AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Bronte snapped a picture of Mason’s tiny butt covered in a onesie with a stitched pig’s tail, happy to concentrate on something that wasn’t the gnawing uncertainty in the back of her mind. She sent it to her best friends. Baby snugs.
Laney immediately sent back a few heart-eye emojis while Gem responded with her own picture of Willow lying on Jason’s bare chest.
Then everyone, including Bronte, sent all kinds of thirsty emojis and GIFs.
“Ooh. There he is.” Shelley turned up the volume.
On television, the hostess, a white woman with sleek blond hair, greeted him. “CJ Cunningham, so nice to see you.”
He was dressed in a dark charcoal tux with a maroon bow tie. His face was clean-shaven, save for those long sideburns, and his dark hair was brushed back off his face. He looked gorgeous.
It was the ultimate pain to know that millions of others were watching too. She wasn’t special, merely another one of his fans. She went from being able to touch and kiss him whenever she wanted to resorting to a nationally televised event to see him.
“He looks really good,” Shelley said in a squeaky voice, like she didn’t want to admit it.
“Who are you wearing tonight?” the woman asked Chris.
“Tom Ford.”
“I love this new look. You’re really working it.”
Bronte rolled her eyes.
“Thanks,” Chris said, not frowning but not really smiling either as he smoothed down his suit jacket. “I’m in the middle of filming.”
Bronte knew he hated these kinds of interviews. He hated talking about inane things like hair and clothing. He wanted to talk about what was important to him—the work.
“We have great weather here today,” the hostess said, leaning in close to him. “How are you enjoying yourself so far?”
He grinned and lifted his right arm, running his hand over his hair then chin, and Bronte remembered the last time that arm was wrapped around her.
She’d gotten pretty good at ignoring those memories, diving into assignments for her online master’s classes. She’d tire herself out enough so that when she laid her head down at night, she wouldn’t relive those very vivid memories of his body around hers, his voice at her ear, his hands on her skin.
The first time seeing him on something other than her laptop screen, and she had to be at her sister’s holding her nephew. Terrible planning on her part.
“Well, I met my idol, Robert Redford, tonight, and he didn’t run away screaming when I told him I was his biggest fan, so…”
The woman giggled, pressing her hand into his biceps, and Bronte wanted to crawl through the television and kick her.
“You mentioned you were in the middle of filming. Can you tell me anything about the new project?”
“Yeah, sure.” Chris scrubbed his hands together. “It’s a historical drama that takes place during the Gilded Age in New York City. My character has a bit of a sketchy past, and he runs into the daughter of a big business tycoon and falls in love. The story is really about her. Ruthie Van Acker has been so great, and Winston Charles, who plays her father, has been really welcoming. It’s awesome to be able to play opposite such wonderful actors and people.”
The interviewer nodded. “Well, I think it’s safe to say there are a lot of people out there excited to see you back on the big screen.” On cue, the camera panned to the fans in the stands and back as the hostess looked past him. “You didn’t bring a date with you tonight?”
Chris’s smile dropped. “No, not tonight.”
She gripped his arm. “Well, you look wonderful. I’m so glad you’re doing well and happy to know you’re back. When can we expect your movie to premiere?”
“Early next spring, I think.”
She smiled brightly. “Looking forward to it. Thanks for chatting with us, and good luck tonight.”
“Thanks.” He nodded and waved at the camera.
Shelley slowly faced Bronte, lowering the volume of the television. “You okay?”
Bronte sniffed, her nose and eyes stinging.
