think you need a friend right now."
"You're not my friend," he retorted.
"No, but I'd like to be."
Chapter Two
~Declan~
The flight attendant had just announced our final descent into Richmond. In twenty minutes, I would be stepping foot in Virginia for the first time in six months. After months of delays, we were finally ready to start filming the Civil War movie I was both the star and executive producer. If given the choice, I would hand the acting role to someone else. Let them deal with the constant attention and the never-ending chatter. But that was a condition the studio had put into my contract. If I wanted my name added to the list of producers in the credits, I had to take the lead role. It was an honorary title mostly, but it would hopefully get me to where I wanted to go.
Acting was never my intention. I had come to Hollywood to direct, but I'd had a hard time getting my foot in the door. So, I'd auditioned for a small role, and got it. One thing had led to another and before I knew it, acting had become my full-time career.
When a little known film I'd done struck it big with several Oscar nominations last year, my name had been plastered over every gossip magazine and Internet site known to man. I had been dubbed the newest up-and-coming Hollywood hunk.
I f**king hated it.
I couldn't leave my apartment for weeks without some dick with a camera following me around asking me about anything from the weather to who I'd f**ked last night. I had been offered every role imaginable. I'd turned them all down. I didn't want to be the next action hero or the newest heart-throb. I just wanted to be left alone to retire from acting so I could get behind the camera.
When the script for this movie had come across my desk, I'd seen an opportunity. It had a small budget, and was an independent film —exactly the type of thing I needed. I'd approached the director and asked if I could step in as an assistant director —only. They'd given me a flat-out no, which wasn’t a total surprise since I hadn't directed a single thing since college. But they had offered the title of executive producer —if I agreed to star as well. It was an olive branch and my hope was that by getting my name recognized for something other than acting credit, it could be a step in the right direction.
I'd accepted, hating the fact that I had to add another acting gig to my schedule, but I was grateful for the opportunity. The director needed my name in the starring role to gain the necessary attention. With Declan James, the hot new thing in Hollywood, cast as the lead, they had been able to land a top-notch actress to costar. It was a compromise, but at least I had my foot in the door now. My only wish was that it hadn't taken so long to get going. Spending six months in Hollywood, sitting around while they finalized everything, had about killed me.
I'd felt like a caged animal waiting to get out of confinement. All my life, I'd been able to go wherever and do whatever I wanted. It was what I'd demanded and expected, and no one had ever stood in my way. Now that my face was everywhere, I couldn't have a private moment to save my life —which meant that every second of my life was watched and scrutinized. If I walked down the street with a woman, she was automatically my girlfriend. If we were seen together twice, we were obviously engaged. It was f**king ridiculous. I'd managed to hang low long enough that the attention from my last movie had died down a bit. Eventually the paparazzi had gotten bored and stopped stalking my house, but I would still get the occasional flash when going into Starbucks or a club. If my last name were Pitt or Pattinson, I didn't think I would have gotten off so easily. But the entire experience had left me paranoid and edgy.
After six months, I would finally be out. Returning to Richmond, I knew exactly where I was going and who I was going to see first —Leah Morgan.
The blonde bombshell had become a permanent fixture in my mind since that one amazing night we'd spent together so many months ago. She haunted me, filled my dreams and made me ache. I'd tried to rid myself of her by losing myself in other women but no matter how beautiful, or sexy, they didn't hold a f**king candle to Leah. It was her face I'd pictured every time I'd come, her body I'd felt every time I touched another and her moans I'd heard echoing through my ears.
She was like an addiction running rampant in my system, and I knew only one way to cure it.
The Captain came on the intercom and said something, probably telling the flight attendant to plant her ass in her seat. The plane angled downward toward the ground and the landing gear locked into place. I looked out the window and saw the darkened city, taking note of the lights dotting the landscape. Anticipation took over as I waited for the plane to touch down. I had been waiting for this moment for months now —ever since I'd decided Leah's invasion of my mind wasn't going to go away on its own. It was going to require drastic measures. I never slept with the same female twice. Repeat performances in one night were fine, encouraged even, but I never, ever returned for seconds. That made them think you had feelings, and I didn't.
Couldn't. Wouldn't. Not ever again.
I wasn't built that way anymore. Monogamy wasn't something I wanted with anyone. I was sure it worked out for some people. But for the majority? No. It was something people did out of obligation or guilt, even though they would rather be screwing their hot secretary or racquetball instructor.
So, I had rules —well, one rule really. Never sleep with the same woman twice. It was a brilliant f**king rule, and it had worked —until Leah. I didn't know what it was that had me so hooked. When I'd picked her out in that bar so many months ago, I had pegged her as just another gorgeous woman. Granted, I'd never seen any other woman who equaled her. With her long honey-wheat hair, striking blue eyes and curves that could kill a man, she was the whole f**king package. The fact that she was friends with Logan's girlfriend just made things easier. She would have been going home with me that night no matter the circumstances. When we'd all sat down together, she had begun fumbling all over her words, and I'd thought "bingo", knowing I had her. The only coherent thing I had gotten out of her all night was the mention of a cemetery when I'd asked her about the history of Richmond.
Trusting my instincts, we had stopped by the old cemetery that dated back several hundred years so I could get a good look for the camera crew to consider as a possible location. Now the location was actually going to be used, thanks to me. As I roamed, taking note of headstones of generals and fallen soldiers, and the various different angles that could be shot, she had seen me. No, it had been more than that. She had seen through me. I'd never felt so exposed before. Usually women saw what they wanted to see with me, and I would let them. It was easier that way. Let them sleep with the playboy movie star for a night, and their expectations are set nearly as high. When I would disappear the next day, they expected it. Leah? She had seen the real me, and it was chilling.