Page 80 of Most Eligible
Breathless, I nod, and he gently peels away the tape, my skin gasping with it. He leans in, taking my earlobe between his teeth, and pinches my nipple between his fingers. I bite my swollen lip, fighting to keep from making noise.
Reaching for his belt is a frantic scramble of fingers, hands, skin. His breath hitches, a flush blooming over his jaw. He drops his mouth, pressing his tongue to my clavicle, the divot at the base of my throat, before hooking a finger inside the waist of my jeans. He trails his tongue back up my neck, his saliva hot then so cold on my skin.
A flash of light makes us both jump, and Rhett springs away from me.
“Rhett!”
A reporter has crept around the corner, camera pointed in our direction.
“Rhett, over here!”
Instinctively, Rhett sweeps his arm in front of me, pushingme out of sight. I cower behind him as another flash of light dazzles the alley.
“Rhett, who’s the girl? How’sLove Shack?”
“Rhett, have you talked to Cassidy?”
I press my hands to his back, trying to pull him away. “Come on,” I plead. “Come on, let’s go.”
But he’s stuck, staring wide-eyed at the reporter. The man’s voice echoes through the alleyway. “Rhett, I have a source saying that you were arrested last year for throwing a beer bottle through Cassidy Foley’s window. Do you have a comment?”
Rhett stiffens, and I bury my face further into his back. Could this reporter be telling the truth? Pressed into the soft fabric of his shirt, tears prick my eyes.
I feel Rhett shake his head before he says, “Go to hell.”
Once the reporter is gone, I pull back from Rhett, who’s breathing hard. He leans against the brick wall, cursing under his breath.
“We have to get you back.”
I blink tears from my eyes. “But—what if they got a picture?”
“I don’t think he got your face,” he says heavily, before turning back to me. “I’m so sorry.”
It’s so much to take in, but the reporter’s words ring in my ears. “Was that true?”
Slowly, he nods, his jaw set. “Yes,” he breathes. “I was arrested last year. For throwing a beer bottle through Cassidy’s window. I was drunk. She cheated on me, messed everything up. And I… I trusted her.” His voice breaks, and he runs a hand through his hair before looking up at me. “Lainey must’ve tipped off the press about it, to try to keep me in line, remind me what’s at stake.”
“She would do that?”
He shrugs in defeat. “Like I told you, she’s dangerous. And no one else knows about the arrest. But… that was the secondpayoff—the second timeLove Shackcovered for me.” He reaches up, cups my face in his hand, and runs his thumb down my cheek. “There was no one else.”
“Why isn’t this easy?” I murmur, voice blurred with tears.
“What?”
“This,” I say, pointing between us. “That one night in LA, it was just…” I squeeze my eyes shut, shake my head. “It was perfect.”
He waits until I open my eyes to respond. “It was perfect because that’s all it was—one night. It wasn’t real life. In real life people make mistakes, mess things up.” He shakes his head. “I can’t mess this up for you.”
Whether he’s talking about Roland or the job he doesn’t know I’m here for, I know he’s right. If Lainey’s on his tail as well as mine, we have to be careful.
He’s already backing away, expecting me to follow.
It feels so wrong to let him leave. Like he’s been fused into my skin then ripped away.
Hugging myself, I jog to catch up to him. We walk through side streets in silence until we get to the car he borrowed from the producers.
I sink down into the leather passenger seat, pressing my palms to my face to stem the tears streaming down my cheeks. It was only a few minutes, but I can still smell him on my skin. A light rain starts up, and I slide further down on the soft leather. The silence between us is impossibly loud until he pulls out into traffic and flips on the radio. As he slows at a stoplight, brake lights stain the foggy windshield like blood in water.
