Attracting Aubrey

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Attracting Aubrey Page 4

by Avery Flynn

Kendall chuckled. "That's being friends with Aubrey."

  "You have no proof it was me," Aubrey said, with a gasp that would have gotten her kicked out of any casting call.

  "Just a long track record of shenanigans." Liv clinked her coffee mug against Aubrey's, a huge, conspiratorial smile on her face.

  The byplay between the friends was straight out of a raucous comedy where friends who haven't seen each other in a while do something crazy when they finally see each other again. Kind of like booking a singles cruise. Hello, life imitating art.

  "Oh really," he said, relaxing back against the seat and draping his arm over the back so his fingertips almost but not quite brushed Aubrey's shoulders. "She's a troublemaker?"

  Liv leaned forward, planting her forearms on the table. "You wouldn't believe some of the things she got up to in college."

  Oh, this should be good. "Try me."

  A faint blush climbed up Aubrey's face until even the tip of her nose had a splotch of red on it. "You don't wanna hear these boring stories."

  "Boring?" Benjamin said, his voice cracking in disbelief. "You're the reason why I started putting aside money for bail."

  "That was only one time," Aubrey said as she sank back against the seat, the move bringing her shoulder into contact with his fingers.

  The little buzz of awareness from something as small as that made him tense enough that he forgot to respond with a follow-up question that was desperately needed. Her friends, however, were already in storytelling mode and nothing was going to stop them.

  "She went toe-to-toe with the local animal control agent who was trying to catch one of the cats that hung around our dorm," Grace said.

  Everyone at the table—including Aubrey—started laughing at the shared memory.

  "The charge was disturbing the peace," Kendall said between giggles. "AKA Aubrey has a big mouth and always jumps right into trouble with both feet without considering other options first."

  "All of that is true," Aubrey said. "However, Wilfred Kitty didn't end up going to the kill shelter."

  "And, of course there were the dates." Liv looked around at everyone else at the table as she took a bite of her breakfast. "What was that one guy's name?"

  All of them groaned in unison.

  "Chad," Aubrey said, her nose wrinkling with disgust.

  Grace made a gagging noise. "That guy was the worst."

  "He was convinced that Aubrey wanted to date him but she just didn't realize it yet," Benjamin said.

  "Meanwhile our girl was already balancing at least three guys at a time," Kendall filled in. "There was no way she'd have time for a loser like Chad."

  Now that he could picture. Aubrey definitely had the up-for-anything vibe. "No settling down for you?"

  She shrugged. "Super serious relationships really aren't my thing."

  "What is?" The question slipped out, violating his usual rule not to dig into people's private lives. With his own so completely under a paparazzi microscope, he'd learned to give others more space than the public allotted him.

  If she was taken aback by the question, Aubrey didn't show it. She just tucked a few strands of her honey blonde hair behind an ear, revealing a line of piercings that went all the way up her earlobe.

  "Sleeping in, chocolate covered cherries, and driving by pastures and saying ‘look, horses’ even if I'm by myself." She raised an eyebrow in challenge. "How about you?"

  Fuck. He shouldn't respond to that tossed down gauntlet. But sitting this close to her in this half circle booth table, he couldn't help it. Sometimes when he was reading a script, he could tell by the end of the first scene if there was something special about it—a gut feeling that he couldn't explain or name. That feeling was buzzing through him as he sat in the middle of the crowded dining room and under the watchful gaze of Aubrey's friends. Fuck. If he didn't watch it, he'd forget the real point of being on this cruise—the one that had to do with the next stage of his career and not the next pair of legs he was getting between.

  Still, instead of shutting it all down and deflecting back to her wild college days, he answered with the truth. "Watching the sunrise, fresh baked whole grain bread, and riding horses."

  Across the table, Liv cleared her throat. "If only you two weren't eye-fucking each other over mini croissants and coffee we'd all be convinced you two aren't attracted to each other at all."

  Startled, he flinched back, putting some space between him and Aubrey. Shit. How had they gotten that close together that his thigh was plastered against hers? That wasn't good. He had to keep his wits about him if he was going to make it through this cruise with his real identity under wraps.

