As for what that was, Amelia wasn’t entirely sure.
After they’d left the park in June, he’d shared her cab back to her hotel—but she hadn’t invited him up. She’d flown out early the next day without seeing him again, and they hadn’t seen each other since. They’d talked, though. A lot. And lately a lot of that talk had centered on the fact that they were about to be together.
And suddenly, here they were.
She tilted her face toward Colin’s. His lips brushed across her forehead, grazed her nose, and then his mouth covered hers.
She moaned at the sheer relief of it. She’d been fantasizing about kissing Colin for what felt like a very long eleven weeks. The few hours they’d spent together in New York had begun to feel like a dream—like he was a mere invention of her mind, another of the written characters whose lives had become so interwoven with her own.
But the man in front of her was no dream, and his mouth moving on hers was the realest thing she’d felt in months. A tingling heat traveled through her body as Colin took a step back and leaned into the built-in desk that filled an entire wall of the room they were in. He pushed a chair out of the way, and it rolled back a few feet. Amelia listened as the casters rumbled over the laminate flooring and then gasped as Colin perched on the edge of the desk and pulled her tight against him.
She forgot the chair, forgot where they were, forgot everything.
His hands were everywhere. He yanked his shirt over his head and her fingers moved across the bare skin of his back. Somewhere deep, buried under the frenzy that had overtaken her senses, she wasn’t sure about this. What was about to happen? Was this what she wanted? Would he remember her name tomorrow?
She didn’t know. She didn’t care. Her breath was hot against his as she lived—for once—gloriously in the moment.
“Amelia.”
He whispered it against her lips as his fingers undid her blouse, her bra, and brushed over her neck, her shoulders. His mouth followed his fingertips, and she pressed her face into his hair, unconscious of anything other than the searing sensation of his tongue against her skin.
A loud tap at the door suddenly ripped her back into awareness. She pulled away from him with a jerk, and his eyes were as wide as hers.
They softened a second later, crinkling at the corners as he chuckled.
“Oops.” He grinned.
She felt the blush spread from the top of her head to the bottom of her toes. But her embarrassment was replaced instantly by panic as her eyes swung toward the doorway.
He tipped her chin toward him, still smiling. “Breathe.” He pointed to a door at the center of the short hallway that separated the room they were in from the private dressing area. “Go in there.”
He leaned down and snagged his light-gray pullover from its disheveled heap on the floor and pulled it on in one swift movement. His face was composed, but his eyes still shone with excitement.
She snatched her shirt from the desktop and dashed in the direction he’d pointed, shutting herself into a small bathroom. Once she was dressed and her breathing had returned to normal, she leaned heavily against the countertop and surveyed her reflection in a gilded, oval mirror that looked out of place against the otherwise Spartan décor.
She shook her head, shocked at the way she’d just let herself go. It wasn’t at all like her, but then again, maybe she should have expected it. She and Colin had spent hours on the phone in the past few months. It had been weird to get to know someone so intimately without a chance to be intimate. They were starving for it. Obviously.
Her cheeks reddened as she thought about where things had been heading out there. Would she have actually gone through with it? Would she have had sex with him on his dressing room desk?
Who am I???
Somebody who was in over her head. Somebody who was trying to act way cooler than the flushed, sweaty bundle of nerves staring back at her in the mirror. She didn’t have a cool bone in her body. What the hell is he even doing with me?
She thought about their conversations from the past few weeks. She’d told him every detail of her small-town upbringing—her close relationship with her brother and grandma and her complicated one with Brooke, her early career and how she’d written her first book in the hours she should have spent sleeping. He’d told her about his tight-knit family, his childhood, his inadvertent path to stardom that had resulted from a joke, a fraternity ploy that had landed him at an audition for a commercial being shot on campus his sophomore year at Southern Cal. It turned out the camera loved him, and so did the would-be agents who’d started calling once the national spot had aired. He was unassuming about it all, a fact that endlessly increased his already endless appeal. He’d been majoring in business, figuring he’d land in a career somewhere in finance, like his dad. But life, it turned out, had other ideas.
She knew all too well how the best-laid plans could change. Her mind flashed over the twists and turns in her own life that had landed her in this moment, with this absurdly charismatic man whom she’d almost just given herself over to with reckless abandon.
She shook her head and then strained to hear the muffled conversation taking place on the other side of the door. She wasn’t sure whether she should walk casually out of the bathroom or hang tight until whoever was there had left. When the new voice in the trailer registered in her head, her eyes popped wide open.
“I talked to some production kid, Rob, I think? He said she was here.”
“Yeah, she is.” Colin’s voice grew louder as he continued, “She’s in the powder room.”
Flustered again, she flushed the toilet and turned on the water. She took one more look at herself in the mirror and smoothed her hands over her hair before replacing the faucet handle, opening the door, and walking out into the hall. She did her best to arrange her features into a surprised expression when she came face to face with Nina, who glanced between her and Colin with a bemused, slightly suspicious gleam in her wide, brown eyes.
