Locked (PresLocke Series Book 2) (14 page)

Understanding crossed Dylan’s face, and he nodded. “Yeah, that sounds great. You should do that.” Then he glanced at me. “I’ve actually got to get going.”

“No, you’re coming with—” I started, but then my mother chimed in.
 

“I think it’s gracious of Dylan to want to give us family time, don’t you?”

No, I don’t
, I wanted to say, but I could tell by the look on Dylan’s face and the way he was slowly backing out of the room to escape that he was more than happy with this arrangement. In all honesty, I would’ve been okay with the
same
arrangement, but—“Chop chop, Ace. We want to get there and get a good table before all the ones outside are taken”—I had no choice.

With a put-upon sigh, I rubbed a hand over the top of my head and nodded. “Okay. Give me twenty.”

My mother finally sat down on one of the couches and crossed her legs as she angled her body toward my father. Then she glanced over her shoulder at the two of us. “Of course, we’ll just wait here, dear.”

This time when she looked away, I couldn’t stop the eye roll, and turned to see Dylan heading toward the stairs. When he got to the bottom of them he stopped in his tracks, and I noticed him looking down at the pants I’d kicked away from us in our haste to get each other naked last night. Then his head whipped around and his eyes found mine and practically drilled a hole in me.

Shit…
I gave a “sorry” shrug, because what else could I really do at this stage? I hadn’t had time to grab them out of the foyer, and when his cheeks flamed and his jaw ticked, I knew that little fact both annoyed and embarrassed him.
 

Okay, yeah, I wasn’t winning any points with that. So I headed over to grab his pants off the floor, and when I reached him at the bottom of the stairs, he shook his head.

“No wonder they don’t want to eat lunch with me.”

As Dylan started up the stairs, I followed closely behind. “Trust me when I tell you, you aren’t missing out on anything. But if you want to—”

“Are you kidding me?” he said as we hit the landing and headed down to my bedroom. “I might’ve wanted to a minute ago, but that was before I knew your mother and father had seen my pants in your hallway, Ace. Jesus.”

“Oh please, like they don’t know with the way we’re dressed what’s been happening here. They’re fine.” Shutting the door behind us, I said, “And trust me when I tell you, the only reason they’re here is to see and be seen, and to remind me how badly my career’s going down the toilet.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s the truth.” I peeled off my shirt as I headed into the master bathroom and then started the shower. When I turned around, Dylan was standing in front of me, and I gave him a mischievous grin. “Care to join me?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? Because my parents are downstairs?”

“No, because you only have twenty minutes, and I’m a greedy bastard.”

I laughed, and when I grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward, the loose jeans hanging off his hips fell to the ground. Laughing harder, I dropped my hand and said, “Looks like your clothes are throwing themselves at me.”

Dylan pulled them back up and held onto them as he grumbled his way out of the bathroom. “Damn muscly giant,” he said under his breath.

“Hey, maybe think about bringing some extra clothes over here next time. And a toothbrush. Maybe the thirteen-inch dildo—”

When Dylan slammed the door shut, I chuckled and kicked off my pants. I’d been half joking, but I couldn’t deny the thought of having Dylan’s clothes hanging next to mine did amazing things to my heart. And the thought of that thirteen-incher did fucking wondrous things to my cock.
Twenty minutes? I only need five with that wicked-hot visual, regardless of who’s downstairs,
I thought as I stepped under the spray.

13

TANGLED VINES

“ACE, WHERE’S YOUR boy toy?”

“Did Dylan already meet the parents?”

“Is it true you two broke up this morning?”

As I handed the valet the keys to my Range Rover, I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes at the shouts coming from the photographers lining the sidewalk of The Vine, the popular lunch spot my parents had chosen.
Yeah, popular as in every goddamn celebrity whored themselves out to paparazzi here to get in the news.
Which was exactly what it would look like. You didn’t go to places like The Vine if you wanted to stay under the radar, so the fact that I was there, with my parents but without Dylan, would likely set off another shitstorm of gossip.

My mom took the crook of my arm as I directed her up the brick walkway that led inside, and as we passed the full-to-capacity patio area, I could feel the stares of the patrons boring holes like bullets into my body.