  Aubrey snorted and started fidgeting with the corner of her napkin. "He's friends with my brother and I'm not looking."

  "So why are you on a singles cruise?" And why do you keep asking questions, Hayes?

  She lifted her coffee mug and toasted the other people at their table. "To hang out with four of my favorite people in the world who I rarely get to see anymore." She turned back to him, her gaze going a little hazy when the move brought their legs back into contact. "Why are you here?"

  "Get a feel for what life is like away from the soybean fields and Buckeyes." That was the line he'd practiced repeatedly when he'd come up with this plan.

  "So you're not looking for happily ever after?"

  He shrugged. "My career is the only thing I'm concerned about having a happy ending."

  And if he didn't stay at the top of his game, he wouldn't have one much longer. No place loved to spit out talent like Hollywood where there was always someone new waiting to take the lead. That's why this transition mattered so much. It was difference between a short stint as a superhero or a lifetime career. There was no in between.

  "The workaholic and the rule breaker," Benjamin said before turning to face Kendall, Liv, and Grace. "Are we laying down odds yet for this?"

  "That's a sucker bet," Liv said. "There's no way our girl has changed into the settled down, up early, in bed by ten life of domesticity."

  "Well, I hate to suck all the joy out of y'all giving me shit," Aubrey said with a good-natured chuckle. "But Carter here has agreed to be my platonic plus one during the cruise." She snuggled in against him. "So I'll be nothing but good. Y'all will be the bad ones this time."

  Liv lifted an eyebrow. "Now that really will be a first."

  "Come on, ladies," Benjamin said, standing up. "We have a group massage scheduled followed by poolside piña coladas."

  At the mention of massages and pools (translation: wearing only a towel or bikini), Carter's brain immediately took a sharp left turn to replay his Aubrey's naked fantasy from last night and getting up from the booth so she could slide out and join her friends became a little more fraught. Shit. Maybe he had been paying too much attention to work lately and not enough play. Having sex with someone under a false identity, though, wasn’t something he was gonna do.

  Of course, not everyone on board was in the dark about who he really was. He watched Aubrey as she strutted out of the dining room, his mind already spinning the possibilities that he most definitely shouldn’t follow up on.

  Five

  There was nothing like giggles with her friends while drinking piña coladas by the pool to sand off the edges of the lingering reality of Aubrey's day-to-day life. Muscles loose, brain at ease, she walked out onto the balcony of her room to take in the breeze and the great wide swath of blue ocean that seemed to go on forever. A woman could get used to this life.

  She sat down in the cushioned chair, extended her legs, and rested her feet on the railing. With opaque barriers that blocked off her balcony from the ones on either side of her, it was like having the ocean all to herself. Too high up to feel any splash from the water, it was still pretty indulgent in a way that getting up at three in the morning to make the donuts wasn't.

  "I'll tell you one more thing," Carter said, his tone harsh with barely restrained fury as his voice carried over from his
balcony to hers. "If you even think about crossing me, you'll regret it. I'll make sure of it. Remember what happened to Ricki? That was no accident."

  The words were so cold, the intention so deadly, that hearing them was like having ice water spilled down her spine. Aubrey straightened in her chair so fast her feet hit the balcony floor with a thunk. Who in the hell is Ricki? What accident? Who is Carter threatening?

  "What I'll do to you will be worse than you living your pitifully boring life can even imagine," he said, a dangerous rumble bringing an extra level of ferociousness to his words. "Even your dentist won't be able to identify the body—if they ever find it. Got that?"

  Holy shit. Whatever was going on, it wasn't good. Not even close. The sound of Carter's footsteps as he walked out onto his balcony sent her pulse spiking for all of the don't-get-murdered-for-overhearing reasons. Getting up as quietly as possible, she held her breath and reached for the door, praying it wouldn't make any noise so she could escape without notice.

  "Glad you finally understand, asshole," he said, punctuating the statement with an unhinged laugh. "Fuck. That's not it."

