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After silencing my phone, I strip my clothes off, dropping them on the floor as I walk straight into my shower, turning the water all the way up until it’s scorching my skin. You’d think I ran a marathon today with how sore my legs are. Or lifted weights the way my shoulders feel strained.
Nope. Just ran around making sure everything was ready for Steve before he screamed at me the way he screamed at Celia most of the day. I was starting to feel bad for her until she had a break in shooting and decided to disappear with her partners in crime—Zoe, who’s playing Celia’s best friend in the movie, and Kate—only to return half wasted, thirty minutes late for her call time.
She lost all my sympathy and Steven lost the last of his patience. Assuming he had any to begin with.
Once I’m done with my shower, I braid my long, wavy hair off to the side, crawl under the covers, and practically melt into my mattress. It feels like I’m seconds from falling asleep when I hear my alarm sound. Reaching for my phone to silence the ear-splitting noise, I take note of the time and groan.
How is already time to get up for work?
I won’t be able to continue at this rate. Fourteen to sixteen hours days. A forty-five-minute drive each way. Five days a week. My days off will be spent with me in a coma in bed.
When my backup alarm goes off ten minutes later, I finally roll out of bed and shuffle into the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee. An hour and a half later, I’m walking through the doors to find a pissed off Ansen waiting for me.
“You’re late,” Steve states firmly as I hand him his large, black coffee with two raw sugars. “Hand out the call sheets and get back here. There’s a list of things I need done today before lunch.”
With Celia’s coffee in one hand, and my caramel cappuccino in the other, I rush across the backlot to where the trailers are situated outside of studio B. Knocking on Celia’s door, I don’t wait for her to answer. She’s standing in the middle of the kitchen, her hair looking like a rat’s nest on top of her head, black mascara smears under both of her eyes. When she spots the coffee in my hand, she snags it and tips it back. As soon as the thick caramel flavor hits her tongue, her eyes widen in surprise, and she spits it out in the sink next to her.
“What the hell is this?” she demands, dumping my coffee down the sink before I can protest.
“That was my coffee.”
“Gross.” Dropping the empty paper cup in the sink, she takes her coffee from my other hand and takes a hesitant sip. Her smile is irritating as she lets out a sigh. “That’s good coffee.”
Rolling my eyes, I dig her call sheet out of my bag, set it on the counter, and leave as another elongated sigh escapes her lips.
Bitch.
Trotting next door, I knock on Eli’s trailer. The third time I knock he finally answers, and when I catch sight of him, Hayden’s text is all I can think about as I feel my knees start to weaken.
Sneak a pic and send it to us.
Unlike Celia, Eli appears bright and cheery this morning. The basketball shorts he’s wearing are slung low on his hips, the band of his boxer briefs teasing my eyes. His dirty blond hair is slightly messy, as if he ran his fingers through it in an attempt to tame it, failing miserably. And his eyes … those pale blues I could get lost in, they’re smiling at me.
Stay away, I remind myself. Guys like him are bad news. They take you for the ride of your life and then leave you with a broken heart. I tried to give myself a pep talk on the way in this morning, but I kept getting distracted by visions of me licking every ridge of his defined abs.
The same visions that are currently dancing through my mind, causing desire to stir between my legs.
“Good morning,” he says, crossing his arms over his bare chest, his muscles flexing, causing my breath to hitch as he casually leans against the door frame.
“Hey. Call sheet,” I spit out, my eyes finding his again.
“Thanks. You got a sec?” Standing to his full height, Eli steps to the side and motions for me to come in.
Yes. For you I have as many seconds of my time as you need. For whatever you want them for.
Damn it. I need to get myself under control. Focus. Block him out. Ignore the dirty thoughts that creep in and the way his voice causes a shiver to run up my spine.
“No, I actually don’t. Sorry. I’ll see you on set.”
Being alone with Eli is not something I can handle right not. Not this early in the morning. Not before I’ve had copious amounts of coffee. And definitely not after the messages Austin and Hayden sent me yesterday. Which reminds me, I still have to read what else they sent me after I stopped responding.
HAYDEN: She’s avoiding the topic. He must be as hot as I think he is.
AUSTIN: We should plan a visit soon. You can show us around the set, right, Tay?
HAYDEN: She’s not going to answer. She’s too scared.
AUSTIN: Maybe not scared but intimidated. I’ve heard Eli is one of those guys that makes smart girls act stupid.
