AllFreeNovel
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I’m a hypocrite. I don’t even like him, but I can’t stop looking at the slice of tanned skin between his shirt and his waistband.
Sitting, he grabs the hem of his shirt like he’s going to pull it over his head. “If you need a better view, I’m happy to...”
I back up, my face on fire. “Do you need a semi to transport that ego?”
“Nah. It fits in a Hummer.” His teasing laugh sends shivers over the burn that’s spreading to my neck and chest.
“You’re wrinkling my clothes.”
Unfazed, he pulls a sundress from the pile and hands it to me. “You should wear this.”
“You should go to your room.” I cross my arms.
“Just trying to help.” He drops the dress.
“Then you can do the signing without me.” There’ll be hundreds of people in a too-small space asking questions I don’t want to answer about the relationship Gabriel and Iaren’thaving, the book I’mnotwriting, and the book Ishouldn’thave written. My wrist itches. I scrape three nails across the already irritated skin, flinching at the sting.
“If you want to avoid a skin graft, you may want to quit doing that.”
I pick up the black skirt, trying to match it in my head with the flats in the bottom of my suitcase. I’m only wearing flats from now on.
“You have a thing against being in front of crowds, huh?” He kicks his shoes off onto the floor and gets more comfortable.
“Not all of us are super-extroverts. Not all of us want to be famous.” Or noticed.
“Yeah, well I never really wanted to be famous. That’s on my... mom.” The way his voice snags on the last word is barely noticeable as he props himself on his elbows and studies me. His focused gaze sends a restless current of energy racing up my spine. “What bothers you most about being in front of people?”
I let go of the skirt. “Besides thebeing in front of peoplepart?”
“I can help with your spotlight phobia.”
“Don’t you have to change?” I don’t tell him he looks good in whatever he’s wearing. Or that he doesn’t really need a shower because he already smells too good. I’m trying not to think about that.
“Offering help is self-preservation. You’re wound so tight, when you spring you’re gonna take out anyone standing too close.”
“Then get your own table tonight.” I squeeze my wrist.
He glances out the window.
“Gabe.” I shorten his name before I realize what I’m doing.
His attention snaps back. “You called me Gabe.”
I steel my voice. “I also told you to get your own table.”
“I don’t think that’s the point of me coming.” He rolls off my bed and stretches again, showing more skin I don’t need to see. “Feeling confident just takes a few tricks.” He tugs his hem down.
“For you.” While part of me is busy hating on his constant state of confidence, some of me covets his composure. Most of me wants to take back that first impulsive three-am post on DigitalReads. Then I wouldn’t be here.
“Jess?” Voice low and deep, Gabriel steps into me. “I’ll tell you a secret about me you won’t read in any interview.”
My move is evasive. “If it’s related to your underwear preferences, I’ll pass.”
“Nope.” He shoves his hair off his forehead. “Heights freak the shit out of me, and the show’s writers have a thing about staging fight scenes in high places. For me, it’s all about getting into a mental safe place before we shoot. If I believe I’m safe, I feel safe. If I feel safe, I act like I’m safe.”
“Have much experience as a mental patient?”
“Only in a TV movie.” He slides behind me. “Feeling safe works the same for crowd anxiety. Your safe place puts insulation between you and them.” His warm breath against my neck makes me shake like I’m cold when I’m really on fire.
