No, I had to think about more than what my hormones wanted. Falling into bed with him would be easy. It’s the falling out that would take me down.
Chapter Nineteen
The next day was awkward as all hell. The universe must have whispered to the person setting the schedule because it was a short but busy day for Shaun on set, which meant that by 1PM he was done and I was free. I kept myself locked in the trailer – an uncomfortable experience, let me tell you – while he cemented himself to the set. We said hello in the morning, bye in the afternoon, and each time I ignored the burn of his stormy gaze on my face. Then we went home, alone.
The following day was Sunday, which meant a break in the schedule. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier for a day off. We’d have a day apart, he’d realise I was right and on Monday morning, it would all go back to normal.
Minus the lust.
If I could make myself forget the lust.
That part of the impromptu plan hadn’t gone right either. If I’d tossed and turned with the prospect of what if, knowing that “if” was far worse. The sound of his groans played on a boomerang reel in my head.
I needed to spend the day doing things. However, I had no idea what those things were. Maybe I’d brave cleaning the kitchen. Maybe I’d go white-water rafting. Maybe I’d drive to Cornwall for the day and visit my parents. There had to be something that would distract me enough to bury any thoughts of Shaun.
Answering my door to said man at 8AM had not been a part of the slowly forming plan.
“What are you doing here?” My tone sounded less than welcoming. I hadn’t even showered, my hair probably stood on end and, yet again, all I wore was pyjama shorts and a tank top.
Silence reigned as his eyes devoured all my exposed skin. It made me want to both strip off and cover myself. I frowned instead. When his focus returned to my face, he cracked a grin like nothing had changed and breezed past me into the flat.
“Honestly, I’m hurt!” He held his hand to his heart. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and waited.
“Fine. I brought you these.” He held out a bundle of papers he’d wound into a tight baton. I stared at it, perplexed. He brought me paper? “Take them. They won’t bite.”
Bewildered, I accepted the baton. It unwound in my hands to reveal flat listings, most of them in the Bay area and studios – and a few circled. The prices also turned me kind of sick. I mean, I could afford it. He was paying me well, so that wasn’t the issue. But for the price of a studio in Cardiff Bay, I’d been able to rent a two-bedroom flat with a living room while studying in Edinburgh. Why the hell would I pay more for a studio than a flat in a historical building?
“Why did you bring me listings?”
“Why the fuck are you living in this dump?”
“Why does it matter?”
“It looks bad.”
“Bad for who, exactly?” I said, my words measured. “Me or you? And why do people involved with you need to know where your assistant lives?”
“They don’t, but if anyone found out, they’d think I wasn’t paying you properly.”
“And that’s my problem because…?” I asked, my hands falling to my hips.
If the cutting look he threw my way was anything to go by, he didn’t appreciate my sarcasm.
“Why are you arguing? You hate this place.” He gestured to the papers. “I arranged a few viewings already.” Before I could groan in protest, he continued. “Just look at them. That’s all I ask.” He tried to placate me, but I wasn’t fooled. The man was a master at getting his way. Damn actors.
“Maybe another day. I have plans.”
He froze, now a standard reaction for him. Caught doing something he shouldn’t? Freeze. Doesn’t like an answer? Freeze.
“I thought you didn’t know anyone in Cardiff yet?”
“I know the crew.” And he’d been out with me and Tilly, how quickly men forget.
“Did one of them ask you out?”
My eyebrows lifted at that. “And what if one of them did?”
“I just don’t think you should get involved with the people you work with.” He frowned, shaking his head. “I mean, in terms of the crew.” The intimate way his eyes trailed over me tried to make a point, tried to tell me we were perfectly fine and exempt. “It could get awkward.”
“Like this conversation,” I muttered before stomping into my bedroom to find clothes and a towel. He wasn’t going anywhere. The man was stubborn, and if I wanted any time to myself, I’d see the flats and ditch him later.
I paused, clutching a top to my chest. I could do this. I could pretend everything was perfectly normal and nothing had happened. My ability to do my job depended on it.
With my arms full of fabric, I turned to find Shaun lurking in the doorway. His eyes bounced between my unmade bed and me with a dazed deer-in-headlights sheen. His fists clenched at his sides, and the memory of his fingers digging into my hips as he drove into me surged to the surface.
“Give me a good reason why you choose to live here and I’ll leave it,” he promised, his eyes fixed on a point beyond my shoulder.
“There are so many things I could do with that money. Paying extortionate rent isn’t one of them.”
He frowned. “What else would you do with it?”
“I don’t know. Save to buy a house? Start a business? Anything but squander it on rent in a temporary city.” I walked towards him, and his eyes met mine. Lust clouded them briefly before he locked it down and started studying the ceiling.
“That’s very sensible of you.”
“Surprised?”
He nodded. “I shouldn’t be.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as I approached, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away. “What business would you start?”
“I have no idea. I still haven’t figured out what I want to do with my life.” Although my conviction that production would make a nice interim career was growing.
“Well, let’s start with fixing your living situation and I’ll see what I can do about your life-goals issues later.”
