Bad Reputation Read online

  “Stop.” Peyton’s nostrils flared as she watched Blake’s lust manifest in his body language. He dipped his head and rounded his shoulders as he stepped forward to back her into the wall. “Stop it,” she growled, standing her ground to resist. But Poppy’s tequila had her footing weaker than usual. Stumbling backward, Peyton felt herself suddenly sandwiched between Blake and a cold, brick wall. “Get off of me, Blake!” she practically spat as she shoved him away.

  And the second she did, she spotted a glint of something way across the roof.

  Connor. His grey eyes had caught hers at the exact moment she’d looked over. He blinked at Peyton, simply watching her as if expecting her to have things under control. Blank, Peyton stared back for a moment – but then she felt Blake’s hands on her waist. To her own surprise, she instantly flashed Connor a look. One that asked for him to come. Now.

  And he did. Without a beat missed, Connor paced across the roof, maneuvering through the crowd with his steely gaze still fixed upon Peyton. She kept her own eyes on him as Blake’s lips grazed her ear.

  “What, am I going to piss off your mystical boyfriend?” he asked, a smirk audible in his murmur. “Here’s an idea, P. Why don’t you give him a call right now and ask him to make an appearance? Maybe we could give Santa a ring while we’re at it, and perhaps the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy and – fuck!”

  Mid-sentence, Blake’s body yanked backward. Peyton froze, eyes wide as she watched Connor appear behind him, gripping the back of his shirt with one hand, holding him just above ground. He muttered something in Blake’s ear that was inaudible to Peyton. Blake practically squawked in response.

  “Fuck – ow! I’m sorry! I didn’t know!”

  “Know what?” Connor snarled, letting go of Blake, who scrambled to his feet.

  “I didn’t know she was your fucking girlfriend!”

  Connor paused and eyed Peyton for a moment, but then his stare cut right back to Blake. “Your hands don’t belong on her regardless.”

  “Fuck, I’m sorry, okay?”

  “Say it to her.”

  Peyton swallowed, unblinking as she watched Blake regain his footing to look at her. He squinted, as if he still couldn’t fathom her being anything but single, available for his harassing pleasure. “I’m sorry,” he practically spat but when Connor stepped forward, he tried again. “I’m sorry! Really sorry,” he repeated hastily, sounding genuine this time. He looked to Connor as if asking if his apology sufficed. Connor turned to Peyton.

  “That’s as good as it gets with him,” she said, rolling her eyes to Blake. When he opened his mouth to speak, she interrupted. “Just go home,” she muttered. “And don’t try to talk to Kensie again, she’s done with you. I promise.”

  Blake glowered, smirking the way he did whenever his ego felt bruised. But then without a word, he sneered and stalked off, shoving past the staring crowd and heading back down the stairs. Suddenly aware of the attention, Peyton shrunk back against the wall, into the shadows. Her adrenaline fading, she felt drunk again. Hammered, really. Connor looked at her with concern as she desperately clutched the wall for balance.

  “You okay?” he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.

  “Poppy spiked my drink,” she blurted, not knowing how else to explain her state. As Connor shook his head and muttered something about Poppy, Peyton leaned against the wall, feeling suddenly exhausted on top of being drunk. Shit. Kensie, she remembered but when she took a step forward, her knees buckled. Before she knew it though, Connor had her caught.

  “Easy,” he said, his voice like velvet in her ear. Peyton blinked, drowsy, slowly realizing the fact that she was wrapped in his arms. She stared ahead at her palms, which were flattened against his hard chest. She wanted to rip them away but they were the only things keeping her from leaning entirely on him.

  “I have to find Kensie,” Peyton sighed.

  “She left a half hour ago.”

  “What?” Peyton stared up at Connor with eyes so wide and perplexed he had to smile for a second.

  “Yeah, she bumped into a friend. Some girl with pink hair – ”

  “Vee,” Peyton groaned, knowing right away. Kensie’s deejay friend, Vee, had just brought home an eight-week old Chow Chow and Kensie had been beyond desperate to see it. There was no doubt in Peyton’s mind that her cousin had just up and left The Green Room upon spotting Vee, simply because she was dying to go play with a puppy. “Thank God,” Peyton exhaled, letting her head fall forward. It was only when she felt Connor’s laugh rumble against her cheek that she realized she’d let herself collapse onto him.

