Just Like the Movies

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Just Like the Movies Page 10

by Natasha Preston

Spencer pretends to wretch. “Creamer. Who does that?”

  Ella laughs. “He tipped it out in a plant.”

  “Milk goes in tea. Straight up milk. No cream shit.”

  I turn my nose up. “We can get milk here, right?”

  He nods. “They know how I take tea here.”

  Good. There is nothing worse than a bad cuppa. Also, how often does Spencer pay double figures for an egg?

  “So, are you looking forward to the premiere, Ella?” I ask. “I think Spence is secretly nervous.”

  “Spence is more than secretly nervous,” he admits.

  “You’ll be fine. We’ll stick together,” Ella says before I can tell him that he’ll be amazing.

  It’s always been my job to tell him that, not only that he can do anything, but he will also do it well. Who does this woman think she is? Why can’t she be a raging bitch? It would be easier to hate her if she wasn’t so nice.

  “Just don’t fall over,” I tell him with a grin.

  He tilts his head towards me and deadpans. “Really?”

  Ella laughs.

  “Couldn’t resist. What time do you have to go to the TV thing?”

  “Midday. Do you want to come?”

  I shake my head. “That’s okay. I’ll catch up with your mum and dad.”

  “We’re taking Indie out tonight, yes?” Ella asks Spencer.

  No.

  I want to be here to support and celebrate Spencer. I don’t want to be photographed with him. I can’t have anyone trying to figure out who I am.

  He raises his eyebrow. “Indie?”

  “Erm…”

  “We’ll disguise you,” he says.

  Ella’s eyes lighten with understanding. “Absolutely. Two of my childhood friends are still way off the radar. I’m a ninja. We’ll have a great night, and no one will know you’re even there. Ethan wants to do something, too.”

  I sit straighter. “Oh, I do want to meet Ethan.”

  She laughs. “He’s cute, right?”

  Spencer scowls.

  “So cute. I loved him in… I can’t remember the name, but he got naked.”

  Ella’s lips press together as she tries not to laugh again. “Criminal. He was the hottest villain.”

  Nodding, I reply, “I didn’t know whether I wanted to slap him or jump him.”

  “He’s probably into both.”

  Spencer’s eyes tighten. “Is someone going to come and take our order or not?”

  They do, about five seconds after he grumbles about it. If they heard him, I hope they lick his expensive sourdough toast.

  “How scared was Spence on his first day? He only told me he was nervous because he was trying to be cool. Did he pee his pants?”

  “I’m right here, Indie.”

  Both Ella and I ignore him. “Like a petrified puppy. He was adorable. It didn’t take him long to catch on, though, and now you wouldn’t know he’s a newbie.”

  “We’re moving on,” Spencer demands.

  “You want me to get along with your friends, just like you did with Mila and Wren.”

  “I would rather you did it without talking about me.”

  “You’re the only thing we have in common right now.”

  He folds his arms. “Find something else.”

  I look back at Ella. “I think he’s jet lagged.”

  Spencer lets out an exasperated breath.

  “He talks about you all the time,” she says.

  I steal a glance at Spencer to find he’s glaring at Ella as if she’s revealed a big secret.

  “Oh, stop,” she scolds. “It was refreshing to see someone still missing home and not getting totally swept away by fame.” Turning to me, she adds, “You’re still the most important person in the world to him. I’ve seen that fade with others, but it’s been almost three years now and he’s still not looked at anyone else.”

  I lick my lips as I try to find something to say. Not looked at anyone else? Is she talking romantically?

  Ella saves us from the awkward silence. “You should have seen him after our long days on set. I thought we’d killed him at one point. Ethan and I both tried waking him up.”

  I go along with her subject change because I’m too scared to backtrack. “He fell asleep on set?”

  “No, in his trailer.”

  “Moving on… again,” he mutters.

  Our food is brought out, and Spencer’s shoulders relax. He’s never liked to look weak—his words, not mine. He’s the one who fixes things.

