Not My Romance - Page 14

Chapter Eight

Kyra

My heartbeat drums in my chest as Kayden leans toward me. He’s got that smirk on his lips, but his eyes are dead serious as he gets closer and closer. His scent washes over me, filling my nose and causing my body to sizzle.

We shared more than I ever could’ve guessed when I blurted out all that stuff about my parents and my passion for filmmaking. I feel so freaking comfortable talking to him, but now every inch of my skin feels like it’s on fire, electricity sparking up and down my spine.

He's so close I can feel his breath wafting over my face, across my cheeks, tingling sensations teasing up and down my body. I shift forward, parting my lips.

And then he reaches past me and opens the door.

He sits back, his jaw tight. My cheeks are fire red as I climb from the car, tears threatening to slide down my cheeks.

Shame streaks through me in vicious waves.

What the heck was I thinking?

Of course, he wasn’t going to kiss me.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say, unable to look at him.

“Text me what time you’d like the car to arrive tomorrow.”

“Okay, thank you.”

It’s a struggle to keep my voice steady as I walk across the street. I need to get away from him as quickly as possible before he can see the effect that near-miss – no, near kiss – is having on me.

But then, I reflect as I take the stairs two at a time, it wasn’t a near kiss. He was just opening the door for me.

Why did he lean in like that, then? Did I imagine the whole thing?

My mind whirs as I struggle to make sense of this all. I’m so freaking tired of not knowing if he has any interest in me or if it’s all in my head. If Zadie told me about a man leaning in like that, so close she could feel his breath, I’d tell her almost certainly he was doing it on purpose.

But Zadie is beautiful, and she’s never been with any CEOs. He’s an older man. He probably sees me as a silly little girl who doesn’t even have her life together. He was just being friendly.

I drop onto my bed, letting out a sigh. At least I didn’t make a complete fool of myself and kiss him first. That’s something to be grateful for. I don’t think I’d be able to go to work tomorrow if I had.

The car arrives right on time the next day.

A fanciful part of me hoped Kayden would text about more than the transport, but he kept everything to the point. As I sit in the back of the chauffeured car, watching the city roll by, I remind myself for what feels like the hundredth time that he’s only being friendly.

When I arrive at the set, Lisa tells me to go into the dressing room to help with hair and makeup. The makeup artists have got three of the contestants – Hallie, Natalie, and Grace – lined up in front of tall mirrors. My job is to fetch whatever they need.

I make a coffee run, feeling invisible and foolish when I return with the drinks.

I stand behind Hallie in the mirror. She looks so sexy and dangerous with her tattoos, and a sparkle in her eyes I could only wish for. She looks like the sort of woman who would know exactly what to do if Kayden leaned in like that, even if his intention was only to open the door.

She wouldn’t blush. She wouldn’t nearly cry.

I look frumpy standing next to her, and I’m glad once I’ve put the coffee down and receded into the background, waiting for my next instruction.

“So who do you think has got it, girls?” Hallie asks.

Natalie responds in her husky voice, tossing her hair with a smile. “He did seem quite interested in you yesterday, but I’m not sure you’ve got the stamina for him, sweetie. Did you see that body? He’s ripped as hell and I bet he knows how to use it, too.”

“I’ve got the stamina, don’t worry about that,” Hallie says.

I smooth my hands over my belly, as though shielding our future children from this talk about their father. A thought that’s as crazy as my chances with Kayden. I’ve got no right to feel jealous – no right to want to start throwing the makeup all over the place – and yet their words fill me with envy.

They have no right to talk about my man like that.

They have no right to make me feel worthless.

Grace laughs, her bob of blonde hair shifting around her face. The makeup artists work seamlessly, moving around the women as though they’re not even there. And the way the contestants are talking, they – and I – might as well not be. I get the sense we’re invisible to them, beneath their notice.

Tags: Flora Ferrari Romance
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