  But in that moment, she didn’t even care.

  She had braved Poppy’s tequila attack, dealt with the return of Blake and gotten news that Kensie hadn’t in fact gone and done something drastic. So leaning on Connor Schaffer for a moment was definitely not the craziest thing in the world. Plus, she was incredibly drunk, and that was certainly helping her reason that it wasn’t completely weird to just pause and relax against a nice, hard chest. She was tired. She deserved this break and Connor hadn’t told her to move anyway.

  In fact, he’d put a soothing hand on the back of her head.

  Peyton opened her eyes. They had been closed for who knows how long but Connor’s surprisingly warm touch had awakened her. Blinking, she stared off the edge of the roof, buying time by pretending that she was still in a complete daze. Gazing at the city lights, she tried to absorb the fact that this was real. Seconds ago, she’d been flirting with panic. Now, she was better than fine and getting every last ounce of comfort from the hands and body of Connor Schaffer.

  This is happening right now, Peyton reminded herself. But when she felt Connor tilt his head down a bit to look at her, she quickly closed her eyes again.

  “Hey,” he said quietly, finally dropping his hand from her head. Peyton pretended to let her eyes flutter open. She looked up to see Connor gazing at her, vaguely amused. “Good morning,” he laughed. “Russell told me Kensie’s got a screen test with Kyle tomorrow. Should we get you home?”

  Peyton nodded, though for some reason, she didn’t want to move from her spot in the shadows, nestled perfectly against Connor’s chest. But eventually, she did, letting him kneel for a second, look her in the eye to make sure she was truly fine, and then escort her to the back exit where they got in his car to drop her off home.

  10

  Peyton stared down at her packed suitcase in disbelief. On the bright side, she’d never been to Russell’s hundred-acre private island. So there was that.

  “Bitch. I can’t believe you’re gonna be in the fucking Bahamas with Connor Schaffer and Kyle Laurie,” Hailey grumbled, her words muffled as she flopped from her back to her stomach on Peyton’s bed. “The fact that you get to watch them walk around in swim trunks all day makes up for the fact that you probably won’t get to hang out with them.”

  Peyton chewed on her lip. She wasn’t so sure about that.

  It had been about a week since her dramatic night at The Green Room and since then, life managed to get even more eventful for her. It started with Kensie realizing that Blake was truly back in New York. While her initial reaction was similar to that of Peyton’s, her fury eventually turned to curiosity and then, predictably, yearning. Horrified by her emotions, she promptly vowed to find herself a new love interest ASAP, so that she could prove her unavailability to Blake while simultaneously distracting herself from returning to him.

  And since they had shared sparkling chemistry during their screen test, Kensie decided that her new prospect would be her Haymaker costar, Kyle Laurie. Also, since she was actually quite clever when it came to matters concerning her relationship status, she convinced her father to schedule a “cast trip” to his private island in The Exumas.

  “I’m just freaking out, Daddy. The blogs are already talking about how I only got the role ‘cause I’m a Cohan and I’m scared I’m not gonna be good enough. I just want to make sure I have the best chemistry with
everyone, so please can we just do a mini-vacation with the cast? So we can all bond before we’re on set? You did it for that other movie of yours and it won an Oscar!” Kensie had argued with Russell. She had half of a point. Russell had in fact scheduled trips for the casts of his other films before but they were generally after production, as a means of celebration.

  Despite that, Russell went ahead and scheduled the trip to his island anyway, convinced that Kensie did in fact need some time to build chemistry with her costars before filming. Scheduled for the trip was a group of about fifteen that included Kensie, Kyle, Connor, director Jackson Torres and about six other cast members. Then, of course, there were the assistants. Peyton fell into that group but worse, so did Poppy Somerville, whom a week ago had spiked Peyton’s drink. Apparently, she was the best friend and former stylist of one of the actresses, Isabel Kinsley, and Isabel had agreed to take Poppy on the exclusive trip as an “assistant.” It was not too different than Peyton’s position with Kensie but it was unfortunate because, well, Poppy was an asshole.

