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When I was done, I unfolded the napkin to wipe my mouth. One word was written there:
Boo
Chapter Eleven: Tarryn
Exhausted, I took the stairs up to my trailer, feeling strangely old. Despite the tight security, I kept my door locked, so it took me a moment to fish my key out from beneath the leather I was wearing. It had been an early call time this morning and a long day of shooting. Yawning, I slid my hand over the dark interior wall searching for the light switch, reminding myself not to feel too sorry for myself, considering the crew had been on site hours before I’d shown up with my coffee offering for them.
Even so, as soon as I changed out of my fighting leathers, I was getting the hell out of here. Soaking in a hot bath sounded heavenly, but maybe I’d take a quick shower and go to bed. Hopefully, Valor wouldn’t be in a meeting. I hadn’t seen his face in more than 24 hours, and I wanted to video call him for a few minutes so I could remember he wasn’t imaginary. I didn’t even know what time it was other than dark, so I had no basis to do my now-automatic Prague-to-California time conversion.
I flipped the switch, and the light bulb over the doorpinked on. The plain navy dress I’d worn to get here this morning was draped over my makeup chair, where I’d tossed it on my way out. I would have preferred track pants, but the last time I’d left a shoot looking like a slob, of coursepaparazzi had been there waiting to pounce. Ugliest pictures ever. There’d been a brief buzz online about whether it was time for me to fire my personal trainer. When you were a public figure, people could be so rude. Thank god I wasn’t so famous that I couldn’t throw on a ballcap and go out to the market unbothered most days.
I stripped out of my leather fighting gear and laid it out on the table, then yanked the dress over my head. According to the mirror on the closet door, my hair and makeup were still more or less intact, even if the combination of hair products felt like layer upon layer of caked on, stiffened goop. Washing everything off was a treat at the end of the day.
“I almost didn’t recognize you.”
I shrieked and whirled around to find a large, shadowed man sitting on the sofa. The one light I had bothered to turn on didn’t reach into that corner, so all I had was an impression of jean-clad legs and broad shoulders.
“Who are you? What are you doing in here?” I stared into the gloom, my mind prompting me to scream, but the rest of me not wanting to jump the gun.
He leaned into the light.
Loïc?
Relief swamped me, followed by the sharp reminder that he’d jumped onto the hood of Valor’s car two days ago.
“God! You scared the crap out of me! What the hell are you doing here?”
He stood. In the relatively small space, he felt like a giant. The silver hoops in his ears gleamed, and he was wearing a black T-shirt that said ‘live, laugh, lurk’ in a creepy red font.
“Valor gave me your phone number, remember?”
I blinked at him, feeling the intensity of his gaze like a tractor beam.
“Usually that’s permission to call or text a person, not show up at their workplace halfway around the world from where you last saw them.”
“I thought I’d surprise you. Unfortunately, I think I may have succeeded a little too well.” He gave an apologetic smile. “Would you like me to leave?”
“I—” My belly fluttered. It was hard to sort out how much of that was the fear that he was more dangerous than he seemed, and how much was excitement that felt disloyal.
At the time, I’d been pissed at Valor for giving out my phone number to him, and also for inviting him to the hotel after the convention. Classic Valor. He was always doing things like that—thoughtful and thoughtless at the same time, like a golden retriever showing off his agility in a glass-blowing shop. Somehow, it had worked out to his advantage in business. He was likable and brilliant, and not afraid to take risks.
Weeks had passed. I’d assumed we wouldn’t hear from him again. Then he’d shown up to fuck with Valor.
Now, here he was.
In freaking Prague—or the surrounding countryside, anyway.
“You startled the hell out of me.”
He’d watched me change when I wasn’t aware he was there. Stupidly, the fact that I hadn’t been thinking about my posture at the time nagged at me. He’d already done more than seen me naked. If he didn’t like me the way I was, he wouldn’t be here.
“That was the idea.”
“Why didn’t you call first?” At least I was wearing cute underwear.
He shrugged. “I don’t like phones.”
“You do have one, don’t you?”