  Her palms sweaty, Aubrey pulled on the handle to slide the door open and nearly groaned out loud when it got stuck about two inches shy of her being able to squeeze through.

  "Glad you finally understand, asshole," Carter said with an unnerving friendliness before letting out a frustrated huff. "Nah."

  Giving it her all, Aubrey shoved the door.

  "Glad you finally understand, asshole," he yelled as something hard slammed up against the barrier between their balconies.

  Aubrey yelped and sprinted inside her room, yanking the door shut, locking it, and closing the curtains tight enough that it looked like dusk in her room. With her back pressed against the wall she tried to get her panicked breathing under control. What in the hell had just happened? What kind of nasty, scary shit was Carter into?

  The knock on the door connecting their rooms was just barely louder than the blood rushing in her ears.

  "Aubrey," Carter said through the door. "I'm sorry if I scared you. I was just running some lines."

  She let it a breath because that actually made more sense than Carter being the kind of guy to put a hit on someone. He did collect spoons from every place he shot a movie, like some sort of grandpa—albeit one with washboard abs and an ass made for bouncing quarters off of. And yeah, she only knew that because of her internet stalking. Come on, she needed a happy place that didn't involve bear claws.

  "Open up." He tapped on the door again. "I'll show you the script."

  "Isn't that just what a serial killer would say?" Of course, that line lost some punch since she said it while walking across her stateroom to the connecting door.

  When she opened it, he was standing on the other side in—Lord, have mercy—long hung swim trunks and hotness.

  He held up a tablet with a script on it. "Henrique isn't a serial killer, he's a man pushed beyond any ability to realize how far he's gone. He's broken."

  Kinda like her brain right now. All of the signals it was sending were of the can-I-lick-you-right-there variety. Fuck. She was such an asshole—a totally horny, oh my God those piña coladas had been a bad idea asshole. A very good bad idea.

  Keep it together, Aubrey. You are more than just a sensitive clit and hormones.

  "You wanna run lines with me?" Carter asked. "If you don't have better things to do."

  "Yes." How she managed to get the single word out without squealing she had no idea.

  "Exactly." He shifted and the muscle twitch in his jaw went into overdrive. "You're here with your friends. Go have fun. Don't let me interfere with your plans."

  Plans? What pla—

  Jesus, Aubrey. Get it together,

  She shook her head trying her best to focus on the man and not just the abs. "I mean, I don't have any plans right now and running lines sounds fun."

  "Here." He held out the tablet to her. 'I have it memorized, you can use this."

  She took the tablet, her fingers brushing his in the exchange, the small touch enough to make her catch her breath. Damn, girl, you’re on a singles cruise and you’ve got to go get laid before you throw yourself at this poor man.

  Not sure where to look without ogling him, she took the safe route and focused on the screen as she walked into his room. "What page?"

  "Just pick one with the yellow highlights." Carter rolled his shoulders, stretched his neck from side to side, and changed his posture on a breath. "All of those are the scenes with the hit woman."

  Watching out of the corner of her eye as he transformed before her, becoming somehow more hulking and brooding, she scrolled through the script. The pages flew across the screen before she stopped on the third section she saw with yellow highlight. Anna had to be the hit woman.

  "So show me what you got," Aubrey read.

  The muscle in Carter's jaw twitched and he rubbed the back of his neck, the intensity lessening a few notches. "Maybe not that scene."

  "Why not?" She double checked. Yep, definitely yellow highlight.

  "There's kissing." He rubbed his palm across his buzzed-short hair. "I didn't ask you to put you in a weird position or make you uncomfortable. I wouldn't do that."

  Alright, that was pretty standup of him and she didn't doubt him.

  She shrugged. "We'll skip the kissing then." She glanced back down at the script, surprised she could still make sense of the words because all she could think about now was the kissing parts. "So show me what you got."

  He let out a breath, changing the way he held himself, eyes going darker, harder. "What do you need?"

  "You gotta nine?" She looked up at him, pausing a beat. "I hear it's your trademark."

