Page 41 of Sugar (Gilded #1)

Riveting

MADDIE

I was at a Hollywood event.

And it was oddly underwhelming and miserable.

Those were probably the wrong words for it, but the vibes were definitely off. Or maybe that was just the way it went. It wasn’t like I had anything to compare it to. But I’d spent the entire day imagining some glam, magical night, and the pre-party was not living up to my expectations.

Easton had convinced me—or rather ordered me—to skip out on my classes for the day.

Since my grades were shockingly good and my assignments were done, I’d been able to do it without an undercurrent of anxiety.

After sleeping in, he’d sent me to the spa for another massage, that time followed by hair and makeup.

It didn’t matter what age a girl was, playing dress-up like a princess never got old.

And that was just how I felt. Like a fairy princess.

The front of my hair had been twisted away from my face, but the rest had been left down in a voluminous tumble I would never be able to recreate, no matter how many tools and products I bought. Each stroke of my immaculate makeup had been perfectly placed to look like I was wearing none at all.

Well, except my eyes.

The artist—and I meant that in every sense of the word—had gone heavy on the mascara and wispy false lashes to make my blue eyes look huge and striking.

Because Easton was on Tripp duty for the entire day, Vic had picked me up and taken me to the theater. It was probably just as well.

I got the feeling that if it had been Easton, we wouldn’t have made it out of my apartment.

Standing in the opulent theater lobby, I scanned the crowd in search of my date. I’d let him know I was there, but I doubted he was checking his phone. I knew he would be in there soon since more of the cast had begun filing in from the red carpet.

I’d thought their appearance would change the vibe of the room.

It hadn’t.

At least, not for the better.

The assistants and support people who were relegated to the perimeter of the room fell into one of three categories.

Bitterly resentful as they carefully made snide comments.

Neurotically anxious as they watched their person with the same anticipation of a chihuahua waiting to be smacked with a rolled newspaper.

Or an odd blend of sycophantic and egotistical, as if they were included in the stars and not separated out.

The celebrities themselves weren’t much better. Unless a camera was aimed at them, they weren’t smiling. They weren’t excited to be there. I was sure it was exhausting to be on for any length of time, but their expressions fell to unbridled misery the moment they could get away with it.

Except—I was pleased to note—Tripp.

Even once he was away from the incessant camera flashes, his smile stayed in place. If anything, it grew. He took in the room with the same wonder I felt before he spun to walk backward in order to speak to the people who followed him.

One of which being my incredibly attractive date.

Wow.

Easton might’ve come through the roped off area for staff, but he could’ve easily walked the red carpet and no one would’ve thought him out of place.

His black suit and shirt combo was classic yet cool, and he screamed power and influence in an effortless way that some of the actors were working hard at.

And failing to achieve.

As soon as he crossed the threshold of the room—one packed with some of the most beautiful people in the world—his eyes scanned the space. They didn’t stop until they landed on me. A smile began to form before his eyes dropped to slowly scan me.

Even from a distance, I could feel the searing heat of them.

His long strides ate up the distance as he stalked toward me, though I didn’t make him go the entire way. I was just as eager to get to him. As soon as I was within reach, I was in his arms and his mouth was on mine.

He kept it brief, though the frustrated curse he muttered made it obvious that wasn’t how he wanted it to go. “Christ, you look… Wow .”

“I was just thinking the same about you.” I grinned up at him, and his eyes zeroed in on my mouth.

“Okay, time to go.”

I laughed, though we both knew he wasn’t joking. Not really.

Thankfully—or not—Tripp chose that moment to join us. He kissed my cheek and attempted as much of a hug as he could get.

Which honestly wasn’t much since Easton kept me locked in his possessive hold with his arm around my waist and his hand splayed on my stomach.

And his hard-on pressed to my back.

Tripp seemed to find Easton’s greediness peak entertainment, and he chuckled as he gestured to me. “Maddie, an absolute vision.”

“Thank you.”

He barely lifted his arm when a tuxedoed server arrived with a silver tray. He plucked a flute of champagne off.

“Tripp,” Easton started, but it was unnecessary.

The champagne was handed to me before the actor grabbed one of the water bottles for himself.

I wasn’t sure how the added bubbles would sit in my nervous stomach, so I just kept hold of the glass and pretended to not feel out of place.

And pretended not to see the way some of the assistants were hardcore glaring at me.

Ohhhkay then.

“You should’ve been one of the interviewers out there,” Tripp said as he touched his water bottle to my glass. “I bet your questions would be better than what’s my best pickup line and what’s my most cringe first-date.”

“But those are the vital questions the world needs to know,” I said. “At least, the ones that’ll get clicks.” I took a dramatic pause. “But what is your best pickup line?”

He raised a brow. “Hey, I’m Tripp Carter.”

That would do it.

Not for me, but for most women.

After a few minutes, a young guy from Tripp’s team rushed from one side of the room to us. “They want you to head to your seats.”

“You heard the man,” Tripp said, using his water bottle to point to a set of doors that led into the theater.

When I remained still since we were supposed to watch the movie from the balcony level, Easton lowered his head near my ear. “Change of plans. Tripp wants us to sit with him.”

“What? Why ?”

The other man answered for himself. “I want to see your reaction. I know the assholes involved will like it. Or like seeing themselves on the screen. But Easton said you’re a movie buff.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but it came out as a nonsensical squeak.

