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"Just one picture!"
"I'm your biggest fan!"
"Please follow me back on Twitter!"
Finally, when I was in and the door closed, I took a deep breath and leaned into my seat.
"So if you fly out tonight, you can be in—"
"Austin, I'm tired. I just want to go home tonight."
"What about—"
"I’ll call Noah and let him know." While I had come back to Los Angeles for two weeks, Noah was in New York. Now that shooting had wrapped up, we both had other work to do before we had to go on the full promotional tour for the movie. Austin spent most of his days flying back and forth between us—how he managed to juggle everything was beyond me. However, I couldn’t complain. Reaching for my phone, I dialed Noah’s number. However, it went straight to voicemail—and that was the second time today.
I didn’t want to be one of those girls … but would it kill him to at least text?
“He’s in the studio working on voiceover work. You know they turn their phones off so it doesn’t interfere with anything, right?” Austin asked.
“I know.”
“Then why do you look annoyed at your phone?”
“Smartass,” I muttered, and he chuckled.
Ignoring him, I glanced out the window. There was something odd about being here after returning from Chicago. I was born here, but now, something felt off, and no matter how much I had thought about it, I couldn’t put my finger on it.
Finally, when the car stopped after we entered the private garage of T
he Tower, my bodyguard opened the door.
"Nolan, thanks, but I'm okay." They weren't really needed anymore. The Tower was home to some of the most famous people in the world. It was easier to get into the White House than it was to get in here.
"Amelia, we don’t want a repeat of the last incident. Let them go up and check the place.” The incident he was referring to was one crazy fan who hid in a bathroom trashcan just to take photos of me—a fucking trashcan.
“It’s The Tower. I’ve lived here for years, and no one has gotten through,” I said as politely as possible, moving towards the elevator.
"Just text me when you’re in."
"Fine," I called out as the doors closed. And just when I thought he was less overprotective than Oliver.
"Thank you." I tipped the elevator attendant as I got off on my floor.
"Thank you, ma'am," he said as the doors closed.
Stepping into my flat, I grinned at the mixtures of pink: still my favorite color. Taking my shoes off right at the door, I froze, noticing a tub of vanilla icing sitting on my counter along with a silver spoon.
"I could tell you were craving some."
My head whipped around to him so fast it might have fallen off had it not been attached. He stood there, in jeans and a simple button-down shirt, just staring back at me.
"Noah!" I grinned, running to him. He caught me as I jumped on him and he kissed me just as hard as I kissed him. There was so much I wanted to say to him, but right now, I just wanted to be with him.
His hands ripped at my dress as he walked us to the bedroom. Without a second thought, he threw me onto the bed, peeling the rest of my dress off.
"You looked beautiful tonight," he muttered, kissing up my stomach.
"You were watching?"
