Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Spencer’s face falls. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean …”
Cameras start flashing around us as reporters ask what we’re fighting about. Spencer gives me a pleading look, and I nod in understanding. He wipes the tears from my eyes and gets close to me, whispering that he’s sorry and will make it up to me. I don’t know how he could, but I’m not about to ruin the fake relationship we have going because of this, especially not in front of a bunch of cameras.
Spencer’s eyes trail down to my lips, then back up to meet my eyes. I nod again, knowing what he needs to do to fix this.
Without hesitation, Spencer kisses me, pressing me gently against the brick building.
All my anger disappears as his lips touch mine. That electricity I felt the first time we touched is back and somehow stronger.
No one has ever kissed me like this before.
The music still bouncing from the club fades away, and I don’t even notice if pictures are still being taken of us. It’s only Spencer and me, alone in this alley, tasting each other’s breath like it’s the last one we’ll ever take. After what seems like forever, yet not long enough, Spencer pulls away. His silly smile matches the dumbfounded look on my face.
He reaches out his hand for me to take, and I place my palm in his. We go back into the club because we both know we have to, and it’s not as bad as it was before.
But Spencer still owes me one.
I wouldn’t mind collecting another kiss.
Chapter Fourteen – Spencer
After the club on Friday night, Leila and I went our separate ways, though I desperately wanted to invite her in after that mind-blowing kiss.
She stayed with me for a few more hours in a private balcony I paid an arm and a leg for access to. Once we were away from the people, she seemed to loosen up and even liked the music playing. I hated how badly I hurt her, and even worse how badly Candy hurt her.
I’ve been avoiding my costar since Friday night. She keeps calling and texting and even tries to get me to hang out between scenes, but when we’re not working, I’m not spending any time with her.
I’ve been avoiding Leila, too, but that’s because I don’t know what to do about our kiss. Did she feel like it was Earth-shattering the way I did?
I sigh and lean back against the pool chair in Mason’s backyard. It’s Tuesday afternoon, and he and Malia happened to have the day off, so I came here before I had to get to work. We’re shooting late into the night instead of early morning, which is both good and bad. It means I get a morning off for once, but it also means I don’t get to see Leila after work.
I’m not doing that great at avoiding her. It’s impossible when I want to be around her constantly. She was my first call when I got today’s schedule, but, of course, she’s working. She’s not even at my house, so I can’t bother her. I practically begged her to take the day off, but she said she couldn’t afford it, and I wasn’t about to push her for that.
Mason and Malia are still inside, so I take a second to scroll through my phone. The first picture is a selfie of Leila and me in the private suite. She has a genuine smile, and we’re pressed close together to take the picture. I told her I was taking it to post on Instagram as my first official declaration of my girlfriend, but I actually just wanted it for myself. I posted it on Instagram, of course, but I’m also keeping it on my phone forever. It’s Leila’s contact photo if she ever calls me, too.
Once again, I’m struck by how lucky I am. What if I hadn’t gone for an incognito walk through the park that day? Then I’d never have met Leila, my house would still be boring and white, and my life wouldn’t be nearly as awesome. Thank goodness for needing to blow off steam after a long morning on the first day filming the movie I’m on now. All the cards fell into place.
Too bad it’s only fake with Leila and me, and I have no idea how she felt about the kiss.
“Why do you look so gloomy?” Malia asks as she hands me a tall glass of fresh lemonade.
I take a long sip. Malia may be a fashion icon, but she’s also an amazing cook. I’d eat or drink anything she made for me.
“I’m not gloomy.”
“You were staring off to space like one of the brokenhearted heartthrobs you play in movies.”
I nearly spit out the lemonade. “Wow, thanks. A glowing review of my acting.”