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“Forget it.”
“You’re not the easiest person to read anymore. You’re guarded, even with me,” Audrey points out, her eyes meeting mine with a scrutiny that makes me uncomfortable.
I feel a pang of guilt. She's nailed it. My shoulders slump.
“You’re right,” I admit, my voice tinged with vulnerability as I lift my eyes back to hers. “I’m sorry for snapping. I was frustrated seeing you talking to Kaiden, but I have no right to feel that way.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. There’s a long silence as Audrey processes my words.
“I forgive you.” Audrey pulls away. “But next time, talk to me before you jump to conclusions.”
The heat from the stage lights causes sweat to break out over my skin. I stick a finger in my collar to loosen it and let in fresh air. The prickly feeling works its way to my chest, making it uncomfortably tight.
I shift my stance, shoving my hands into my pockets to stop myself from doing something reckless—like pressing her against the nearest wall and tasting her pouty pink lips.
Instead of confessing my undying love, I fill two cups with coffee and hand one to her.
“You're a lifesaver,” she says, taking it.
Our fingers brush. My dick responds. Why did it have to spring to life now? Audrey quickly glances away.
“The set looks festive. All that glitter,” I remark, kicking myself for the lame attempt at small talk.
Her dark eyes sparkle.“I agree. What are you doing for Christmas?”
I pause. I consider conjuring up a sob story for a split second, but she’s already called me out on my drama, so I squash the impulse. “Low-key affair for me,” I say.
“That's a shame.” Her voice is gentle. “The holidays are meant for sharing with the people we love.”
“I suppose you’re spending the holidays with,” I cough, choking on her fiancé’s name like it's laced with arsenic.
The air between us thickens, filling with tension you could cut with a knife.
Behind us, Dan, the Key Grip, toots the horn of a golf cart loaded with equipment and props. Dan parks the cart and heads toward us, holding a box filled with decorations.
Oblivious to having interrupted our conversation, he cuts in. “Hey, boss. I asked Julianna about the snow fight scene, but she suggested I ask you,” he says.
Audrey dips her head, permitting me to deal with the interruption. As I answer Dan's questions, I watch her out of the corner of my eye. She’s distracted.
My gut twists with unease. What is she hiding?
I expect Dan to leave when I answer his questions, but he plucks a sprig of mistletoe from the box. Holding it above Audrey's head, he says, “What are you waiting for? It’s Christmas.”
Audrey looks at me, one brow arched high—an invitation.
The urge to thread my fingers through her hair and tip her head back so I can kiss her full, pink lips is overwhelming.
I want to feel every inch of her body. Bite her. Mark her. Fuck her so damn hard she'll scream my name as she falls apart. Despite my desires, the urge to protect her is stronger—and always will be.
“Dan, show some respect. Audrey's practically a married woman.”
“Easy, boss. It was only a bit of fun.”
“Yeah, well, take your mistletoe somewhere else.”
Dan grumbles but hurries back to the golf cart and drives away. I shouldn't push my luck, but need to think up a reason to spend more time together—the two of us. Some quick rehearsal time alone, maybe a late night planning scenes.
I grab Audrey's hand, giving it a brief squeeze.She leans in, her lips tantalizingly close, like she’s going to kiss me.
