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Not that I would think about touching her body at all.
On an impulse, I let myself lean in just a little closer to her to see if she flinches. Nothing. Good. I reach out tentatively as if to put my hand on her leg — just a little gesture, something she can easily push away from — but before I can close the gap, she snorts in laughter again as the TV grabs her attention.
“They really did manage to get an awesome shot of you, huh?”
There I am on the screen, pants down and butt crack pixelated out as I stand on top of the poker table, chips scattered everywhere, my shirt hanging limply from my body like it’s struggling to stay on, a bottle of champagne in my raised left fist and dripping everywhere, and a woman wearing almost as little as I am in my other arm, pressed against me. The only good news is that my hand isn’t on her ass too.
For the first time in my life, someone laughing at me actually makes a hot flush of shame burst inside me.
I chuckle halfheartedly with her. “Yeah. We were on a real bender. And that’s why I’m in hiding.”
“I can see why,” she says, still teasing with her teeth bared. But my heart’s not in it anymore. I’m experiencing real regret and it’s a rock pressing down on my lungs. No wonder normal people don’t do crazy stuff like that if this is how they feel. The guilt is sour and unbearable.
And it’s ruined the mood, even if the mood had only been in my head. I’d been having a great time. As usual, I just had to go and spoil it. God, I sound like such a brat. No wonder she hates me. I flop back on the sofa and cover my face with my hands.
I’m expecting Anna to continue to taunt me, but she surprises me again by touching me gently on the shoulder and saying, “Hey, it’s okay. It was dumb and you definitely shouldn’t have done it and honestly, I think being grounded is pretty mild considering.”
I split my fingers to peer through them at her, my eyebrow raised. She shakes her head a little, getting her thoughts back on track. “But,” she continues, “This is Olympus. It’ll blow over soon. Celebrities are always doing dumb shit like this. You’ll be out of my life in no time, promise.”
She grins again and I grimace. I’m being crushed by the prospect of reality and I hate it.
And worse, I think I don’t want to be out of her life at all.
“Yeah. Anyway, I’m tired,” I say, standing up. “I guess I’ll just crash in Ben’s room.”
“Sounds good,” she says, getting up too and turning the TV off.
In sync, we start moving towards our rooms. “And don’t think I’m making your breakfast tomorrow,” she says, hesitating before we have to part. I’d shuffle closer to her except we’re already crossing that personal space for strangers boundary. If I let myself, I could kiss her now without taking another step.
If she would let me, I’d wrap my arms around her and carry her off to bed with me where I would trace every inch of her body with my hands and lips. If she’d let me, I’d make her feel so good.
“Guess I’ll cope,” I sigh, lifting my shoulders and letting them fall dramatically. The way her eyes twinkle when she smiles is so magical.
“Good night, Joel,” she says and finally breaks the spell, stepping away and turning towards her room.
“Good night, Anna,” I echo, watching her go all the way until she shuts the door behind her.
I am so going to dream about her tonight.
CHAPTER12
ANNA
Ismile politely at Joel when he stumbles into the kitchen. The dark circles under his eyes are getting bigger and I can’t help wondering if he had a bad night. Another bad night?
It’s been a few days and we might be friendly enough now that I’m not actively hiding in my room anymore, but there’s no way I’m getting personal enough with him to ask how he slept. That’s an emotion I don’t have time or energy for. Not when my email inbox is filling up with warning emails from banks and web hosting providers that I’ve been ignoring because I can’t bear to face them.
Every time I open my phone, I get punched in the face with yet another blow against every idea I’ve ever had. The universe is putting up flashing billboards telling me that I’m not cut out to be a success and I’m beginning to think it’s right.
“Morning,” Joel mumbles at me, dragging his feet as he heads towards the cupboard on a hunt for breakfast. He must have brought those slippers with him because Ben definitely doesn’t own anything so fluffy or bedazzled. “Ugh,” he says, opening the fridge. “We still don’t have milk?”
“Where do you think milk comes from?” I say, not looking up from my phone.
“Cows.” He’s so fast to reply that it makes me glance up to see him holding a bowl of dry cereal. “I’m not totally stupid.”
I raise my eyebrow. “Oh, so it just magically gets into the fridge from the cows when no one’s been grocery shopping in days?”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Okay, smart-ass. You’re not the one trapped in this house. How come you haven’t been out?”