Easton stooped to whisper in my ear again. “Think of your story.” His lips skimmed my neck quickly. “And I’ll make it up to you later.”

I didn’t need the incentive, but I wasn’t stupid enough to decline it.

Let’s hope the movie isn’t a bomb, or this is going to get super awkward.

My hope wasn’t needed.

The movie wasn’t just passably good.

It was amazing and perfectly cast, but Tripp was the standout by a long mile.

The easily charming man seemed to put his own personality on display in his portrayal of an easily charming ex-boyfriend.

It was believable to see why the film’s heroine would be torn between him and her current boyfriend played by Chase Majors.

Both actors made for compelling love interests.

That alone would’ve been a great—if slightly clichéd—love triangle romance, but partway through, the film changed.

He changed.

His sweet facade had fallen away to reveal a captivatingly damaged interior. It’d been disconcerting to see how flawlessly Tripp embodied a complete psycho stalker. It was even more jarring to watch it while seated right next to him.

He’d been so convincing, I was mildly freaked out by him. But it was a sign of his skill and likability because I’d been disappointed when the heroine hadn’t chosen him.

Or maybe that was an indication of me being messed up.

Either way, my genuine reactions were what Tripp had been looking for.

After his obligatory hoopla, all he’d wanted to do was talk to me and Easton about the movie and our thoughts.

There was nothing aloof or calm, cool, and collected about his love for it.

He wasn’t acting like it was just another day.

That’d changed the longer the after-party carried on. He seemed bored and restless.

He wasn’t the only one.

“The minute we get home…” Easton paused to tug me from the booth bench onto his lap. His fingertips skimmed up my inner thighs, dragging the fabric with them. “I am going to lift this pretty skirt and bury my dick in your perfect pussy.”

For a second, I thought his hands might keep going. I thought he might fuck me, right then and there.

And after a night of his frequent touches and filthy words, I thought I might let him, too.

But just before his fingers reached where I needed them most, he shifted me off to sit on the other side of him so he could climb from the booth. “But first, I need to get my friend out of here before he gets in trouble.”

“I think that’s a good idea. All of it.”

He dipped down to kiss me quickly. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” He stood upright and remained in front of me as he discreetly readjusted himself as one last added tease. When I lifted my eyes to his, he gave me an arrogant smirk to make it clear he’d caught me checking him out.

I’ll never learn that lesson.

As he took off to the bar, I stood and made my way in the opposite direction toward the bathroom. I was on my way back to the table when someone caught my wrist.

And not the someone I wanted it to be.

Instead of Easton, it was Chase Majors who’d reached out from his spot at a corner booth to halt me. “I’ve been racking my brain, but I can’t seem to place who you are. Were you an extra?”

I shook my head. “I’m a friend of Tripp’s. The movie was amazing. Congrats.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with no flair of pride like Tripp. “Sit with me.”

“No, thanks.”

“What’re you drinking?” he asked automatically, like my acceptance was a foregone conclusion in his head. “Wait, what’d you say?”

I forced a polite smile. “I’m heading out. Enjoy your night.”

I tried to dislodge his hold, but rather than releasing me, he acted like my movement had tugged him to stand.

“It’s too early to leave. One drink.”

“I’m set.”

Standing closer, his gaze slowly traveled down my body. The sharp sting of alcohol wafted from his breath. “Yeah, I knew I would’ve remembered you. You should be in movies, though. I can help with that. Make some calls for you.”

“I’m not interested,” I said.

“Everyone wants to be in a movie, gorgeous,” he accused like I was lying. “One glass of champagne. A celebratory toast.”

“Like I said, I’m leaving.”

He tilted his head. “With that old guy?”

I reared back. “Excuse me?”

He didn’t catch the warning in my tone. His own was filled with bitterness. “What’s with that? First, they had me competing with Tripp fucking Carter on screen. Who the hell is going to buy that any woman in their right mind would be torn between me and him?”

Correct. Because stalker or not, I thought Cassandra should’ve chosen him .

“Then I’ve been watching you all night, wondering when you’d make your way over to me. I thought you finally worked up your nerve, but now you’re shooting down a drink with me to leave with him ?” His incredulousness showed that not only was he entitled and rude, he was also stupid.

Very, very stupid.

He somehow still managed to double down on it. “Why are you even here with the old guy?” There was a brief pause, and a calculating look came into his glossy eyes. “Is he someone important?”

I stopped trying to be discreet and yanked my arm from him. I didn’t bother to respond—it would be a waste of energy and brain cells—as I spun away.

And then froze.

Easton stood close, his gaze dark and intense as he watched.

Listened .

Because I hadn’t turned to catch his approach. He’d been standing there.

I wasn’t sure for how long or how much he’d overheard, but I got the feeling it was enough when his glare cut to Chase Majors.

Uh oh.

I moved quickly before either man opened their mouth to turn an awkward situation into a disaster. Closing the distance, I put my hand on Easton’s chest and pushed.

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t move. Not even a centimeter.

I lifted onto my toes and snaked my hand to the back of his neck, forcing him to look down at me. “You’ve made some promises that need to be fulfilled.” I lowered my voice until I wasn’t even sure if he could hear me over the noise of the party. “ I need to be filled.”

He must’ve been able to because with one last murderous glare over my head, he wrapped an arm tightly around my shoulders and turned to take me home.

Finally.