King of Her Desire

40

Jacey--I Googled the title of a song someone told me about and saw how to spell that—came and sat on my legs with this little tipsy smile on her face.

They were sipping and smoking in the house somewhere. I think there were some other pretty potent party favors in there, too, right on the table full of all kinds of munchies in the living room.

So the entourage and a few other invited guests were sprawled over chairs and couches in there having trippy conversations and laughing their asses off at basically almost anything anybody said out loud.

But I was lounging in a deck chair on the insane terrace of that house—you remember Remy's house, right? How it sits on the edge of a cliff in the Hollywood hills?

Scared me shitless, but I couldn't resist the view. And I think I just liked that little hint of danger, too. I have a little macho in me, though I try to repress it as much as possible.

"You only drink, right?" Jacey asked me.

And I noticed that in the sunlight I could see a few crow's feet already, at the edges of her eyes and mouth. So she was older than I thought, maybe. Not by much, but still...

"I smoke a little," I told her. "Used to do a lot more once, but...some stuff went down in my family..."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but I'm not tryin'a tell anybody else what to do. I kinda miss it sometimes. I just can't really let loose myself right now."

She stretched, yawned, and then smiled again and said, "Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are? At all?"

Which made me laugh and shrug and say, "I guess."

"It takes me two hours to put this face on, almost. And there you are with your bare face hangin' out—God, I hate you!"

"Oh, tell me about it," Remy said, coming back out to sit in the chair to my left. "And you know how they style his hair? They let him just bend over and shake it 'til it looks even thicker. That's it! A sheepdog shake and off to the set. I mean..."

Toby came out and sat on her left side, swigging some kind of liquor from the bottle again. And he said, "Women love to bitch about what guys don't have to do."

"Because it sucks," Remy said. "You put a guy in heels, his legs look better than ours, too."

Jacey slapped my leg and said, "Word! No thunder thighs."

"It's nature!" Toby told them. "The males of alla species are kinda more tricked-out than the women. Look at any type of bird! The males are all colorful and the females are just grey or brown or whatever. Lions have big ass manes. Male deers have giant antlers."

Remy gave a little snort and said, "Who are you, Bill Nye the Science Guy now?"

And while she and Jacey were both cracking up, Toby swigged, looked over at me and said, "You're all over the place, man! I can't believe you don't even have an Instagram account at least."

"Abra and those guys just put something up, I think," I said.

"But you don't even look at it, right?"

"I mean, it's mostly them quoting things I said or posting videos of me doing stupid shit on the set or something. Or dancing or...eating, even, sometimes. When we're joking around over lunch and whatnot. She's constantly pointing that cell at me."