by Jillian Dodd
“And see?” he asks, pointing again. “That look. He said a mouthful with just a simple look.”
“He did,” I agree.
It’s cute, right? That he can’t quiet down long enough to enjoy what we’re watching?
It’s rare that I settle down to watch a movie, and when I do, I like to be able to concentrate on what’s happening on-screen. That’s not his fault though.
“Just think”—I snuggle in closer to him—“you’ll be that guy one day. Somebody will watch you and look at all the little nuances in your performance and talk about what a genius you are.”
“A genius?” He snorts close to my ear before planting a tiny kiss there. “I doubt it.”
“I don’t. I think you have what it takes. I really do.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“Hey. I’m not.” I have to crane my neck to get a good look at him, but I manage. “You’re going to be a big star. I feel it in my bones. And I’ll be cheering you on.”
That earns me a kiss.
“I believe you would too.”
“It’s what I’m here for,” I remind him, and he wraps me up tighter and nuzzles my neck. Hmm, I could go on like this forever so long as I keep getting smooched on. I close my eyes, sinking into the pleasant sensation of Rafe nibbling on my neck …
“Oh, this is my favorite part.”
My eyes open.
Would it be wrong to growl? Or pout? Yeah, I guess it would.
“I didn’t know you’d already seen this. You should’ve said something. I wouldn’t have made you watch it again.”
“Nah, I love it. I’d watch it a million more times,” he assures me.
A million more times? This implies that he’s already seen it a million times. I guess he gets slightly obsessed when he finds a performance worth interrupting what could turn into a hot-and-heavy make-out session … or more.
“Okay. So long as you’re not bored,” I sigh.
“Not at all.” He inches closer, draping one leg over both of mine. “How could I be bored right now? With you all pressed up against me, making it tough to concentrate on anything else.”
“Who’s asking you to concentrate on anything else?” I ask, craning my neck again so I can see him. “There’s not gonna be a quiz after the movie, you know.”
One of his hands somehow finds my breast, which is not a bad thing, and his eyes narrow. “Good. I can relax and get to know you better.”
“I wish you would,” I whisper.
I really, really wish he would. Like, I’m dying over here. It’s sweet torture, being in his arms with so much clothing between us when I’ve been lost in lust ever since the second I laid eyes on him.
He lowers his head, meeting my lips, and I could cry with joy.
Until …
“Oh, hang on. I love this scene.” He nods to the screen, and now, I want to scream with disappointment.
How many times can he brush me off before I start to wonder if I’m the problem?
Just when I’m ready to give up hope of ever getting into his pants, there’s a buzzing between us.
He slides his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Shit. It’s Bill.”
In a flash, he’s sitting up while I lean over to pause the movie.
“Hey, Bill. What’s up?” He’s rattled. He’s so rattled, the poor thing.
I know without being told that he’s terrified this is going to be bad news. That he lost the audition or something like that.
As it turns out, the opposite is true. I can hear Bill loud and clear from my position right next to Rafe.
“They’re moving your audition up to tomorrow, kid. We need to be on a plane in three hours.”
“What?” He bolts up from the sofa, and I join him.
My heart’s racing like I’m the one whose entire future rests on this audition.
“You’d better get moving. I’ll pick you up in an hour, so we have time to get through security.”
Rafe ends the call with shaking hands. “Um … wow. Okay.”
I loop my arms around his waist and squeeze tight. “You’ve got this. I know you’ve got this. And it’s a good thing, right? Now, you don’t have to wait a whole extra week. It would have been unbearable if you’d had to keep waiting and wondering. Now, you can get it over with. I know you’ll be fantastic.”
“I wish you could come with me and remind me of that before I go in,” he admits before turning away from me to find his shoes. “God, I have to hurry. I can’t believe he called and dropped that on me this way.”
“I’m sure it’s just as much a surprise for him as it is for you.” I get his coat, and it occurs to me that my hands are shaking too. I’m just as nervous for him as he is. But he needs me to be confident, to bolster him, right?
“I’m not ready.”
“You are. You know you are. I know you are. You’re gonna kill this.”
He puts on the coat, looking dazed, and all I can do is stand on my tiptoes to give him a kiss.
“You’ll do great. Break a leg and all that. Or is that only for shows and not auditions?”
A real, true smile breaks through his mask of worry. “It doesn’t matter. Knowing you care that much is all I need. Thank you.” He wraps me in one big, tight hug and whispers in my ear, “And don’t think I wasn’t planning on taking you into the bedroom and tearing your clothes off. I was trying to be a gentleman.”
Oh, how my heart sinks, but I think I manage to cover well. “When you get back,” I growl, nipping his earlobe. “I might look like a nice girl, but I don’t always want a gentleman.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” With one quick kiss, he’s gone, on his way down the hall.
“Keep me posted, please!” I call out with my heart in my throat.
He’s got this. I know he’s got this.
But what if he doesn’t? I can only imagine how devastated he’d be if he didn’t get this role. After having read that tiny bit of the script, I have to wonder if it’s even worth the effort, but it means the world to him.