  But despite her extreme attention-seeking tendencies, Poppy wasn’t Peyton’s concern. Not by a long shot.

  “I seriously don’t understand this reluctance to go. I think I’m getting personally offended that you’re not more excited for this trip,” Hailey said as Peyton languidly zipped her leather suitcase. “What could possibly go wrong on a trip to a private island in the Bahamas with super hot actors that include Kyle Laurie, who will probably be wearing the same Thierry Marc briefs that he does in those ads that all the girls are stealing out of store windows?”

  Peyton bristled quietly. Awkward moments with Connor Schaffer? Since I plan on punching him in the face for booty-calling me twice in the past ten days?

  It was so unfortunate. She’d actually started to gain some respect for the guy after her fiasco with Blake at The Green Room. He’d done everything right that night. He’d let Peyton try to handle Blake on her own. He’d come to her rescue the second she asked him to. He’d scared the shit out of Blake with minimal violence and then brought Peyton home. Unless she imagined it, he’d also given her back a gentle rub when she moaned with nausea in the car. A shiver rippled up Peyton’s arms as she recalled that memory. Every time she did, she blushed and told herself that she might’ve made it up.

  But what she didn’t make up was Connor taking her home because her doorman had vouched for that. Peyton had refused to let Connor upstairs so he’d had her sit in the lobby while he went out to buy aspirin, water and a bagel from the twenty-four hour deli. He’d watched her take the aspirin, finish the water and then take a few bites from the bagel before letting her go upstairs alone. He hadn’t been particularly gentle or affectionate the way he had with her at the club or in the car, but Peyton appreciated his dutiful instructions of “take this” and “drink that.” He was babying her enough – she didn’t need him to flat-out coddle her. It would’ve made her uncomfortable and she had a feeling Connor knew that. So once Peyton was properly fed and hydrated, he rolled his eyes, laughed and said, “Take it easy. I’ll see you soon, Peyton.”

  She remembered that she liked the way he said her name. She didn’t remember why, but she did, and it was a good cap to their strange night. As she drifted off to sleep, Peyton remembered thinking, “He’s not a bad guy.”

  But then Connor ruined it by waking her up at 2AM the next night. Peyton had been asleep when his text came in. She didn’t know how he got her number but he had and all he was using it for was to text the words, “It’s Connor. You up?”

  Two nights later, he called at 1:15AM. The next night, at 1:40AM. Both times, Peyton was asleep and both times, she fumed at the fact that he was contacting her at an hour that meant only one thing: sex. Because what else would Connor Schaffer be calling a girl for past midnight? Or at any evening hour, really. There couldn’t be any possible reason besides a need to satisfy his late-night, post-drinking sexual appetite.

  Peyton found it so grossly disrespectful that she ignored him entirely. She decided to just take comfort in the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to see much of Connor anymore. Filming was set to start soon and Kensie’s early call times meant less partying. And less partying meant less need for Peyton to swoop in and save the night.

  But then, of course, Mila Milani told Kensie that she’d spotted Blake back in the city, which of course led to Kensie’s panic-induced plan to find a new boyfriend, which eventually led to her idea of the Haymaker cast trip. So now, instead of avoiding Connor Schaffer, Peyton was set to spend the next four days with him on a secluded cay in the southern Bahamas. Awesome.

  “Goddamnit, I am not letting you leave for the plane looking all sad and gloomy,” Hailey said, hands on her hips as she planted herself in front of Peyton’s bedroom door. “You tell me what’s bothering you right now or I make you hold up the whole jet.” When Peyton only snorted in response, Hailey frowned. “Does it have to do with Blake? Did he try something on you again?” she asked, extra quiet since she knew that Kensie was somewhere down the hall.

  Peyton pursed her lips. The answer was yes but amazingly, that wasn’t what she was most bothered about. She was bothered about the fact that Connor had saved her from Blake only to try something on her himself. She didn’t want to admit it but she felt an overwhelming amount of disappointment over that, which meant that she actually cared about Connor Schaffer to some degree. Which was disturbing to realize. What is even wrong with you? Peyton asked herself.