Smile, asshole,
I thought. It was like I’d forgotten how to play the game. How to keep the press and any onlookers charmed by giving a smile, a wave, a friendly quip. Swallowing thickly, I forced a smile on my face and nodded at a few of the people looking in my direction, and then I held open the door for my parents to walk through and stepped inside the arctic interior.
 

“My, my, all those people there for my boy,” my mom said, looking up at me under her long false lashes.
 

I managed to hold my tongue as the hostess eventually found hers and asked whether we preferred indoor or outdoor dining.
 

“Indoor—” I started.

“Oh, Ace, it’s so chilly in here and I forgot my sweater.” Mom rubbed her arms to warm herself and craned her neck to look outside. “We should probably sit under one of those lovely umbrellas and get some fresh air. Don’t you think?”

My teeth gritted together so hard at that moment, it was a wonder I didn’t spit them out. “Actually, it’s a little chaotic out there.”

“Oh, I’m sure this lovely young lady can find us something that isn’t in amongst all the chaos. Can’t you, dear?”

As my mother turned back to the hostess, the girl’s wide eyes flicked to mine, and I could tell she was thinking—
ain’t nowhere out there that’s not gonna be chaotic when it comes to you—
and I gave her a brief nod, letting her know I was more than aware that what my mother was asking was next to impossible.

“If you could give me one second, Mr. Locke, I’ll have a table cleared.”
 

In other words, she was about to go out to the cramped patio and boot someone
less
important from one of the more visible tables.
This is the last thing I wanted to do today.
I had a feeling that not only was I about to get the whole
are you thinking with your head
speech from my parents, it was also about to take place in the middle of a goddamn circus.

“Okay,” the hostess said when she came back, rubbing her hands together. She beamed at the three of us, probably extremely proud of the fact she’d snagged herself a celebrity that was going to attract a ton of press for her boss, and then she said, “If you’ll follow me.”
 

Without a care in the world, my mother and father began walking after the woman, and I noted the way my mom smiled down at all the eyes watching us weave our way through the tables. She then glanced out at the gaggle of paparazzi pressed up against the white picket fence that surrounded the tiny restaurant, and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear in a coy move designed to make her look shy and unsuspecting of the attention, when really she was anything but. Me…I was sure I looked like a man being led to his execution.

* * *

“CAN I SAY it? You know I’ve been dying to.”
 

I could practically see Derek’s self-satisfied face through the phone, and I rolled my eyes.
 

“If you must,” I said.

“Oh, I must, you withholding motherfucker. Or should I say Ace Locke fucker?”

“Me, withholding? You didn’t tell me Jordan’s name for years, dick.”

Derek’s laugh was loud and obnoxious. “See? You didn’t deny that you’re an Ace Locke fucker. Now we’re getting somewhere. Speaking of, where are you this time? His house? His bed? His Ferrari? Fiji?”

“He doesn’t have a Ferrari.”

“Aaand he deflects again, ladies and gents.”

“Not deflecting,” I said, leaning back against the couch and mindlessly flipping through the limited channels.
 

“Bullshit. He’s there, isn’t he?”

“No.”

“Why’s it so quiet, hmm? You got his mouth otherwise occupied?”

“Fuck off.” I stopped flipping the channels when a shaky image of a man’s profile came across the screen, as if the cameraman was running toward the object of his attention. When they came to a stop and refocused on the man and the older couple sitting opposite him, it became more than clear where Ace’s parents had decided they’d go for lunch today.
Ah hell.
 

“He on his knees?” Derek asked.

As the camera zoomed in on Ace’s chiseled profile, I could see the way his jaw was clenched shut, a thunderous expression on his face, and when he spoke, his lips moved so fast you couldn’t get a read on what he was saying. But whatever it was, it didn’t look like it was good.

“Oh god
dammit
.” I gripped the back of my neck and watched as Ace’s mom responded to whatever he said with a smile, and when she was done, she casually looked at the camera and gave a little nod.
 

“Dude, it was a joke,” Derek said, reminding me he was still on the phone.

