Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
I lean down to whisper in his ear. “I will if you will.”
When I sit back up, both my brows lifted in challenge, he grins.
“I’ll think about it,” he finally says, truly surprising the hell out of me.
“You do that.” I roll off him so we are side by side and stare up at the ceiling. “By the way, Livvie asked me for any inside scoop on how she could get in with you.”
He turns his head to stare at my profile, but I don’t meet his eyes. “You joking?”
“Nope.”
He slips his hand under my T-shirt, caressing my stomach. “Did you tell her I’m taken?”
“Um, no. It would be all over the set before I made it home. The whole crew would be gossiping about us.”
“I honestly don’t give a fuck.”
“What?” I do turn my head to look at him then. “I thought we agreed it was best to keep it off the radar. I mean, especially since it’s just… well, sex. It could confuse other people. They might think it’s a relationship. We don’t want the pressure of other people’s expectations, right?”
A muscle flexes in his jaw and the sensual curve of his mouth flattens. It feels like I’m missing something. Like I’ve said something he doesn’t agree with, but I’m just expressing what we already established. What he wanted, right?
The squawk of an incoming text interrupts my question. He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check.
“Dammit.” He sits and frowns at the screen.
“What is it?” I ask, leaning up on my elbow.
“Jill sent me a link to that gossip site Black Business.” He turns his phone for me to read the headline.
Director Canon Holt and newcomer Neevah Saint dating??? Camille Hensley tells all!
“Looks like Canon’s ex went on some podcast today running her mouth,” Monk says, scanning the article.
“I hope people won’t assume Neevah slept her way into her first big role.”
He stands and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Guess it’s good you’re determined no one find out about us so we don’t have to worry about all this gossip.”
“I’m determined?” I frown and huff a breath. “We both said that was for the best because this is—”
“Just fucking. I know. Yeah.” Posture stiff, he walks over to the fake window and phony fire escape. “We don’t want anyone getting confused about what this is.”
It’s quiet in the small room, and I’m not sure what to say.
“I, um, better go get ready for this video call.”
I cross over and tip up to press a quick kiss to his lips. His mouth is hard and unyielding beneath mine, not letting me in. I settle on my feet and turn to go.
“Okay.” I clear my throat. “Guess I’ll talk to you later.”
I’m almost at the door when he grabs my wrist and pulls me back, his mouth coming down and devouring mine. I moan into the kiss, relief and desire forcing me to strain up on my toes to get as much of him as I can. I link my elbows behind his neck. His hands wander over my back and ass and up so that he’s cradling my face by the time the kiss slows, settles into licks and nibbles at the corners of my mouth.
“We’re okay?” I whisper, worry still dogging me despite the passionate kiss.
He rests his forehead against mine and nods, then swats my ass. “You better get home for your call.”
“You’re coming on location with us, right? To Santa Barbara?”
“Yeah. There’s a song I want to capture live while we’re there. We have the backup tracks, but I want a few takes of Neevah singing live. If we don’t like it, we’ll have the recordings.”
It feels like we’ve barely seen each other since New Year’s Eve.
“Wanna come over tonight?” I ask, trying to keep the longing out of my voice. I know he’s been buried with work. Not just this project, but a studio album he’s helping produce.
“I’m flying to New York, but it’s a quick trip. I’ll come straight to Santa Barbara when I’m done.”
I want to say I’ll miss him. To say I’ll think about him while we’re apart. I want to tell him to hurry back to me, but none of that feels like what we’ve agreed to. My heart missed the memo, and until my emotions are in check, I’ll keep it all to myself.
FORTY-TWO
Verity
“Shit.”
I search under the bed, through all my bags, and even between the couch cushions, but my phone is nowhere to be found. All the above-the-line cast have been assigned quaint cottages along the Santa Barbara shore. Everyone else is staying at the hotel. I’ve turned this place upside down searching for my phone, but I’m beginning to accept that I left it somewhere.
“Ugh.” I sift through the contents of my purse one last time, even though I know it hasn’t magically appeared in the two minutes since I last checked. “Am I gonna have to put on clothes and go outside?”