  He can’t fix me or my parents. God, I know he would try if he knew about them. He’d drop everything and rush to my house. I would be out of there in a heartbeat while he tried to put back all the broken pieces of me. That’s not possible. You can’t fully heal in the respect that you’ll move forward without some lasting damage.

  If he knew, we’d be changed forever. I would be the poor girl with the neglectful parents.

  I just want to be Indie.

  Does he want that, too? I wonder if he wants to pick up where we left off when we were seventeen. That would be almost impossible.

  Patting his hand, I say, “Sorry. You’re still big and tough to me.”

  He rolls his pretty eyes, and I can’t help looking at his lips. I haven’t felt those against me in far too long. My blood sears as I imagine kissing him, feeling his tongue sliding against mine.

  We finish breakfast, and Spencer walks me back to his house before he has to leave. His disguise is in place. There are more people around now, but he’s not been spotted that we know of. That’s probably because I’m a nobody and he’s with me. If he was walking with Ella, they would be mobbed.

  “What do you think of Ella?” he asks as he cuts the engine on his drive.

  “She’s nice. I like her.”

  There was no sexual tension between them at all so I’m now in favour of their friendship. There is, however, tension between us. We haven’t spoken about what Ella said. We don’t need to in order to feel those words.

  “Good. She’s really helped me, you know.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “I almost quit during the second week.”

  “What? You never said.”

  He shrugs. “I was homesick, I missed you, and the hours were kicking my arse. We were nowhere near done. I didn’t think I could make it to wrap.”

  He missed me.

  What is happening? We have to talk but what if I don’t like what he says? He might have been missing me in a purely platonic way.

  “So ,what happened?”

  “Ella. She told me how she felt the same when she landed her first lead in a movie. It’s hard work, and there’s a lot of pressure on top of the long hours. You pretend to be someone else for a massive chunk of the day, and then you crash. I guess I felt like I was losing myself because I had no time to be my own person anymore.”

  “And she changed that.”

  “She showed me I’m not alone, and that a lot of actors go through something similar. You changed my mind.”

  “What did I do? You didn’t even tell me you felt like that.”

  His lips curl. “I thought about coming home and telling you I’d given up. I couldn’t do it. Indie, you’ve been the reason I pushed so hard. You made me believe I could do anything. There was no way I was coming home without finishing my first movie.”

  My heart beats harder, and I feel a bolt of desire between my legs.

  Don’t leap on him. Jesus, I would give up all of my savings if he would just kiss me. “You’re such an amazing actor, Spence. I can’t wait to watch everything you do. There is going to be so much more. But I hope you already know that I want your first Oscar to be dedicated to me.”

  He tilts his head back and laughs. “You got it, sweetheart.”

  We’re using sweetheart again, are we?

  Fine by me.

  “We should get inside,” I tell him. “Your mum wants to go shopping, and you know how cranky she gets when she’s held ba
ck.”

  “I feel sorry for Dad’s credit card.”

  “She’s going to have to get another suitcase.”

  It’s weird to think that I won’t be doing the return flight with him. There will be no whispering while others sleep or eating together in one of the pods. I’ll have his parents, but nothing will be the same.

  His smile drops as if he’s realising the same thing. Two more days, and I’ll be on that plane. Who knows when he’ll come home, and there is no way I’m allowing him to buy me another ticket. I’ll have to save separately for one if he can’t get home. Economy isn’t too expensive. I don’t even want to think about how much Spencer paid for first class.

  Not that it wasn’t freaking amazing.

  Spencer and I make our way into his posh apartment, and I kick off my shoes. My toes curl into the thick pile as I walk into the living room and look out of the glass wall to the ocean.

  “Huh, they’re not back from sightseeing yet,” he says absentmindedly as he throws his keys onto the side table.

  “Do you have any time?” I ask, turning around. He’s a better view, anyway. “We could watch something.”