I didn’t detect an ounce of teasing in his expression. He seriously believed he could fix my problems. Most men ran a mile the moment they sniffed out so much as an ounce of work. The fact he cared enough to want to help warmed my heart. It shouldn’t have – I didn’t need or want the help – but that didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate it for a moment before snuffing it out. It was such a rarity. Had I given up a unicorn?
He backed away from the doorway with a sweet, knowing smile, and some insane part of me melted.
“I’ll see the flats, but I’m warning you now: It’s a waste of time. I’ve got something lined up.”
“Do I want to ask for details, or is it going to piss me off?”
Holding the towel and clothes close to my chest, I crossed the living room, trying my hardest to ignore his presence. My fingers itched to pull him into the bathroom, but I bit my tongue before I could offer up my shower. You said no repeats. Don’t be a tease.
“Tilly offered me her spare room.”
Shaun’s brows puckered. He had no idea who Tilly was. Sometimes he was a blank slate, but he was becoming easier to read by the day.
“She’s the wardrobe assistant. She came to Axel’s with us.” I’d meant it when I said the crew didn’t expect him to know their names. Hadn’t thought he was actually beating himself up with it, though.
“You’d rather share a space with a stranger than have your own flat?” he said, his words slow and measured as he tried to decipher my logic.
“She’s not a stranger anymore, and I mean, she forgave me for nearly throwing coffee over her costumes.” I shrugged. Shaun’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s not an interesting story. She seems nice, nicer than this lot.” I gestured to the four closed doors surrounding the central living space.
I’d fully vet all housemates before agreeing to rent a room in future – lesson learned. Nothing I co
uld do about it now except move out. I’d only been in the city for four weeks, but, oh boy, did they make a month feel like a lifetime. None of them worked, from what I could tell, but then, they didn’t speak to me, so I couldn’t be sure.
Given they spent most weeknights out on the town and noisily crashed in the front door as I left for early call times, I couldn’t imagine any of them had jobs. Can you fathom the sleep deprivation? No thank you.
“View the flats and we’ll talk,” Shaun said, his face set in serious lines that would have dissuaded the average person from arguing. He should have realised by now that I was not the average person.
I left him in the living room to stew while I showered. I did not suggest he join me, although I really wanted to.
What the hell was wrong with me? I’d said no. Me. Not him. I was the one stopping us from having sweaty fun, and my reasons were sound. I needed to stop thinking about it, to consider what it might feel like to ignore all the risks.
Chapter Twenty
Four flat viewings later, I was reconsidering my agreement to this farce. Shaun stood in the centre of a stunning kitchen/lounge while an agent rattled off a list of features. Most of it I didn’t need. What twenty-five-year-old actually needed smart lighting?
“You’re not listening to me, Shaun,” I repeated for the fourth time. There might have been a tinge of exasperation in my tone. Alright, a lot. But I was tired and wasting my day off being dragged around flats I had no intention of renting.
“Of course I am. You said you hate your housemates, so we’re looking for a studio or a one-bed. This is perfect, don’t you think?” He flashed me that winning smile that charmed other people.
I had to admit, this place was beautiful, and if all I wanted to do with my life was pay rent and work at a job that gave me no joy, it would make a lovely home. But I wanted more. I might not have known what “more” was, but I knew it didn’t include a flat with a 180-degree view of the water and a flash smart-home system.
“It’s not right. I don’t even want to know what the monthly cost is.”
“Come on, Mona. It’s safe!”
“And my current place isn’t?”
“No! Have you seen the men loitering on the corner? There’s going to be a drug bust on your street any day now.”
“And I’ll ask again: Why do you care?”
“You work for me.” He stepped closer, his gaze flicking to the estate agent staring out the window. Dropping his voice, he said, “I care about you. Your safety is important!”
I ignored the meaningful hitch in his voice and focused on my indignation. “Sherry works for you. Did you inspect her living arrangements?”
“I didn’t have to.”
“No, you didn’t do it because she’d have paid you back by signing you on for some reality TV show.”
Shaun shuddered. “Don’t even joke about shit like that!” He scowled at me like I was tempting the universe. “This is ridiculous. I’ll give you a raise. Will that solve it?”
Horror snatched my words. My jaw worked, but I couldn’t produce any sound.
The agent’s head snapped back and forth between the two of us. “I’ve got a listing a couple streets over that might work?” he suggested, his tone kind but his eyes wide. I hoped Shaun had him sign an NDA. The chances of this guy selling all our secrets to the press increased by the minute.
“Does it have a bay view?” Shaun asked. The agent shook his head, his shoulders slumping. “Then definitely not.”
“Does it have any unnecessary appliances or features?” I asked, ignoring Shaun.
“No. It’s fitted to modern standards but not tech fitted.”
That piqued my interest. “Where does it sit on cost?”
“Mona, we’re not viewing it.” Shaun’s voice was clipped and his jaw clenched.
I ignored him and pressed the agent for an answer. When he quoted a figure at the top of my range, I almost kissed him.
“It’s perfect.”
“It’s not even remotely on that scale.”
