Page 68 of Breaking Hollywood

“Oh no,” Barb says. “How’d he do that?”

“Oh, I did it. I hit him with my car.”

Barb’s eyes widen, and I hear Sadie snigger.

“No, I mean, I ran over his foot with my car by accident. Total accident.”

Jesus Christ, Ava.

“Oh, well, so long as he’s okay,” Barb says kindly.

“He’s fine. Absolutely fine. Only two bones broken, first and second metatarsals. He’ll be back to new in six to eight weeks.”

Jesus, I’m sweating.

“Right. Well”—I clap my hands together—“I guess…I’ll leave you to it.”

I turn on my heel and go to the terrace where Gucci is still lying in the same place as I left her.

“Come on, baby girl.” I scoop her up into my arms, and she snuggles in close.

I walk quickly through the living room where Sadie and Barb have started cleaning, and I head to the office.

The door is closed, so I tap on it and push it open.

Gabe is staring at his computer screen. And he’s wearing his glasses.

Good God, he looks sexy. Really sexy. Like hot, nerdy whiz kid who’s really a superhero by night.

A superhero who gives amazing orgasms to women. Well, me.

Ha! Keep dreaming, Simms.

He moves his eyes to me.

I clear my throat. “The cleaners are here,” I tell him.

“Right…”

I move into the room and shut the door behind me. I take a seat in the chair in the corner.

“You staying?” He raises a brow.

“I feel weird out there with the cleaners here.”

His lips lift. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug.

“Okay.” His eyes go back to his computer screen.

“I like your glasses. They suit you.”

His response is a nod.

I scratch Gucci’s head, and she lets out a soft, “Baaahhh.”

“Whatcha doing?” I ask him.