  His eyes linger on me. “I have some time. Put what you want on and I’ll grab us some water.”

  We’re acting like a couple.

  Stop that.

  Spencer joins me on the sofa. I lay back, resting my head against his shoulder, and I fall asleep within minutes.

  Eighteen

  Spencer

  Indie is in bed when I get home that evening. It’s only just after eight but she’s jet lagged. I send a quick text to Ella, telling her that we’re taking a rain check tonight. There’s no place I’d rather be than in bed with Indie, anyway.

  “How did it go?” Dad asks.

  I nod. “It was fine.”

  “You look tired,” Mum says.

  Her and Dad are curled under a blanket on the sofa, watching TV.

  Stretching my back, I stifle a smile. “I am. How was shopping?”

  Dad turns his nose up.

  “Indie and I enjoyed it,” Mum says. “I bought a lot. She bought one thing. I need to take her out more often, show her how it’s done. Dad liked sightseeing but not the shopping.”

  Maybe Indie can’t afford to. I hate the thought of her not having something she might want or need. She deserves the world.

  “Do you want to join us?” Mum asks. Her eyes drift to my bedroom door. “Or are you going to Indie?”

  The way she asks that makes me swallow.

  I can’t go to her.

  “I’m tired,” I say, rubbing my forehead. “Night, guys.”

  “Goodnight, love,” Mum says, smiling warmly.

  I close my bedroom door behind me, and Indie’s beauty slams me in the face. She’s asleep, curled on her side, with one hand under the pillow and the other gripping the edge of the quilt. Her long eyelashes cast a shadow on her smooth skin.

  Move, you creep.

  I force my legs to move, stepping into the bathroom for a shower. Evidence that Indie did the same not too long ago is everywhere. The mirror is still damp, a shampoo bottle is laying down in the middle of the shower, and her towel is strewn over the towel rail carelessly.

  I stand in the shower longer than necessary, the hot water pounding my skin, and the steam clearing my lungs. Indie is in my bed again. We’ve never shared before here. I don’t think falling asleep on top of the quilt or on the sofa counts.

  Under the cover, it’s so easy to reach out and touch her. I need tying up to stop myself. Or I need to build a wall down the middle to remove temptation.

  Once I finish my shower, I dry myself slowly and make about a million mental notes on how not to fuck up the only friendship I can’t function without.

  When I’m dry, I slip into bed carefully, trying not to make too much noise or movement to wake her.

  Indie can study late into the night for weeks and be fine, then she’ll crash and sleep for about fourteen hours solid. I can just see her up until the early hours before she came to LA, worrying that she’ll get behind with work.

  The girl has probably done enough to complete the three-year course twice over.

  I lay my head on the pillow, and Indie takes a deep breath.

  I groan inwardly and fist my hands. Lust curls in my stomach.

  Her eyes flick open, and two pools of dark chocolate stare back at me.

  I clear my throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” My voice sounds rough and horny, even to me.

  She relaxes again, her body sinking into the mattress. “You’re back.”

  “You’re sleepy.”

  “I wanted to wait for you but I was exhausted. The time difference sucks.”

  “It’s okay.” Finding her in my bed might just be the favourite part of having her here. “You took my side.”

  “This is my side now.”

  Now. God, she makes it sound like a permanent thing. If I asked her to stay here indefinitely, she would find the nicest way to turn me down. I’d give anything to come home to her every day. To climb into bed, have sex, and fall asleep curled up together.

  “Your side. Is that so?”

  She nods.

  “You know I could make you move, right?”

  “I do.”

  Is that what she’s hoping for? I don’t think we’ve play fought in years. The idea of having her writhing around on top or under me is exciting. Every ounce of blood shoots south until my dick is throbbing and I can barely breathe.

  “Are you going to move?” I rasp.

  “Nope.”

  “All right, you asked for it.” She gasps when I reach under the quilt and grab her waist.