“Well, hi!” Amelia avoided a glance at Colin, pretty sure one look at him would destroy her tenuous grip on composure. Her voice was serious. “What are you doing here?”
Nina’s face became businesslike, and Amelia let out the breath she’d been holding.
“I just got an interesting call, and we need to talk.” Nina looked at Colin, apologetic. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
The look that crossed his face at her unassuming comment was priceless, and Amelia bit her lip to keep from smiling.
“No problem,” he said, clearing his throat. “We can get back to this later.” He glanced down at the script Amelia now noticed in his hands and then at her, his expression innocent. He was an actor, after all.
“Great, thanks,” Nina said. She turned to exit through the door she still held open.
Amelia moved toward her and looked over her shoulder at Colin, feeling frustrated and relieved at the same time.
“Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”
He pursed his lips and nodded, and she felt his eyes on her receding back as she followed Nina down the steps and rushed to keep up with her perpetually hurried pace.
Nina slowed then and looked her up and down, and Amelia had a sudden horror that she’d forgotten an important item of clothing. She gave herself a once-over. Shirt, check. Shoes, check. Everything appeared in order. When she looked back at Nina, she was still studying her suspiciously.
“What a coincidence, huh?”
“What’s a coincidence?” Amelia struggled to keep her voice even.
She hadn’t clued Nina in on the fact that she and Colin had seen each other a second time in New York. No one in the world but Reese—not even Brooke—knew about what was happening between them. She thought about what Nina had almost walked in on and how shocked she’d be if she knew…
“Hellooo? Colin. That’s what. You two met in New York, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, we did. It is a pretty crazy coincidence.”
&nbs
p; “Well, he seems like a nice guy.” An edge of sarcasm had crept into Nina’s voice.
“He is.” Amelia’s mind raced to find a new subject. “So you got a call? What’s going on?”
At once, Nina was all business again. She stopped walking and leaned against a column of bricks on the corner of the building Amelia had been sitting in before Colin had paged her.
“There are some plans in the works that I need to run by you. I hate to press you even harder than I already am, but Nick and I had this idea for something that could be really cool.” She peered hard at Amelia. “What do you think about a web convention?”
She chewed her lip and considered it. Nick Edwards, a contract member of the publishing house’s publicity team, was webmaster of the site that provided a centralized hub for the online fan base surrounding her books. The breadth of his work was mind-boggling to her.
“A web convention. That’s different from a physical convention, right? Like not at a convention center? Where would we do it?”
“Yeah, it’s different. We could do it anywhere…Memphis, if you prefer. It’d take place totally online, facilitated through a link from your site. It’d be structured like a physical convention, with you and your fans there at the same time, but with a global reach. There’d be sessions planned for set times, Q&As on different topics, that type of thing. You’d have scheduled times to appear, like any other physical appearance. It’d be a new way for you to interact with your fans. I think they’d love it.”
She gave Amelia a satisfied smile, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
Amelia nodded slowly. “I don’t see why not. You know what’s working, so I’m leaving this up to you. You’ve done an amazing job so far.”
“Thank you. But I’m not fishing for compliments. You’re a pro at this too, and I want your input. You’ve had some great ideas.”
Amelia felt an inner glow at the remark. Nina’s work, though far more specialized, wasn’t all that different from her own PR experience. But Nina moved at lightning speed in a huge, competitive market, and Amelia had complete respect for her expertise. She felt inspired—and a surge of something like homesickness for her old job—every time she got an inside look at Nina’s creative process.
“Well, thanks,” she said. “We both know that’s BS, though. All the great ideas have been yours. And as for this one, sure. I’m completely on board. Just tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it.”
“Perfect. The more we can keep this book in the headlines before the movie comes out, the better.”
Amelia stiffened, her mind moving back to Colin and the dressing room. She knew what would get the books and movie in the headlines—and that had been Nina’s idea, too. But she was damn sure not on board with that one.
She shook off the thought. “Yeah, um. Yeah. Great.”
Nina smiled. “I’ll get Nick right on it.” She gave Amelia another appraising look. “So how are things going? You holding up okay?”
She nodded, her eyes wide. “I’m holding up fine. This is fun.”
“It is pretty cool, huh? Kind of grueling, though. Good thing you’re only here one more day. I know you haven’t had much time for the new book.”
Amelia felt her stomach muscles tighten. She’d barely had ten minutes alone with Colin, and already their time together was more than halfway over. She’d be back on set before filming was finished, but the dates for that hadn’t been scheduled yet. It depended on how things progressed and how much the crew needed her.
She didn’t want to think about leaving the set. She just wanted to think about leaving the spot she was standing in and going back to Colin. A nervous tingle started in her stomach and traveled to her throat.
As Nina lifted her phone to take a call, Amelia mouthed good-bye and turned on her heel to make a quick escape. But before she took the first step, she saw him out of the corner of her eye. He’d left his trailer and was hurrying toward the set with several crew members surrounding him.
