Johnny & I : The Island by Daria Paus (hardest books to read txt) 📕

as I stepped out of the black sedan. The street buzzed with activity even though it was well past midnight. I pulled the baseball hat down and covered my eyes with dark sunglasses as I walked next to Marc, following him as he led the way to our favorite restaurant.

Rick and his best mate and colleague, Casey, drifted behind, chatting away as if they’d forgotten they were on the clock. I didn't mind. In fact, I was relieved they weren't on my heels. Marc, however, was the typical bloodhound. He never left my side, and even though he annoyed me most of the time, I felt somewhat normal under his watch. He made sure I could walk the streets without a group of screaming girls flocking around me—and for that I was grateful.

Rounding a corner, I spotted a group of young women; I hesitated, considering turning back. If they recognized me, the word would spread quickly, and I wasn’t up to being tonight’s main attraction. All I wanted was a calm night and a few whiskeys with the guys. Marc’s hand on my back urged me to keep moving. I kept my eyes on the wet asphalt beneath my feet and walked past the group without drawing too much attention to myself.

No one approached me, despite the whispers and curious looks, and as the door of the pub closed behind us, I let out the breath I’d been holding.

Sinking down onto a leather seat at the far corner of the building, I removed my baseball-hat and sunglasses with a sigh of relief.

Rick grinned. "That was close. I was sure they would recognize you."

I rolled my eyes, running a hand through my hair to smooth it down. As always, the dark tangles could never be tamed, and no matter what I did, they kept on falling back into my face. Apparently, women found it sexy, so I let it be.

Casey flopped down next to Rick, while Marc remained standing nearby as he waited for our order.

The waitress dropped the tray when she spotted me. Bottles and glasses flew in all directions, the sound as they hit the floor making me cringe. The whiskey I had hoped to drink splashed all over me, and Rick and Casey burst into a fit of laughter. I managed to shake my head at the mess.

Feeling bad for the girl, and embarrassed for being the cause of her clumsiness, I got up and helped her gather the broken glass. To her credit, she was new. I’d never seen her before. She obviously wasn’t aware of the fact that I visit this bar. All of the regulars had gotten used to seeing me here and no longer reacted like the typical fangirl. That was one of the main reasons I always came back to this place. That, and the excellent varieties of hard liquor.

"I'm so sorry!" she blurted. “I—”

"Don't worry about it."

She stared at me, and I looked down at my wet shirt.

“You’re . . .” She nearly dropped the tray again but managed to hold on to it. "I've seen all your movies," she gushed, her hands shaking as she held the tray. "I love you; you are . . ." She struggled to find the words and I tried to hide from the awkward mess I’d once again found myself in. I was famous, yes, I couldn’t deny that. But even though I loved my job, I had never expected, or even wanted the fame. It just came by default. Sexiest man of the year. Every girl's dream. A-list actor—the titles had been made up by idiots who had no idea what they were talking about.

Hours later I stared into the restroom mirror. Too many whiskeys made it hard to focus and the dark eyes that stared back at me seemed foggy and hollow.

It wasn’t the eyes that women swooned over. The truth was, I couldn’t see what most people claimed to see. I had the features that fell into the right category; straight nose, high cheekbones, and a jawline that could cut paper. To me it was just a jigsaw puzzle of broken pieces that weren’t much to look at. All I saw in the mirror was the little boy no one wanted.

"Hey, sexy.” A familiar voice pulled my attention from the mirror. It was the girl from the beach, standing in front of me, smiling shamelessly. "Missed me?"

I spun on my heels, my eyes widening in disbelief.

Fuck. How could she have managed to sneak past Marc?

"Did you follow me here?" The question was unnecessary, and she grinned back in response.

I turned to leave, but she grabbed my arm. She was all over me before I had a chance to understand what was happening—hands groping, lips seeking mine. My mind spun from too much alcohol, creating incoherent thoughts. I couldn't focus. I knew I should stop her, call for help, maybe. But I felt my body working on autopilot, and against my will, one arm reached around her waist.

"You want me,” she purred into my neck. "I know you do."

I had no energy to fight it anymore. I did.

She ripped my shirt open, scattering the buttons across the floor.

"What the f—”

Her lips shut me up and this time I kissed her back. She pulled away, leaving me gasping for air.

"Do you want more?" She trailed a long fingernail down my chest as she spoke." I can give you the best night of your life. Come with me."

I wanted to. I had nothing to lose. No one waiting for me at home; no one who saw beyond the fame and the money.

"I don't even know your name," I said.

"It's Nancy." Her seductive voice slipped from her lips.

I nodded then, letting my body decide for me. "I’ll come with you, Nancy."

After all, what did I have to lose?

∞∞∞

The sun peeked through the curtains the next morning, and I squinted up at the light. My head pounded like a freight train. Groaning, I rolled over onto my