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Sam escorted her to her door again, and she felt wildly out of control. She had to change the dynamic between them and she didn’t know how. She was juggling so much, trying to make everything turn out right for everyone, for him.
“Stop looking at me with those crazy-blue eyes of yours. It makes it impossible to resist you.”
His lips twitched slightly. “Good,” he whispered, and before she could stop him, his lips were softly touching hers. “Sorry, but it was killing me not to touch you. Now go rest. You look exhausted.” Then he was sauntering away again, just as sexy as ever.
“Stop telling me I look exhausted. That’s not nice.”
Sexy male laughter floated on the beach air. The sound mingled with the scent of his spicy cologne, and wrapped itself around her like a warm blanket of pure lusty need. She was never going to get any sleep. Worse. She was never going to resist Sam. The only way to avoid him would be to tick him off. She really didn’t think she had that in her.
* * *
“THE STUDIO CALLED,” Kiki said, in the kitchen the following morning. “The ratings for last night’s pre-live show were off the charts. The cyberworld is buzzing about the Tabitha, Carrie, Jensen triangle.”
“That’s great news,” Meagan said excitedly, filling a coffee mug. “That should ensure great ratings for tonight’s show. Did June say anything about how Sabrina reacted?”
“Oh, Sabrina’s assistant didn’t call,” she said. “Sabrina did.”
Sabrina. Sabrina had called Kiki. Her stomach knotted. Sabrina didn’t make those kinds of calls. June did. So maybe Kiki and Sabrina were tighter than she thought, than even Sam thought. She tried not to let that worry her. Kiki really was behaving. Meagan was meeting with a potential agent today, a big name with a lot of power, who swore he could negotiate her contract for next season now. Things were going to be fine. Things were fine.
“And you’re right,” Kiki agreed. “Last night’s ratings should ensure tonight’s. That’s exactly what Sabrina said, too.”
Meagan didn’t miss Kiki’s gloating. Kiki gloated. Meagan knew this. It meant nothing. Although, it was hard not to be paranoid, considering what she had found out about Kiki.
“Great,” Meagan said, hoping she sounded sincere as she dumped some French vanilla creamer in her cup. “I’m going straight to the theater to be sure we’re ready for tonight. I’ll see you at the rehearsal studio.”
With the contestants long gone, and Kiki with them, Meagan opened her car door to find a bag of chocolate and a note that read “someone I know told me that chocolate is the only medicine for nerves, Sam.”
She inhaled, emotion welling inside her. She grabbed the bag and opened it, climbed in her car and started eating. Who cared if it was seven in the morning? She needed this chocolate, and a part of her was starting to acknowledge how much she might just need Sam. Sam, who’d somehow managed to be there for her, without ever taking over her life, without once interfering where he wasn’t wanted.
Meagan pulled her car onto the highway, telling herself not to eat the entire bag of chocolate. Chocolate was her weakness, and apparently, so was Sam. Neither seemed like a bad thing right now. In fact, both were pretty darn good.
* * *
IT WAS EVENING, twenty minutes until Stepping Up went live for the first time, complete with an audience. And every time Sam had seen Meagan, she’d seemed more frazzled.
When he eventually located her backstage, she was in conversation with a tech guy, and it wasn’t going well.
“You yelled at two of my dancers right before they have to go on stage,” she said. “Okay, you’re under pressure here, we all are, but that doesn’t mean you can be rude.”
“I’m trying to fix the lights before the show starts,” he said, tapping his watch. “I have eighteen minutes. Seventeen by the time I finish this sentence.”
“Meagan,” Sam said, joining them. “Can I review a few last-minute security points before the show starts?”
She whirled on him. “Is there a problem? A security issue?”
“Everything is fine,” he assured her, promising himself he wouldn’t kiss away her fears no matter how tempting the idea. He was crazy about this woman—completely, insanely crazy for her, like he’d never imagined he’d be over a woman. “Walk with me.”
“Sam—”
“Walk with me, Meagan,” he repeated, adding a bit of push to the words he was sure would get him yelled at, especially when he turned and strolled away, with the assumption she would follow.
She did and he stopped behind a curtained-off area, much like a small room, used to enclose supplies.