  Oh my God, that line. Sure, there was a script note that they were talking about a nine millimeter but that was not a subtle bit of dialogue there. A giggle at the ridiculousness bubbled up inside her, but she fought it off. Then, Carter took three steps closer, cutting the distance between them, a cocky smirk curling his mouth and doing things to her panties.

  He winked. "That's what they say."

  Anticipation, light and feathery, brushed across her skin as she looked down at the next line. "Let me see."

  Guns, she reminded herself. They were talking about the weapons of their trade.

  Carter strutted over, every step an invitation for trouble. "This is a mutual show and tell."

  Aubrey gulped, digging deep to find the badass inside. "You go first."

  He let out a soft chuckle. No, that didn’t even do it justice, it was more of a touch in sound form, tactile and teasing in just the right ways.

  Fuck. That wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t be this good at this because while her mind knew this was play, her body had other ideas—all of which centered around putting that mouth of his to use in ways that didn’t involve talking.

  He brushed a stray hair behind her ear, letting his fingers trace the curve of her ear as her nipples puckered against her bikini top.

  "Darlin’,” he said, his voice a rumble of heady promises. “I believe in letting the ladies finish before I do."

  Yes, please. No wait. That wasn’t the line. That was an actual thought, prayer, whatever. God, she needed to get laid. She glanced down, got her next line, and what would not be happening that.

  "Don't you just have all the answers,” she said, her voice breathy as she lifted her chin and moved forward so they were practically touching.

  "Not all of them.” He shifted, plucked the tablet from her hand, setting it down on the tiny desk in the room, and then pressed both of his hands to the wall on either side of her. Dipping his head lower so they were so close their mouths were practically touching he asked, “Who hired you?"

  Did they pause here? Was she supposed to say “and they kiss?” His gaze dropped to her mouth as she tried to get her brain and her body to do what they were supposed to do when all she wanted was to follow the script. Then, before she realized what she
was doing, her lips were brushing across Carter’s. It was soft and chaste—in other words not nearly enough for what she wanted, needed right now. She wanted hard and demanding and take-me-right here against the wall.

  Breaking the kiss at the realization, the reality of it all hit her. Fuck. They were running lines from a movie script, none of it had been real. He’d been worried about making her uncomfortable and she’d been the one to harass him. Shit, I am so the asshole in this situation.

  "I shouldn’t have done that. I got carried away," she said, pressing her back against the wall and wishing like hell that she could melt into it. “I’m sorry.”

  He kept his hands plastered to the wall but took the half step forward so their bodies were touching. "I'm not."

  "That's not your next line." Because that’s a brilliant thing to say at the moment when you’re about to explode from anticipation, Aubrey.

  He dipped his head lower, so close, but not nearly enough. "I know."

  Oh hell, this was a bad idea—just the kind she couldn’t follow up on in her small town without everyone knowing by dinner exactly what she’d done. But here on the high seas? She could be that carefree person she’d been back in college. God, she needed that if only for a few days.

  “You want to go off script?” she asked as she trailed her fingertips over the hard planes and defined ridges of his bare chest.

  His hands moved from the wall to her ass and he lifted her up, bringing her against him so that her core was against the hard length of him. “What do you think?”

  Forget thinking. She was done with that until they docked back in New York. So she wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him, nothing nice and sweet about this one. This was all want and craving and need for something more real than that.

  Damn Aubrey felt good rubbing up against him, her full lips on his, her long fingers cupping his face, her smooth legs wrapped around him, and that sweet, hot pussy of hers against his dick. The moment she’d picked that scene he should have told her no way and stuck to it. He thought he’d be able to stand the temptation. What a fucking lucky idiot he was—something he should have realized the minute she’d open that connecting door. Just the sight of her in a light blue bikini top with her nipples poking against the thin material had his blood rushing south. Add the fish tattoo wrapping around her ribs that he immediately wanted to trace as well as the filmy blue wrap tied around her waist his fingers itched to untie and he knew the smart move would be to apologize and close the door between them.

 

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