Throb (Life on Stage 1) - Page 41

“Yes. I just don’t feel that great.”

“Can I come in?”

I want to say no. I don’t want to see anyone right now. “I just need another minute.” Or year. Year would be better.

“I’ll wait.”

Two minutes later I take a deep breath and open the door. Flynn steps in and closes the door behind him. “Are you okay? You look flushed.”

“Yeah. Just not feeling so hot, I guess.”

The look on his face is concern. He reaches out and feels my forehead. “You’re not warm.” I look down—I can’t possibly look into his eyes. I was just in the arms of another man and this sweet guy is concerned that my freshly fucked flush might be a fever. I’m a horrible human being.

“Come here.” He pulls me to him. I want to run away, not let him touch me, but instead I freeze in place, unsure of how to react. He wraps his arms around me. “I think you’re just nervous about the shoot. The camera really makes you anxious, doesn’t it?” One of his hands moves to my shoulder. “You’re a ball of stress. Let me work my magic fingers on you for a few minutes to help it disappear.”

Nervous, I walk to the set next to Flynn, thankful he doesn’t try to hold my hand. There’s no sign of Cooper anywhere, but I know he’s here somewhere. He’s giving me space because I need it to get through this shoot, but Cooper Montgomery is not the type of man to stay in the shadows for very long.

The camera crew quickly arranges Flynn and me where they need us to stand. “Facing each other,” one of the production assistants says, “Kate’s palms flat on your upper chest. Talk for a minute or two. We’ll yell ‘ready’ when it’s time for Flynn to lean in for a kiss.”

Even when I’m situated in my assigned position, palms flat on chest, I avoid Flynn’s eyes. I can’t bear to look at him; surely he’ll see what a complete fraud I am.

“Kate,” Flynn says gently.

I still don’t look up at him.

“Kate,” he repeats. When I still don’t look up his hand gently cups my chin, lifting my face so my eyes meet his gaze. “You look gorgeous. Nervous and flushed is a good look for you.” He flashes a boyish smile and speaks quietly. He’s trying to put me at ease.

“Thank you.” God, I’m an utterly disgusting person. I’m not even sure what I feel guiltier about at the moment—my hands touching another man not twenty minutes after Cooper was inside of me, or the disrespect I’m showing Flynn.

“Ready!” The director yells, queuing us for a kiss.

Flynn and I stare at each other, I’m lost somewhere in outer space, and he tries diligently to find me. His eyes fall to my lips and then back to meet mine. I must look like a deer in the headlights, because he shows mercy, swerving to avoid a near disaster. Leaning down, he avoids my quivering mouth, instead pressing his lip to my temple. “I’ll deal with them. I’d never make you do anything you don’t want to do,” he whispers as a tear falls from my eye.

Flynn and Miles have a nearby heated exchange. And then Flynn returns, his victorious smile fading when he sees me.

“My kisses really aren’t that bad. I promise. I might have even heard a rumor that I was good at it.” He laces our fingers together and lifts my hand to kiss the top.

“I’m sorry. I feel terrible. It’s not you.” They might be the first truthful words I’ve said to this man today. It really isn’t him.

“Think you can handle a dance with me?”

The confusion on my face is evident.

“They’re going to shoot us slow-dancing. It’s what I worked out instead of a steamy kiss.”

My chest tightens. I’m not really even up to a dance, but how can I tell him that without making him think he doesn’t repulse me?

“Thank you. That would be great.”

“Don’t thank me. I might have been a little selfish suggesting it. I may not be getting a kiss, but I’m still getting your body pressed close to mine.”

Cooper’s classic Porsche is parked out front of my building when I finally return home. I pretty much expected him to appear at every turn today, but he didn’t. The anticipation of when he might appear only made the day that much more unbearable.

I pull into the spot next to him. He’s outside, leaning against his car, when I park.

“I wasn’t sure where you went,” I say.

“I couldn’t stay there any longer.”

“When did you leave?”

“About two seconds after the director yelled ‘Ready.’” He tugs his fingers harshly through his locks. It looks like he’s done quite a bit of that since earlier today, his mussed hair having bore the brunt of his stress. Yet I still can’t help noticing how sexy it makes him look.

“I couldn’t watch another man put his lips on you.” Cooper maintains the safe distance between us as he speaks.

“He didn’t,” I say softly.

“He didn’t what?” His hopeful gaze blazes into me.

“Kiss me.”

He steps closer, narrowing the gap between us until my back is up against my car. Positioning one hand on either side of my head against my Jeep, his eyes search mine. “Are you just telling me that because it’s what I want to hear?”

I shake my head. His eyes close with relief.

“Come home with me.” His voice is gentle, raw.

Tags: Vi Keeland Life on Stage Romance
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