Page 79 of Last First Kiss

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“Where are you?”

“At the set. I wanted to make sure everything was safe.”

“You left without me?”

“There’s someone outside your door guarding it, and someone else by the elevator. I didn’t want to wake you.”

He almost threw the phone across the room. She just didn’t get it. Was her self-esteem that fucked up that she thought he cared about his own safety above hers?

“I was going to go back but there’s a few things here I’m not happy about, so I’ll just meet you here.”

He was too upset to even speak. He didn’t want to say something he would regret. Honestly, he couldn’t remember ever being that mad. Maybe because he never cared about anyone enough to get upset.

In ten minutes he was out the door, wearing the first thing he grabbed—a T-shirt and jeans. He had two hours of hair and makeup anyway.

The unfamiliar man guarding his door followed him downstairs and escorted him to a car. The conversation was minimal and in thirty minutes they were at the set, which was truly in the middle of Villavincencio. It was located in the center of a busy area with other restaurants, small markets, and shops. Even though rural, from the outside, Ilusiones looked like the most upscale establishment in the street. Perhaps even in the city.

Most of the street seemed to be cordoned off, and when he identified himself to a security guard standing at the end of a street, the guard moved the wooden barricade to allow them through. The crew was setting up, and Spelling was there talking to everyone, hard at work. He’d seen the schedule last night and Julia had most of the morning scenes, so she was already there filming. He had a later start, which is why he’d hoped to sleep in a little. But apparently his thickheaded woman had other plans.

The crew all nodded and smiled as he walked in, and he could barely find the strength to return it, which was not like him. He was known for his friendly easy demeanor.

Sitting at a table, looking away from him, with three laptops in front of her, typing so quickly her fingers looked as if they were gliding across the keyboard, was the woman in question.

“Before I met you, I was a pleasant person,” he said into Annie’s ear, startling her. She stopped typing and turned to meet him.

“What?”

He pulled her chair firmly and turned it around, then he grabbed another chair and dragged it right in front of her, so that they were knee to knee, eye to eye. “Before I met you, people would say—there goes Rocco Monroe. Nice guy. Happy, even.”

She looked completely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Do I look like a happy guy right now? I can tell you I don’t at all feel nice.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and sat back. “No, you look kind of like an ass right now. What is wrong with you?”

“What is wrong with me?” He ran his fingers through his hair. “What is wrong with me? You. You are what’s wrong with me. I’ve never met a woman who avoided spending time with me as much as you do. Or who put herself in danger on purpose like you do.”

“Again? We’re having this conversation again?”

“Yes. Again. We’re having it again.” He said it low so the entire crew didn’t hear, but he knew his voice was getting agitated. “I hate this. This isn’t me.”

“Well, this is me!” she said, hurt contorting her expression, but she quickly schooled it and was back to the impassive robot he disliked so much. “What do you want from me?”

“What do I want from you? I just want you. You. Not this . . . this emotionless person.”

“Fuck you, Monroe. I’m not emotionless. I’m focused. I’m doing my job.”

“So let me ask you this. When this movie is done, and the threat is over, then what? Because there will always be unhappy fans. Crazed fans. Or happy overzealous fans? When will you be my girlfriend? Because I don’t want a bodyguard. I want a woman who is part of my life. An equal. Someone who will love me. Someone I’ll love. Not someone who is working for me twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”

“You knew how important my job was,” she said softly. It was the softest he’d heard her talk. “I can’t let my guard down. Especially not here. I have a bad feeling.”

“I don’t know what to say, Annie. I really don’t. I can see myself having a life with you. Having fun together. Building something. I see all that in those moments when you let your guard down and let me in. But that’s only a few hours in the day, and I don’t know if I can have a part-time girlfriend.”

“What are you saying?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I just—let’s just get through this week.” He stood and walked to the back where the makeup artists had set up their stations.

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