Inches from my neck.
Breaths from my body.
I ached for him in ways I never knew existed.
And I relished in the ache just like I relished in the anger, because at least that meant it had happened, and at least that meant I knew he was a bad choice I wasn’t willing to make again.
A weakness that wouldn’t just hurt me.
But kill me.
Sometime around one in the morning when the clock on the microwave blinked at me with an intensity that started a pulsing headache to form — I stumbled over to the couch and face planted — the last thought in my head was of the Sutherland Sunset — and how it had once been my anchor until it turned into my hell.
What a joke.
What a cruel joke.
“You made coffee.” Will’s smooth voice interrupted what had been a completely dreamless sleep.
I didn’t have the energy to respond with anything other than a grunt.
“Still not a morning person,” he commented. His footsteps might as well be sledgehammers drilling into the wood floor.
“Why?” I croaked.
The walking stopped. Lights flicked on. I shivered and cursed him to Hell as he poked his head over the couch and had the audacity to smile. “Why what?”
My eyes narrowed. “Talking.”
“Why talking?” He took a sip out of the blue mug I’d been drinking out of earlier that morning; he must have reheated the coffee. “Still really eloquent in the morning I see.” Another annoying sip. The terrorist didn’t even offer me any! Just kept loudly sipping while staring at me with a stupid ass grin on his face like it was a joy to be awake at… wait, what time was it?
I jolted to a sitting position, my pounding headache still wasn’t gone, in fact it was worse, probably brought on by Will’s cheerful demeanor and loud walking. “What time is it?”
“You have twenty minutes until you’re expected on set.” His voice was calm behind me, warm. If I closed my eyes I could almost imagine his body was about to wrap around me like a blanket, I’d tuck my feet under my body and rest my head on his shoulder, we’d share a cup of coffee like we used to and watch the news before work.
It took us one date to become inseparable.
Our trailers side by side.
Cohabitating.
Finishing sentences.
Eating off each other’s plates.
Sharing inside jokes.
Not to mention, Will had been my first.
I shivered as his footsteps moved away from me taking his body right along with them.
That was the past.
It needed to stay there.
With a sigh, I shot up to my feet and started making my way back to my room.
I only made it about one foot before Will started cursing.
Panicked, I froze and then turned around. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes narrowed over the rim of the blue cup, “I’m just trying to decide if you’re doing it on purpose.”
“Doing what?” Okay now I was getting annoyed. And the man wouldn’t stop slurping his coffee as though he didn’t know how to sip like a grown up!
He shrugged one of his shoulders. “Wearing no clothes.”
I pressed my hands to my bare stomach and looked down. I was wearing a white tank top, my hands lowered with my gaze.
And black lacy underwear.
I’d been too irritated last night to put on sweats.
“Won’t happen again,” I mumbled.
“Don’t let me cramp you style. Hell, you could walk around naked, and I promise it won’t have any effect on me whatsoever.” His voice was cold, detached. “Do whatever makes you comfortable, Angelica. After all, the more comfortable you are, the better your behavior will be.”
“Why.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Why do you treat me like I’m a child?”
“Probably because the day I signed on to be your agent was also the day I signed on to be your babysitter. Prove you aren’t a child, and I’ll stop treating you like one.”
My hands burned as I clenched my fists.
The desire to flip him off was so strong I had to dig my nails into my palm.
“I’ll be ready in five.”
He whistled. “Minutes?”
“Start the car,” I called behind me as I raced into my room. He wanted an adult? Two could play that game.
I’d been an adult longer than he had, after all.
I was working when he was still learning how to ride a freaking bike.
I was cleaning up my mom’s puke before he even knew what drug awareness was.
I was earning six figures before middle school.
A child?
Oh, there was definitely a child in that house.
But it wasn’t me.
I COULDN’T HELP it. I tried I even did that old trick where you look in the mirror and talk to yourself as if you’re two separate people. Just. Play nice. I could be nice. I spoon fed celebrities on a daily basis. It was my job to kiss ass.