And I can’t be a snob like that. Haven’t I already been hurt by snobs who didn’t think my writing was any good because of my genre? It would make me a hypocrite to belittle anyone else’s efforts.
I glance down at myself after closing the door. “Well, at least I looked nice.” Not that it got me anywhere.
How did Rafe ever get the idea that I wanted a gentleman? I mean, sure, that’s great and everything. I wouldn’t want to date a creep or a toxic alpha or what have you.
But for heaven’s sake, a little time in bed wouldn’t kill anybody.
Might as well take all my sexual frustration and pour it into my book. I close the movie since, to be honest, I didn’t pick up on half of it between Rafe’s constant interruptions and my general horniness, and I open my manuscript.
Things are going well for my hero and heroine at the moment. He scored a fantastic audition on the other side of the country—yes, yes, I know, stealing from real life—and she’s joining him to offer support.
But things won’t be so happy and cheerful soon because he’s going to have his head turned by people courting him, trying to convince him to live the decadent Hollywood life.
Does that actually happen? I don’t know. Maybe. Rafe might be able to offer insight when he comes back.
This is the point where the bonds my characters have created are tested. In their world, stupid distractions don’t happen. They don’t get interrupted by golden retrievers and phone calls. Wouldn’t that be nice? They’ve had the opportunity to get to know each other on a physical level as well as an emotional one.
Rafe and I will have that chance. I’m sure of it.
Even though I can’t help but wonder what will happen if he gets that movie.
Or if he doesn’t.
Nothing like writing a graphic sex scene to forget one’s troubles.
“Here we go,” I murmur before launching into a scene in their hotel room.
/> Because writing about sex is just as good as actually having it, right?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I really wish Rafe would call. Or at least text.
The last thing I heard from him was his relief at making it to LA in one piece after the whirlwind he was on yesterday. And how he hoped he’d remembered to pack underwear. I reminded him they sold underwear in California.
Since then, radio silence. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe Bill’s introducing him to all sorts of people. He’s probably being courted by the producers of this movie, as gorgeous and charming as he is. I’m sure the second they set eyes on him, dollar signs started flashing in their minds.
And that’s not just me being biased. Anybody with half a brain would jump on the chance to sign him to a movie. He’d look fantastic on a billboard.
Even if he’s dressed like an old-timey vampire, I guess.
It’s practically impossible for me to get any work done when I can’t stop thinking about him though. My apartment’s already clean as a whistle, so I can’t distract myself with that. I don’t have enough laundry to necessitate running a load. I could rearrange the books on my shelves, but I sort of like the way I have them right now—organized and separated by color, then by genre, and finally by author.
And it’s raining and miserable outside, so going for a walk is out. It doesn’t have to be out, but I’ve never understood why people wax romantic about walking in the rain. Who wants to walk around with their shoes all squishy?
I can’t meet up with Hayley, and I still don’t know what I’m going to do about that situation.
There’s music coming from Matt’s—just loud enough that I know it’s playing, but not so loud that I know what he’s listening to. I’m still a little miffed at him after that performance he gave yesterday—something I tried like heck to put out of my mind while Rafe was with me.
Now, there’s nothing for me to do but stew over his attitude. I have half a mind to go across the hall and bang on his door, but it’s only early afternoon now. He might still be working. I’m not completely thoughtless … the way he thinks I am.
What a freaking dick.
And the nerve of him! Telling me Hayley didn’t mean the things she said when we fought. Then turning on me and telling me I never think. What is that supposed to mean?
Nobody asked him to be my protector. At least, I know I didn’t. What is going on with him? With Hayley? I’m not the person they’re accusing me of. I need to get to the bottom of this.
When my phone rings, I practically jump on top of it like it’s a grenade about to go off and I’m trying to save the lives of the people around me. Only there’s no one around me.
And it isn’t Rafe either.
But I’m just as breathless when I answer, as I would be if he were the one calling.
“Kitty?” Hayley sniffs. “I need you.”
I’m on my way in a flash because it doesn’t matter that we had a fight and haven’t spoken since. My best friend needs me. I couldn’t imagine holding a grudge right now.
Besides, I miss her. I’m glad she even thought to call me.
When I arrive at her place with a bag of liquor in one hand and a bag of junk food in the other, she’s just as much of a mess as she sounded on the phone. She goes right to the couch after opening the door for me and burrows under a blanket. There’s a box of tissues next to her, half-empty, and the balled-up tissues and chocolate wrappers around her tell me this is a serious situation.
I leave the bags for the moment in favor of joining her once my wet coat is off. “What happened?” I ask, sitting near her. When I’m up close, it’s clear she’s been crying for a while. I doubt anybody who knows her only as the dazzling, polished superstar would recognize her if they met her on the street in this condition.
“It was all wrong. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway. Maybe I was desperate to distract myself from the pressure. I don’t know.” She blows her nose, crying softly.
“I don’t understand. What are you talking about, sweetie?”
“Tom,” she blurts out before shooting me a guilty look. “My boss.”