She sighed and headed in the same direction to return to work.
* * *
She didn’t get another chance to be alone with him that day, which dragged endlessly as that realization began to sink in. They caught each other’s eyes a couple of times in the midst of their work, and that only made things worse.
That night, she left the set even later than usual. As she rushed to reach the spot where her cab was picking her up—cell phone in hand, a text to Colin half-composed on its screen—she jumped when someone’s fingers closed around the top of her arm. She spun around and found herself face to face with him.
“Oh, shit. You scared me to death.”
“I’m sorry.” He was out of breath. “I couldn’t let you leave. This is crazy. I can’t remember the last time I was this busy at a shoot. Things haven’t been going very smoothly.”
She nodded. She’d picked up on that, feeling the chaos in the air around her as she was pulled in a hundred different directions.
“I really feel like things will be better tomorrow. Then maybe we can get more than a few minutes alone together.”
His eyes burned into hers, and she knew his mind was on today’s few minutes. She blushed and took a furtive look around, worried about how their intimate stance looked to the crew members and bystanders still milling around the set.
He followed her gaze and then turned her chin to face him. “Who cares about them? I only care about you.”
She smiled at that, an apology in her eyes. Before she could respond, he gripped her arms, pulled her toward an indention in the building behind them, and grazed her lips with his. When her entire body tensed up, he sighed and dropped his hands to his sides. She took a small step back and looked around again, relieved nobody seemed to have seen them.
“Why don’t you come with me—”
His words were interrupted by a shrill blast of Jay Z. He pulled his phone out, glanced at the screen, and looked up apologetically.
“Hold on just a sec.”
He backed up a couple of steps to take the call, and she squinted into the darkening night for the car she knew would be there any second. They stood under a covered walkway with a U-shaped drive in front of it. The letters painted on the glass doors of the building identified it as the Student Center, but it showed no signs of life tonight. Somewhere in the distance, a lawn mower whirred. The sound mingled with the occasional, far-off shouts of crew members as they moved equipment around the set.
Colin mumbled several “okays” and “uh-huhs” before ending his call with a sigh and an “I’ll be right there.”
He gave her a sheepish look as he stuck the phone back in his pocket. He started to speak, but she interrupted him.
“It’s okay,” she said, though a wave of disappointment washed over her. A second later, her own phone rang.
Nina.
She silenced the phone, deciding she’d call her back from the car. She gave Colin a long look and then tore her eyes from his at the sound of approaching tires.
Her cab.
She sighed and moved toward the car in what felt like slow-motion. She slid into the backseat and reached for the door handle. He put his hand out as if to stop her from leaving, but then pressed his lips together and closed the door behind her.
She smiled wistfully at him as he watched her pull away, his expression chagrined.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Frustrations
In her hotel room that night, Amelia flipped their afternoon encounter over and over in her mind. She thought about where things had been headed, where she’d wanted—oh, God, she’d wanted—them to go.
But not like that.
Not there in his dressing room, in that rush, in that panic. She didn’t know where she stood with Colin or what he wanted. Between the distance and their crazy schedules, they’d been forced to take things slow, and that was fine by her. Slow was almost more than she could handle. She’d jumped in head-first once before, and it was against her nature—it wa
s nothing but trouble.
She flipped off the bathroom light and crossed the room to crawl into yet another empty bed. She burrowed into a pile of pillows and flung an arm across her eyes, trying in vain to block out the memories this day had forced on her.
After Noah, there’d been blackness. Months of blackness that had dragged on and on. She’d filled her days mercilessly, focused so hard on her job that some nights, she didn’t even bother to go home.
She didn’t see the people around her, especially the men. She hated listening to co-workers gossip about the guys they were dating—she always found some project to get back to, some reason to drop out of the conversation. Work had been her life, her food, her breath.
One night, one of those extra-long nights when she was the last one at the office, mulling over whether to take the late train back to the Village or just camp out on her manager’s office couch, she was startled to realize in fact she wasn’t the only one left on her floor. A guy from another client team was there, too, finishing up a presentation. She’d met him before, but couldn’t remember his name. He’d just made a fresh pot of coffee and brought her some. He was boyishly good-looking, with auburn, kind of rusty-colored hair and eyes that were green flecked with gold. She remembered thinking he had nice eyes.
They wound up sitting on the floor beside her desk for hours, talking. She told him about Noah. He told her about his girlfriend of almost six years, who’d moved to the city with him from Ohio and dumped him earlier that week for some guy she’d met at the gym.
By 2:00 a.m., talking had turned into kissing. They made out for about half an hour before she cut it off, told him she had to get out of there. He went back to work. She caught a cab home.
Two nights later, they went out after work for a drink. That date led to another one, and then another, and within two weeks he’d gone home with her while her roommate was out of town and wound up staying all night.
Now a Major Motion Picture Page 17