Page 131 of Score
“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’mdetermined?” 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?”
I glance down at my thin camisole and cutoff jeans, just an inch below butt-cheek level. It’s my favorite thing to write in, and it worked its magic tonight. I’m finally making some headway on this pitch, but now I have to break the flow to go find my cell. I’m working myself up to put my outside clothes back on when there’s a soft tap at the door. One of the last text messages I read was from Monk. He was working with Neevah and Trey, and said he probably wouldn’t come through tonight. It would be late and we’d risk being found out. Even knowing that, I check the keyhole, my heart pounding in anticipation, only to deflate when I see who’s here.
“Chris, hey.” I open the door wider. “What’s up at… I don’t have my phone, but it’s got to be past midnight?”
“Sorry. Yeah, it’s late.” His eyes drop to my chest, sliding over my collarbone and neck until he makes it back to my face. “Um, but I saw your light on, and I figured you’d want this.”
He extends my phone and I grab it, laughing with relief.
“I saw it on set when we were cleaning up for the day,” he says.
“I’m forever leaving this phone somewhere. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
I reach up to give him a quick hug, but when we start pulling apart, his arms tighten around me and he doesn’t let go. Before I can even formulate a thought, he’s kissing me, his tongue pushing past my lips and into my mouth. For a few seconds, I’m frozen, shocked by his audacity, but I struggle in his grip, humming a protest against the mouth crushing mine. He bites my lip, which I think is supposed to be sexy, but it hurts like a motherfucker.
“Ow.” I jerk away and punch his chest. “Chris, what the hell?”