It was a basic but lovely studio flat with a small kitchenette, an en-suite shower and a washing machine tucked into an airing cupboard. I’d need to rework the layout, but for a studio, it was a good size. It came furnished with a double bed, a loveseat, TV stand and coffee table. There were even lamps. I wouldn’t have to pay out for any furniture, which was a huge bonus for such a short let. And best of all, it had parking.
“When could I move in?” I asked the agent, ignoring the scowl on Shaun’s face.
Shaun scoffed. “You can’t be serious. The building is old.”
“It’s called character.”
“It’s called thin walls.”
“Like new builds or trailers are actually any better?”
He busied himself opening cupboards rather than finding a way to counter my point.
“When could I move in?” I asked again.
The agent smiled. “It’s currently available, so we would just need to do the checks and file paperwork. A week at most.”
Shaun sighed. “If I signed on as her guarantor, any chance you could make that tomorrow?”
“He doesn’t mean that. Ignore him.” I shoved Shaun towards the door. “Why don’t you wait outside while the adults talk!”
He dug in his heels and resisted with ease.
“A generous offer, but I’m afraid we would still need to run references,” my new favourite agent said.
Grinning, I stopped pushing Shaun towards the door. He stumbled at the sudden loss of my hands, but with all that muscle, he recovered fast. Finally, someone Shaun couldn’t bribe with his celebrity status.
“I’ll think about it and let you know.”
“Why do you need to think about it?” Shaun asked.
“I’ve still got the room with Tilly as an option.”
Shaun frowned and crossed his arms. “If I can’t get you in a flat with security, then this is at least better than sharing a room in someone else’s house.”
It was my turn to cross my arms and growl. What was this man doing to me? “And I already said if I can save money, I will. Besides don’t you think it would be lonely for me living here alone and maybe I’d like someone to talk to?”
Whatever protest he had prepared stalled on his tongue. He stared at the double bed with heated eyes. I didn’t want to dissect the meaning behind that look.
“I’ll let you know,” I promised the agent and skipped out the door.
Freedom was in reach. I’d done as promised, I’d seen the flat, and now I’d have the rest of the day to myself.
“Why are you frowning at me?” Shaun asked, holding a spoonful of mint ice cream out to me. “It’s just a spoonful. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat any more.”
My escape hadn’t gone according to plan. In my haste to get away, I’d failed to notice Shaun’s waiting car on the street. The moment I’d stepped out the door, he’d ushered me into the car under the guise of a mob of fans. There were three. Two of them were under the age of five. He posed for selfies while I cursed his name to the soundtrack of Tom’s laughter. At least his driver listened.
Don’t get me wrong. Lunch was amazing. He’d scored a table at a super-exclusive rooftop restaurant overlooking the city. The food was delicious, and people left him alone, which was a nice perk. The servers were even discreet, which was even nicer.
“You shouldn’t eat that,” I said without my usual force. I’d been wined and dined, and the only thing missing was a nap in the sun.
“Are you going to tell on me?” Shaun pouted, but his eyes laughed at me, ruining his concerned facade.
He had yet to realise that I’d never grassed him up to his trainer. I hoped he never realised, or he’d start breaking his own rules just to test me.
Shaun finished his ice cream, the spoon scraping against the side of the glass.
“I think you got it all.”
He smiled, that easy twinkle in his eye setting bu
tterflies loose in my stomach. While I stared, transfixed by his lips, he stood and held out his hand. “Shall we sit on the terrace and finish our drinks in the sun?”
Was he a mind reader now?
I nodded and gathered my bag and soft drink. Shaun led the way to a plush pair of loveseats at the edge of the glass balcony. He took a seat next to me, spreading his arms along the back of the loveseat. I became hyper aware of his fingers, rubbing at the fabric directly behind my shoulders.
“So, you moved down pretty fast.” Shaun leaned towards me with an expectant look on his face. “Most people would have to give notice.”
Was he asking if I’d skipped out on a job? That was an obvious yes. Not that my boss had really cared. All that talk of blacklisting was meaningless. For one, I’d be glad to never see another marketing company for as long as I lived. Even with adequate notice, I couldn’t believe he would have given me a good reference.
Shaun tugged on a flyaway lock of hair, drawing my attention back to him. And the finger twirling the strands, tying us together.
“Bad breakup?” He watched me from beneath his lashes. “You said it had been a year.”
My ex’s mean but handsome face flashed through my mind. Shaun meant was I running from a recent breakup, or I assumed he did.
“I was kind of shocked. Looking at you, it’s hard to believe.”
I frowned at him.
“C’mon, Mona, you’re beautiful. I can’t believe any Scot would be stupid enough to pass you by.”
A sharp pain stabbed at my chest, as if Shaun had stuck me with a dagger and turned the blade.
“Meaning that if I was – am – single, it’s my fault?” I asked, stiffening in my seat.
If I confided in him about my previous relationship, would he blame me for his bullshit need to control every inch of my life?
Shaun’s eyes widened. He released my hair and his nimble fingers cradled my chin, turning my head until I could only see him. Mission achieved, he leaned in, the tips of his fingers dancing across my neck, firing off dangerous sparks that I shouldn’t have been allowed to feel.
Between Takes Page 13
