“Micah,” Sam said as Maddie turned away and fumbled with her pants. “Beaumont’s looking for you to go through those shots.”
“Yeah?” Micah stepped in between Sam and Maddie, shielding her as she straightened herself.
It almost made her laugh. She’d left visible scratches on his still bare chest and he was hiding her for propriety’s sake?
Besides, his action didn’t impress her. She was hot for him, yes, but with the passion of the moment gone, her anger returned full force, rolling through her like an avalanche. What the fuck was she doing kissing the man who had screwed with her on set? Did she have zero self-respect? Had her usual professional demeanor disappeared just because Micah had some sort of magnetic pull on her vagina?
No more. She had said this before, but now she meant it. She had to mean it if she wanted to keep working in her field. First thing tomorrow she would lodge a complaint. Not that Beaumont would care, but if she told Joe, maybe he could control his actor. She grabbed her shirt off the ground and brushed past Sam and Micah.
“Hold on a minute, Sam. Maddie!” She kept walking and Micah called again. “Maddie!”
She didn’t turn around, couldn’t turn around, but put her hand out to her side in a wave as she continued walking away from the trailers, away from the heart-crushingly gorgeous man behind her.
Thirteen
Micah crouched in the trees, watching as Maddie ran up the road by his hotel. He’d spotted her when she was still a speck at the bottom of the hill and knew it was her, recognized the movement of her body from seeing her run around on set. He watched through the dark lenses of his sunglasses, enraptured as she neared him, her firm legs striding easily up the hill, her breasts bouncing rhythmically in her light blue sports bra. His cock stiffened at the sight. Fuck. That was going to make his next move real uncomfortable.
After she passed him he counted to three before he pulled his baseball cap lower on his head and jogged to catch up with her.
“Hey,” he said when he’d reached her side.
She pulled her ear buds out and looked at him. Realizing who he was, she jolted. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Yeah, she was pissed. He knew she was. He’d tried to find her before he left set the night before with no success. He’d called her cell phone. No answer. He’d called her room. Again, no answer. When he awoke that morning he had tried again. Still no answer. She was avoiding him. Why was he surprised? He had seriously fucked up with his behavior on set.
He had to talk to her, had to apologize, and since she was avoiding him, he’d have to resort to other methods. Including running. “What? I’m just getting some exercise. Enjoying the scenery.”
“Then you can do it someplace far away from me.” She looked both ways down the street then started toward the other side.
“Wait.” He grabbed her wrist.
Yanking her arm away, Maddie turned on him, venom in her voice. “Don’t touch me!”
“Sorry, sorry!” Her response to him—as if his touch was loathsome—felt like a knife in his chest. “I’m sorry. I need to talk to you. This is the only way I knew how.”
She shook her head, her jaw set firm. She didn’t speak but resumed running her original course.
Micah took that as a good sign and fell into a run beside her. As he adjusted to her stride —a punishing pace at this altitude—he tried to think of what to say. He had thought the right words would just come, that he’d be able to explain his actions. But now that he was with her, all he could think about was what had happened after the shoot, when her body was beneath his and his mouth and hands were everywhere on her.
And then she was gone, leaving him with her scent in his nose and a hard-on in his pants. When he spoke, that was what he asked about. “What happened?”
“When? When you fucked with my focuses?”
Even though she didn’t look directly at him, he felt the daggers in her eyes. She had been mad last night too, but then they had kissed and so much more—didn’t that mean anything?
“Did you really think that groping me against your trailer changed that you pretty nearly lost me my job?”
Shit, did she just read his mind? Truth was he’d hoped that kiss changed everything. Obviously not. He had to come clean. “Okay.” He spoke in short sentences, the only way he could speak as they climbed the mountain. “I missed my mark.”
“On purpose?”
He didn’t do it on purpose, at first. It was dark and he was distracted, as usual, by Maddie, who was ignoring him. So missing it was a natural mistake. But after that… He lowered his eyes. “Yes. I missed it on purpose.” There. He’d confessed. Why was that so hard? She already knew. “I’m sorry.”
She stopped running, her ponytail hitting her in the face as she spun on him. “You’re sorry?” She stepped toward him, hands balled at her hips. “That’s all you have to say?”
He raised his brows. “I’m very sorry?”
She whipped away from him and started walking up the mountain road. “You’re such an ass. You ask me to respect your career but you can’t respect mine?”
Man, she was hot when she was angry. Hotter than anyone had a right to be.
He followed her, grateful for the easier pace. “I know, I know. It was shitty.”
She didn’t speak and he felt helpless in her silence. He wished to God he could take back his actions, wished he could go back to—to what? Avoiding her? Ignoring her? Chasing her?
He’d been a shit to her all around. He removed his glasses and hung them on his shirt. “I’m really very sorry,” he said softly.
She glared at him sideways. “Why?”
He creased his brow. “Why am I sorry?”
“Why did you do it?” She swallowed and he suspected she was choking back a sob. “That was one of the absolute meanest things anyone’s ever done to me.”
