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He pulls me back up with him.
His lips curl into a half-smile and I melt.
Then he kisses me and everything else in the world clicks into place.
He pulls back to whisper in my ear, "I want to get you out of those wet clothes." He palms my ass, over my jeans. "But I have to go before traffic hits."
I nod, even though my body and heart are screaming you have to stay.
31
Lacey
My Monday morning drive takes far too long. Or I couldn't sleep all night because I kept thinking about Mal–induced grumpiness is affecting my ability to observe time.
He's taking up too much space in my head.
Today is going to be a busy day. It's one of five busy days I have to get through before I'm done working for Danielle. This is the home stretch. It's not the time to slack off.
After I park, I linger in my car, taking deep breaths. They bring oxygen into my body but they don't do much to clear my mind. That's no good. We have a huge shoot this afternoon, one where we're going to try to cram a five-piece band into this tiny studio.
I don't have space for irritation or exhaustion, much less this boy-induced scatterbrain.
After one more deep breath, I get out of my car. It's early, but it's nice. The sun is shining. The air is temperate rather than the usual even Satan turns on the air conditioner at this temperature heat of the Valley in August.
I slide my key into the lock but it doesn't turn.
Huh?
This is the right key.
I try again. The key slides in but the handle won't turn. The door isn't stuck. I try the bottom lock. This time, my key won't get halfway through the lock.
Am I so in the clouds that I'm at the wrong place? No, this is our address, that's my parking space, the door is still labeled Danielle Kubbie.
I'm about to find my cell and call Danielle when the door pulls open.
Danielle stares at me, fire in her dark eyes. "You have some fucking nerve."
"What?" I take a step backwards. There's fury in her eyes. The locks are changed. She's pissed at me. She has legitimate reasons. Maybe even for this much rage.
"You play sweet, Lacey. And I fucking bought it. I should know better. I've seen how it goes."
"I don't know—"
"Bullshit. You might as well spit in my face. Poaching my client is one thing, but the cowardice?" She holds out her cell, the screen pointed to me. It's already playing the Hurt Me, Baby video. The one I cut together. It's on the band's YouTube channel. "This isn't my cut. Not even close."
I swallow hard.
"I thought maybe it was a mistake. I know you have that passion. Maybe you cut the video together for fun. To see what it would be like if you were special enough to be the pretty girl in the rock star's bed."
"I didn't—"
"No, you didn't need a video, did you?" Danielle shakes her head. "You really think you can fuck your way into a career?"
"It's not like that."
"It's exactly like that. You cut my video. You fuck the lead singer. And then you're shooting their next video. You think I'm stupid?"
