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“And he agreed?” Her eyebrow rose in shock.
“Not at all. But you’ll convince him,” I said, bending down to pick up her robe.
“And if I don’t?”
“Sweetheart,” I leaned in, whispering in her ear. “Pick your battles with me carefully. I wouldn’t tell him to move your stuff over here if I didn’t already know you wanted to be here.”
“We haven’t been together for a full day yet, and I’m already under your spell,” she said softly.
“Good.”
Kissing her cheek, I walked around her toward the bathroom, my whole body so hot it felt like I was on fire.
That’s what she did to me.
She wasn’t under my spell. I was under hers.
Chapter Two
Amelia
I’d never met my father. My mother had told me so many different stories; he was an archaeologist she met while filming in Egypt, a famous street artist from the streets of Paris, a British officer who died in combat—the list could go on. Each time she told me a story, I was more focused on whether or not she really met and slept with all these men and less concerned about my father. I never really felt like I didn’t have a dad because of Ollie. For as long as I could remember, he had taken care of me. The reason my mother got me the gifts I actually wanted for my birthday or Christmas was because of Ollie. Whenever I was in trouble, Ollie always got me out of it as gracefully as possible. I never wanted to let him down. However, from the look he was giving me when I opened the door, I knew I had let him down. Big time.
“Morning,” I replied with a smile, mentally preparing myself for what he was going to say.
He inhaled deeply, opened his mouth to speak, but then just handed me a small duffle bag, along with my heels. “I’ll wait out here for you.”
“Ollie—”
“Try to hurry up, please. After yesterday, you can’t afford to be late. You have a busy day today,” he continued, backing away from the door like it was the gates of hell.
“I’ll be right out.” I frowned, closing the door.
Walking back into the bedroom, I stopped for a moment when I heard Noah start to sing “Livin’ on a Prayer” in the shower like he was a rock star. The grin on my face spread so wide my cheeks hurt. He was absolutely horrible, yet I didn’t want him to stop.
“Whoa-oa!” I started to sing along as I dressed in the bright yellow cocktail dress Ollie had brought me, though I wasn’t sure why since I was just going to change once I got on set.
Hearing the door open behind me, I turned to find him stepping out of the bathroom, a wall of steam behind him. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, allowing me to watch as drops of water dripped down his hard abs.
“Were you singing?” he asked as his eyebrow raised and the corners of his lips turned up.
“What? No,” I lied, turning back around to grab my heels.
“Liar,” he said, chuckling. “How was your talk with Oliver?”
“There wasn’t one,” I replied, tying my hair into a bun. “He’s waiting for me, so I’ll see you there.”
He nodded, and I kissed his cheek. I made a move to rush toward the doors when he took hold of my wrist, pulling me back slightly. Lifting my chin, he kissed me deeply, and as I leaned into him, he broke away.
“See you later.”
The butterflies in my stomach made it impossible for me to speak, but I couldn’t stop grinning. I felt sixteen again. Nodding, I spun around, heading to the doors, where Oliver was still waiting in the same exact same spot, scrolling through his smartphone.
“I’m ready.”
“Are you, though?”
“Ollie.”