His heart dove into his stomach. He could deal with her anger, but her pain tore him to pieces. “I know. God, Maddie, I know.” He ran his hand through his hair trying to divert the frustration at himself into the action. He had hurt her. Fuck! Hurt her bad.
He hadn’t given her a reason and she was waiting. “I don’t know why.”
Actually he did know why. He saw how his mistake affected her. How an easy little change in his blocking got her up-in-arms and made her pay attention to him. He knew she was getting heat for it, that he was messing with her in a way that was not only unprofessional, but also seriously shitty. But he couldn’t help himself. He craved her attention, and he’d take it any way he could. “I guess I wanted you to notice me.”
She glared at him full on. “Notice you? You narcissistic little fucker.” She turned her attention back to the road in front of her. After several steps she said, “Like I’m not completely one hundred percent aware of your presence at any given moment?”
He grinned. “You are?”
“Don’t,” she snapped. “Don’t be cute.”
He erased the glee from his face and took a deep breath. “Look, you’d been ignoring me all week. And after the night with your movie, I thought maybe things would be different since, you know, we’d talked and…”
“And for once you didn’t try to get down my pants?”
Well…“Yes.”
“Wow, you deserve some sort of award for that. Were you pissed that I didn’t acknowledge your accomplishment?”
“No, Maddie, I’m pissed that I can’t be with you.” He stopped walking, stunned at his honesty. She stilled too but didn’t face him, which was for the best. It was easier to say what he needed to without the anger shooting from her gaze.
“Maddie, I want you more than anything. I am so…” What? He searched for the words. “Turned on by you. All of you, your mind, your art.” He moved his eyes down her form. “Your body. It’s killing me that you won’t give me the time of day.”
She rolled her eyes. “I bet it’s a first for you.”
“Yes.”
She shook
her head and resumed running.
He followed, thinking about what he’d just said. “I mean...” He wasn’t used to women saying no to him, but that wasn’t why he liked her. “I’m not attracted to you,” he panted, “because you keep turning me down,” he panted again, the increasing incline making it hard to carry a conversation. “If that’s what you’re insinuating.” A stitch dug in his side. He put his hand on his waist to ease the ache. “Hey, can we just…walk?”
Maddie knit her brow. “What’s the matter with you?”
“I’m…” God, this was embarrassing. “I’m not a great runner. “
“What do you mean? You’re totally in shape. See? I notice you.”
He bit back a smile. “I strength train. And I run on a treadmill. A treadmill that’s totally flat.”
“That’s lame.” She sighed, slowing her pace. “I guess walking is fine. Though I enjoyed seeing you struggle.” Her lips curved slightly.
“I deserve that.” Her candor made him hopeful. He continued in her path of truthfulness. “But trust me I’m always struggling around you.”
The smile that had hinted before now settled on her face.
Good. They were making progress. Though they still had miles to go. “I feel horrible about last night. I’m buried under the weight of regret, Maddie, and I don’t know how to come up for air.” He paused, uncomfortable with how exposed he felt. “I was an asshole. I can’t bear that it might mean I never have another chance with you. What can I do, baby?” The endearment was a slip but he didn’t regret it when he saw the pleased glimmer in her eye.
“Tell Beaumont,” she said without hesitation.
“Of course. I’ll tell him tonight.”
“He isn’t on set tonight. He’s out for some Beaumont-y thing. Joe’s running the shoot.”
“Then I’ll tell Joe.”
She pinned him with her stare. “No, it has to be Beaumont.”
“Then I’ll tell him first thing the next time I see him. I swear to God.”
“And promise to never ever do anything like that again.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.” Never. He would never hurt her like that again, not on purpose.
“Okay.” She relaxed. “All right. Thank you.”
Micah let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. They walked in silence for several seconds while he gathered up his courage to say what he had to say next. “But, Maddie, that won’t fix everything. We have to deal with this.” He waved his hand back and forth between them. “With whatever is going on between us. Because it’s not going away.” He returned the scowl she gave him. “Don’t look at me like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And what exactly do you propose? Just fuck and get it over with?”
His balls throbbed at the suggestion of sex. “I was going to say one date, but, yeah.”
She shook her head, her ponytail catching on her shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m listening to this.”
He exhaled slowly, worried that he was losing ground.
She turned on him before he could formulate a new plan. “Why me, Micah? If it’s not my repeated no’s that have you intrigued, what is it? Why not one of the million other girls you know that would kill for a night with you? Why me?”
That question. God, it was impossible to answer. He’d asked himself the same thing over and over since the airport and hadn’t come up with anything he could quite explain.
But now, for her, because she needed to know, he tried. “You remember that night?” He waited for her to nod. “Back then you liked me. At least, I think you did. And it wasn’t because I had money or a big name. It was me.”
He shook his head, not believing how completely exposed he was making himself for her. For a woman.
But as scary as it was, he wanted to be that exposed. “Now, when I’m kissing you, I’m kissing her—the woman who wanted to kiss that no-name-guy-from-the-wrap-party. And you don’t seem to give a shit about the Micah Preston stuff.”