  “Hailey, I promise nothing happened with Blake. And I’m actually excited for this trip, it’s just not showing because I’m so tired,” Peyton lied, putting on a convincing smile for her friend.

  “Okay, good. Then steal a pair of Kyle Laurie’s underwear for me, okay? And take as many shirtless pictures of Connor Schaffer as you can.”

  “No.”

  “Alright, well at least come back with lots of stories about all the drama that goes down. Promise?”

  “There’s going to be no drama.”

  “Bitch, you know that’s not true. Now promise me I get the lowdown the second you come back.

  With a sigh, Peyton relented. “Okay, promise,” she said as she rolled her suitcase out the door.

  The last ounce of stress or irritation or whatever it was plaguing Peyton melted once her feet sunk into the plush Bahamian sand.

  Three hours ago, she had still been vaguely annoyed in a Connor-related way but now she was in full vacation mode. Since their charter happened to become an all-girl affair with four actresses and four assistants, Kensie had turned the flight into a shamelessly girly spa session. She’d forced everyone to pick something “white, taupe or dusty pink” from her collection of gauzy sundresses and her costar, Isabel Kinsley, had volunteered her toe-polishing talents. Peyton had to admit that it was fun, even if it meant wearing a way-too-low-cut dress while listening to Poppy Somerville moan about how that hockey player never called her back. At least she wasn’t the only one.

  “This is incredible,” Isabel breathed once the girls stepped foot inside the main villa. The exterior of the house was a stark white with intricate moldings but inside, rooms were accented with tropical orange hardwood and natural stone. White crochet hammocks hung in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows and already, a spread of freshly sliced mango, pineapple and melon lay across the dining room table, bookended by two bright bowls of pomegranate seeds.

  Though they’d eaten on the plane, the girls chowed down, instructed by Isabel to take “the best pieces” of the fruit before the boys came in and “inhaled everything.” It was only when she said that that Peyton remembered Connor was even coming. “When are they getting in?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

  “Oh, I think the guy on the yacht said – ”

  Interrupting was Poppy. “Kyle just texted me and said that they landed fifteen minutes ago. He told me they’re on the boat over here now,” she said, eyes still glued to the screen of her phone. She twirled her caramel locks and ra
n her tongue along her lip as she replied to the text.

  “If it isn’t already evident, Poppy has a massive hard-on for Kyle,” Isabel announced. “And she’s vowed to get in his Thierry Marc boxer briefs by the end of this trip.”

  Kensie eyed Peyton with a half-joking look of trepidation. Peyton returned it, knowing well that the whole trip was planned just so Kensie could pursue Kyle Laurie and distract herself from Blake. She was in full support of the plan too, having Googled only wonderful things about Kyle Laurie – stories about buying his single mother a new car after his first big paycheck, tales about flying across the country between shoot days to meet a sick fan. That kind of thing. So for once, Peyton was as hopeful about Kensie’s prospect as Kensie was.

  “But if not Kyle, I will gladly take Connor. You girls can go for any of the others but I claim those two boys,” Poppy said seriously, tugging at the neckline of her dress to show more cleavage. Peyton and Kensie exchanged looks as the others began protesting about the fairness of claiming the two hottest men on the trip. But after a couple mimosas, they forgot about it, instead turning their attentions to laying out on the balcony and betting over which of the men was probably most well endowed – though Connor was eventually eliminated from the pool for being unfair competition.

  “Did I hear someone say competition?” a voice suddenly rang out from inside the house. The girls all jumped, turning to see one of the assistants draped in luggage and holding two T-shirts.

  “Oh! Hi,” Kensie blinked. “We didn’t even hear you guys get in. Where are the rest of the guys?”

  “They’re outside watching Connor and Kyle.”

  Kensie squinted. “Why?”

  “Kyle’s pissed about ranking under Connor on that Forbes’ list so he challenged him to a race. They jumped off the boat like, a hundred meters out. They’re swimming to shore right now.”