Oh. I sort of guessed it had to do with that, but the confirmation of my suspicions doesn’t make me feel good. “I’m sorry. Oh no. Did you get caught?” There’s a sick feeling in my stomach at the very thought.
She’s worked so hard. Much too hard for things to go south like this.
She blows her nose again, and jeez Louise, I just want an answer. I’m dying over here.
Finally, she shakes her head, and I let out the breath I was holding.
“No,” she manages in spite of her clogged nose, “I didn’t get caught. But he did.”
“Okay.” Still not good. “He won’t name names, will he? Can you trust him?”
She lets out a tiny whimper, shaking her head again. “You don’t understand. He got caught with another one of the associates in my department.”
“That son of a bitch.”
“Can you believe it? He wasn’t only sleeping with me. He was sleeping with Amber too. Amber! Seriously, what?”
I don’t know Amber, but I’m guessing she’s not in Hayley’s league. I mean, who is?
“Clearly, he’s an idiot.”
“Such an idiot.” She twists the latest tissue in her hands, looking down at it while she does so. “I know this is going to sound stupid, but I actually thought … you know.” She lifts a shoulder before her chin starts quivering again.
Which is approximately the time when my heart breaks. I didn’t know she felt that way. I wish she had told me so in the first place instead of jumping down my throat. Now isn’t the time to bring that up, however. Now’s the time to show her I love her and never judged her for the choice she’d made.
“I am so sorry,” I whisper as I pull her in for a hug. “He’s not worth it, sweetie. You can do so much better, and you deserve so much better.”
“What was I thinking?” she sobs. “Jeopardizing my career for him when he only wanted to get laid. That was it. A little fun, a diversion. I thought I was something special.”
“You are something special. Don’t ever forget that. You were special before you ever met that jerk, and you’ll be special for always.” I stroke her hair and maybe shed a tear or two. I’ve never seen her like this in all the years we’ve known each other.
“I’m so sorry for freaking out on you.” Her tears are now soaking into my shirt, but I wouldn’t pull away for anything.
“It’s okay. I get it.”
“It’s not okay.” She lifts her head and blows her nose again. If she doesn’t cool it with that, she’ll end up looking like Rudolph. “I was mean and cruel, and it was all because I knew you would tell me how sketchy it was for me to sleep with Tom. I knew it was wrong, but I went ahead with it. So, I tried to keep it a secret, but that made me feel even worse. I lashed out at you when I really should’ve been lashing out at myself.”
“I get it,” I tell her again, tucking her hair behind her ears with as much of a smile as I can manage while she’s so upset. I can’t help but feel for her—and goodness knows, she’s nursed me through low times before.
“You didn’t deserve it.”
“Eh, sometimes, I can be dramatic and make a big deal out of things, but honestly, I was more hurt that you thought I’d judge you before you even gave me a chance to say anything.”
“I know. I think I was caught up in all of the excitement and didn’t want to face reality. I love you. I really do.”
“I love you too. Let’s not fight again, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And take this whole situation as a reminder that you and all the hard work you’ve done are more important than any man. Ever. I don’t care how hot he is.”
“He isn’t even all that hot.” She buries her face in her hands. “He’s really not. And he wasn’t that good in bed.”
“So …”
“So, why did I s
leep with him?” Her hands fall to her lap as she blows a long sigh through pursed lips. “I don’t know. He’s charming. He’s smart. He made me feel valued—I know; I know. You think I’m awesome. But, Kitty, here’s the thing: I work in a large firm with lots of people who graduated at the top of their classes. I’m a big fish in a pond full of bigger fish. It’s easy to feel like I’m nothing special in the middle of all those fantastic, accomplished people.”
“I never thought about it that way.” I lean against her. She leans against me. “And you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately too. I can imagine how that would make you feel bad.”
“Yeah, that has a lot to do with it too. I can’t wait for next month. This will be over, for better or for worse.”
“For better. I know your firm will win that case. You’ve done a lot of work on it. You’re Hayley, the bright, shining star. You’re brilliant. You wouldn’t work with all those talented people if you weren’t. I’m so proud to be your friend.”
“I feel like such a piece of shit for ever saying those things to you when you’re sweet like that.”
“Good thing I’m not always sweet or else you’d feel bad all the time.”
She giggles, which goes a long way toward making me feel like she’ll be okay. “He lost his job.”
“Good. He deserves it.”
“So did she.” She winces, turning to me. “Isn’t that awful? That could’ve been me.”
“I know, honey, but it wasn’t. You had a close call. You’ll know better next time.”
“I definitely will. I decided to call out sick today to get over it, and then I’m moving on.” She rests her head against my shoulder with a sigh. “What about you? What’s happening with you?”
“Not much.” Nothing that’s happened recently is anything close to what she’s going through.
“I know that’s not true, so don’t even play around. It’s been almost two weeks since I last talked to you. Spill. Take my mind off my misery.”
“Well, Matt’s mad at me. Rafe went to LA at the last minute yesterday for an audition for a movie. I went to a writers group and got laughed at for writing romance.” I shrug. “Same old, same old.”