“Yeah, shit…sorry, man. I know that, it’s just—” I cut myself off and wondered if I was crossing any lines by telling Derek to switch on the TV. But deciding I needed someone other than myself to freak out about this with, I said, “Turn on channel”—I racked my brain, trying to remember the Florida channels—“two.”

“Huh?”

“Just turn on channel fucking two, Derek.”

“Jeez, Prescott. Cool your jets. One sec.” There was some rustling in the background as I continued to sit on the edge of my couch with a death grip on the back of my neck, and then Derek was back. “
Holy
. Shit.”

“Yeah,” I said as the image on the screen switched to some other cameraman’s feed, and he was clearly not as fortunate as the paparazzo who’d bolted across the street for a prime view, because this was a panoramic shot of the street, and to say Ace had attracted a crowd was a mighty big understatement.

“Christ,” Derek said as I got to my feet, unable to sit still. “Check out that headline scrolling across the bottom.”

As if I could miss it.
Bold print in the box down at the bottom of the screen read, DYLAN BREAKS ACE’S HEART; REFUSES TO MEET HIS PARENTS.

“You’re really dating him, aren’t you?”
 

At Derek’s question, I began to pace back and forth in my tiny apartment. “I didn’t realize that was still a question. Unless you believe that trash.”

“Dylan…you’re dating Ace fucking Locke. Until you call and say, hey, Derek, everything you’ve read is true and I really am seeing Hollywood’s biggest action star, I ain’t gonna jump on the bandwagon of speculation.”

It was that right there that made Derek Pearson someone I knew I would always be able to trust. Someone I knew I could have a moment of
oh shit
with, and it was also right then that I realized…I hadn’t had a moment to even
have
that yet.

“So…?” he said, and I let out a breath.

“Yes. I’m dating Ace Locke.”

Derek’s booming laugh crashed through the phone and into my ear, and even with everything I was seeing on the TV, I felt a grin tug at my lips.

“Dude…he’s a goddamn superstar. I mean, I know I said you would go off one day and marry some rich fucker. But really, Ace Locke?”

“Trust me, I’m as surprised as you.”

“Come on, give me details. What’s he like, all tough and shit?”

Deciding to have a bit of fun with Derek, I said, “Yeah, real tough. Whenever he steps in a room, explosions go off, and every now and then he’ll throw in a commando roll.”

“Hey, fuck you, man.”

“Nah, I think you’d like him. He’s…very…” I couldn’t think of one damn thing to say that would encompass all that Ace was. He was kind, generous, humble, and, yeah, sexy, but I wasn’t about to tell Derek all that and get accused of turning into a sappy bastard.
 

“At a loss for words? Wow. How about you bring him down here for a visit and let us see for ourselves, yeah? Introduce him to the family and shit?”

“Uh…” I thought about Ace in the same room with Sunshine, Ziggy, and Lennon, and chuckled. “I hadn’t thought much about it until now, but maybe one of these days. I do need to head down there soon.”

“You do that, Prescott. We’ll throw a killer welcome party for your man.”

I laughed.
Yeah, no doubt.
“Appreciate that. Talk later.”

“Yeah, later.”

When I ended the call, my eyes flicked back up to the screen to where half of the TV focused on Ace. His face had gone red as he sat there stabbing at something on his plate, while the other side of the screen was a reporter giving a play-by-play of what she assumed was happening.

Maybe I should’ve gone to lunch with them after all.
At least then he wouldn’t have to take the brunt of what his parents were discussing alone.

* * *

I AM IN hell.
This was the thought that was playing on a friggin’ loop in my mind as I sat center stage in my worst nightmare.
 

To my left, it felt as though the entire population of L.A. had gathered on the sidewalk of The Vine with a camera in their hand, and across from me sat my mother, preening for the vultures as they snapped shot after shot of the most uncomfortable lunch I’d ever had the displeasure of sitting through. On my
mother’s
left sat my father, and to his credit he wasn’t hamming it up as much for the spectators, but he wasn’t doing much to stop my mother’s sole focus of this meal beyond the fame this little outing was garnering. And that was to tell me what a colossal mistake I was making in openly acknowledging my relationship with Dylan. Her last statement, actually giving me the need to cut something, beyond the steak in front of me.