  “Spencer!” she squeals. There is no way my parents didn’t hear that. “No, you snooze you lose. This side is mine!”

  She twists her body, but I manage to hoist her above me before I drop her down the other side. We’re now back where we should be.

  “There, you little bed thief.”

  “You picked me up like I don’t weigh a thing.”

  “You barely do, Indie.”

  Does she eat much at home? She’s always been on the skinny side. If anyone ever mentioned how slim she is, she would tell them it’s her metabolism. It might be… but I want to know for sure.

  “I don’t think that was very nice. Before you came in and started throwing me around, I was fast asleep. Now I’m awake, and you’re going to have to entertain me.”

  Oh, Jesus, I know a few ways.

  “All right, take your clothes off.” I’m bold. Potentially too bold. She hasn’t kicked me out of my own bed yet, though, so I’ll take that.

  Rolling her eyes, she whacks my stomach with the back of her hand. She’s too close for it to have hurt. When I dropped her back on the bed, I left my arm around her. A few inches closer and she would be pressed up against me.

  “I can’t wait to see you on that red carpet. I’m so proud of you, Spence,” she whispers.

  My hand has a mind of its fucking own. Her words burn as I reach out and run my fingertips down her cheek, and along her jaw. I shudder at the contact. “Thank you.”

  “Promise me it won’t be so long next time.”

  “The time we’re apart?”

  “Yeah. I need you to promise me that.” Her voice is a whisper.

  “I’ll do everything I can to be with you as often as I can. I meant what I said when I told you that I’ll come whenever you need me. No matter where I am in the world.”

  “What if you’re in the Maldives?”

  “I’m not sure why I’d be there but, sure, I’d come back from the Maldives.”

  “What if you’re in the Antarctic?”

  “I’d definitely come back.”

  “What if you’re in Amelia Renalds?”

  The hot supermodel I had plastered over my wall when I was fifteen. “You’re on your own then.”

  She gasps and wriggles, trying to get away and whack me. I’m not lett
ing go. I feel like a fucking addict. Since we initiated the first touch, I was hooked.

  I laugh and pull her against my chest. “Oh no, you don’t.”

  “You’re a dick.” She pouts.

  Do not bite her lip.

  “Yeah, yeah.” I roll her onto her side and wrap my other arm around her body. She fits so perfectly with her chest against mine. I move my hips back so she can’t feel my throbbing cock.

  “I get it, though. I would ditch you in a heartbeat for Ethan.”

  What?

  I scoop her closer with one hand, and she giggles. “You plan to run off with him tomorrow?”

  “He is very beautiful.”

  “What am I? A troll?”

  “You’re beautiful, too. You’re also my best friend in the whole world.”

  Am I getting friend zoned right now? “You wound me, Indie.”

  “Oh, please, you can have any supermodel you want.”

  So, that’s what this is about. She doesn’t think I would want her now that a shitload more doors—and legs—have opened for me.

  Indie is the one who broke things off with me. She told me we were on very different paths and it’s better to break up and be friends than to crumble trying to make long-distance work.

  Not that she was wrong. I don’t know how we would have gone back to friends if we’d failed at a long-term relationship. At only two weeks, our relationship was new and—apart from the kissing— exactly the same as it had always been.

  Damn, do I miss kissing her.

  It wasn’t particularly easy to hop back to being just friends so I know it would have been impossible months down the line… and if we’d had sex.

  “I don’t want a supermodel,” I tell her.

  She’s so close. Her smooth legs are pressed against mine, making me delirious. I want her so bad, want to feel her soft skin and devour that hot mouth.

  “Tell that to your old posters.”

  I lean forwards and hear her breath catch, but I don’t go for her mouth. Not yet. I whisper in her ear, “You know those posters were taken down the second you said you’d be mine.”

  “Hmm, so now you want nerdy university students who will never be red carpet worthy?” she teases, breathlessly.

  My fingers curl into her waist. I’m desperate. “I like nerdy university students.”

 

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