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More chuckles erupted around us, and Tate threw up his hands. “Okay, everyone’s in on the joke now.”
Film crews were notorious when it came to shit like that. The last time I called him that nickname on set someone sent a tater tot casserole to his trailer. He was not amused, but everyone else thought it was funny.
“Okay, people, back to work,” Jared announced.
Six hours later, we wrapped up taping for the day.
Tate and I took a rideshare back to the hotel. Despite my exhaustion, I was wired, unsettled.
When we arrived at our floor, Tate insisted on walking me to my door.
“I said I was fine, stop fussing over me,” I grumbled.
I opened the door and Tate followed me inside.
“Um, your room is down the hall,” I reminded him.
“I’m keeping you company for a bit.”
I didn’t want to admit it, but I was grateful for his kindness. Today had been a productive day, but emotionally, I was fucking drained. And I didn’t want to be alone.
We wandered into the room and Tate kicked off his shoes and made himself at home on my bed. Before I did something stupid, like crawl on top of him, I headed for the bathroom.
After enjoying a relaxing shower, I slipped on my bathrobe and headed back out to the bedroom.
Tate was out cold, snoring softly.
I walked over to the closet and pulled out a blanket, then placed it over him.
Walking around the end of the bed to my side, I toed off my slippers, turned off the light and slid under the duvet.
Unlike Tate, my sleep just wouldn’t come. And no, it wasn’t because my roommate was snoring.
I was trying to work out my emotions.
I’d always managed to keep my feelings about Tate to myself, but lately, it was getting harder and harder to hide how I felt about him. After everything we’d been through, there were no protective walls left around my heart.
It turns out, he’d snuck in there ten years ago and never left.
I watched the rise and fall of his chest, then my gaze moved higher, to the dark lashes that kissed his cheekbones. His hair was a tumbled mess around his face.
He was so goddamn beautiful that everything in my body ached just looking at him.
With a loud sigh, I snuggled under the covers and scooted over so I was almost touching him. I always envied his body heat since I ran cold.
Gradually, I began to relax.
His face was the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes.
When I woke up the next morning, I was lying on my other side and Tate was wrapped around me like I was his personal body pillow. Trying to extricate myself without waking him, I slowly moved his arm away from my waist and started to slide away from the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Tate’s sleep-roughened drawl had me frozen in place.
His arm latched onto me again, and I couldn’t move.
“We need to get up and get dressed. We’re due on set in an hour,” I reminded him.
