Page 36 of My Sexy Rival (Stars In Their Eyes 2)
She grabbed the phone, and gave him directions. “I’ve been dying to meet you all week since she told me you were constitutionally good-looking. Her words.”
Then when she hung up, I shrugged. “It’s true. You’re going to wish he were yours,” I said, as my lips twitched in a smile. At least, there was that. He was mine. For now.
14
Jess
* * *
“They still served cake?” Anaka asked, shocked, as she tucked her feet underneath her.
William sat in a cushiony chair across from us, still decked out in his wedding attire, but with a few buttons undone on his white dress shirt. Anaka and I were stationed on the pale blue couch in the living room, and she demanded a chapter and verse rundown on what had gone down after the exchange of the I dos, which marked precisely the moment I had taken off.
“Yes. But it was gluten-free cake. And they served all the food, too—kale, carrots, and quinoa salad. Chelsea Knox is this big environmentalist, so she probably didn’t want to waste anything. They’d ordered all the food already.”
“God forbid they waste gluten-free cake. Talk about yakking up food,” Anaka said, and mimed gagging. “That shit is nasty.”
“Stop. This whole conversation is giving me a headache,” I said and pressed a hand to my forehead.
Anaka was not deterred. “Were there other paparazzi there?”
William nodded. “At the end, word got out that it was faked so there were a few photogs out on the street near her driveway. Someone tried to climb the fence apparently.”
After a few more questions, Anaka brushed one palm against the other. “Well, I have a load of delicates that need tending to, and then I just had this strange notion—maybe it landed out of the blue—that I’ve been missing Suede so much I’m going to sleep at my parents’ house and cuddle with the family cat tonight,” she said, then squeezed my shoulder and winked.
I pulled her in for a hug. “Suede is going to be so happy,” I said, teasing her.
“Get out of here, and go enjoy this very good thing you have, rather than thinking about what you don’t have,” she whispered in my ear.
After she said goodbye at her parents’ front door, we walked along her circular driveway to where our respective rides were parked—his motorcycle and my scooter.
I rested my hand on the handlebars, and William stood next to me.
“So,” he said, waiting for me to say what happens next.
“So.”
“Jess, I’m really sorry about the wedding.”
Jutting up my shoulders, I shot him a rueful smile. “Me, too. But what about you? Do you still need intel from me? For that publicist client?”
“James wants me to come to one last meeting with the client tomorrow, and then I’m done with him. Though he is giving me a nice recommendation so I couldn’t tell him off with a grand I quit like they’d do in the movies.”
“That’s absolutely how they’d do it in the movies,” I said, cracking a small smile. “I hate it when life doesn’t work like the movies. Sorry things with James aren’t panning out.”
“Truth be told, he’s such a dick that I suppose it’s all for the best, and I’ll simply have to look elsewhere for a job.”
“I’ll help you. However I can,” I offered.
He took a step closer. “You would?” he said as he touched my cheek with his thumb, tracing the outline of my jaw.
“Of course. I don’t know how, but we’ll figure something out. Because I really want you to—” I let my voice trail off. Vulnerability was far too uncomfortable a coat to wear. But even so, I had to find the guts to say what I wanted. I had to, every now and then, let go of the way I kept people at a distance. The more I tried to control things, the less I was able to.
“To?” he prompted.
I swallowed down my fear, letting my chest fill only with the strange certainty I felt for him. For us. We were both so disappointed today, so let down in our quests. But at least we had this. Each other. We didn’t find what we were looking for, but we had somehow found something else other than work or money. “To stay,” I said, keeping my gaze locked on his the whole time, watching his eyes light up with my words.
“Me, too. So much,” he said, lacing his hands through my hair and pressing his forehead to mine.
I didn’t know what to say with his hands in my hair. It felt too good for words.
“What now?” he asked softly. “No one to follow. No elaborate spy acrobatics to plan.”
“No agenda,” I said, continuing.
“Nothing but the present,” he said. “What should we do?”
I didn’t answer that question. Instead, I pulled back to look into those stormy gray eyes. My lips parted, and my chest rose and fell, and I tried to find a way to restore speech. I hoped he could read my mind, or my body language, as I angled closer to him, but I was sure we were on the same page. I went for it.