“That was a wrap party? Huh. I had no idea.” She kicked at the gravel with her toe, her eyes fixed on the ground.
It drove him crazy that she wasn’t looking at him, that he couldn’t read her features, couldn’t see what she was thinking. “Yeah. For a Davenport film I’d just finished.”
“Hmm.” Finally she met his eyes. “Micah, that’s a really sweet sentiment. And I’m sure I can’t even begin to understand what it’s like for you. But I didn’t even know you back then. Yes, I was attracted to you for reasons that weren’t about fame or money. You were charming and adorable and, well, so freakin’ hot.”
He grinned like he always did when she stated her attraction to him.
“But it was one night. A brief night a long time ago. If you want to know if I’m really into you, the real you under all that other stuff, then you’d have to give me a chance to get to know you. Because I don’t. I don’t know you.”
Her words punched him in the gut. Right. She didn’t know him. And he’d been wrapped up with this idea that she did, that she saw him for who he really was.
Yet, instead of taking her truth and running like he usually did, he found himself asking, “Do you want to?”
“After what you pulled? I’m not sure.”
But she was still standing there talking to him. There had to be something he could say or do to make it work. “If I hadn’t been such an idiot, if I hadn’t fucked it up royally, what would it take to be with you?”
“It would take you being willing to be with me. I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to become my boyfriend. Or for you to be seen with me in the press. I’d just want a chance to see. See what happens, you know? Spend time together without any presumptions or preconceived notions of what we will or won’t be.”
“Spend time together…would that include time in and out of bed?”
She rolled her eyes. “You are such a horndog.”
“These days? Just for you.” His grin disappeared as he digested what she’d said. And though his next question tumbled out without much thought, he knew as he asked that it was exactly what he wanted. “I can’t take back yesterday, but if you thought you might be able to forgive me, and if I said okay, that I’d be willing to spend time with you without any presumptions or preconceived notions, would you give us that chance to see?”
Confusion and uncertainty crossed her face as she bit her upper lip.
Maybe it was too much to expect, for her to forgive him that completely. But he wanted so much for that chance, he had to ask. “At least consider it.” He took her hand.
“I told you not to touch me,” she grumbled, but she kept her hand in his. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He was sure his eagerness came off as nothing short of pathetic. Whatever. He’d rather be pathetic than without her.
“Okay, I’ll consider it.” She peered at him with intense brown eyes. “But you have to promise to respect whatever I decide.”
“Yes, of course.” He stroked her hand with his thumb, enjoying the vibrations that traveled through his nerves at the touch of her soft skin.
She stared at their joined hands as if trying to decide if his caress was pleasant or painful. “Why does it feel like I’ve already decided this a million times?”
“Maybe you keep making the wrong decision.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” she said, her voice laced in sarcasm.
They walked in silence, hands entwined, for several minutes, long enough for Micah to pretend they were an ordinary couple out for a lovers’ stroll. It felt…nice. Surreal, but nice. He wondered if she felt the same. “What are you thinking?”
She sighed. “I hate you.”
“Say that again,” he said, throwing the next line in the scene they had read together.
She smiled, catching his reference. Then she said the next line. “I hate you.”
Did she want him to continue? If they kept this up, it would lead to a kiss. Did she want that
kiss? If his lips were on hers, she wouldn’t resist him. He knew it.
But he didn’t want to bully her anymore. So he dropped the scene. “I know,” he said. “I hate me too.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“You’re going to break me,” she whispered, repeating what she’d said to him at the movie theater.
But she was wrong. “You’re the one who’s going to break me.” She would. He knew it now. She was going to break him into so many pieces he wouldn’t be able to recognize himself.
And he was totally looking forward to it.
Fourteen
Maddie had always been sure. Sure of what to do with her life, sure of who she was as a person. Sure of everything.
The first time she’d really experienced a crack in her confidence had been several years ago when she’d interned for Joss Beaumont. He’d shown interest in her as a director and invested in a project of hers, a short film that she’d written. He had left all the details to her and when the still-inexperienced and fresh-from-school Maddie had overspent and failed to finish the film on budget, he tore her apart.
“You’re untalented and incompetent,” he’d screamed at her after watching the footage she did have. “You will not work in this town as a director again.”
He wouldn’t give her the money she needed to finish her film and, since his investment contract gave him full rights, he refused to let her finish it at all. Maddie had worked on that movie for two years, pouring her heart and soul into every frame only to see it get shelved, never to be viewed in the glory she’d envisioned.
A year or so later, when she’d recovered from the blow and began work on another film idea, she sought investors—people who could help her produce a decent movie. True to his word, Beaumont made sure the major players in the city knew his disrespect for Maddie and door after door was shut in her face. She learned the hard way that blacklisting wasn’t just an urban legend. Either that or she really was untalented and incompetent. Self-doubt overtook her and she eventually gave up. She took up working as Adam’s assistant instead and followed him from set to set, becoming a skilled and unflappable focus-puller. Yeah, she still tinkered with ideas, filming and editing as a hobby, but never letting dreams of career directing cross her mind again.
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