Grantley
“What the fuck?” I stared down at my cell, reading the text that Phoebe had sent to me.
Was I sleeping with Francesca? Where the hell had she got that idea from? Why the hell did it concern her?
Okay, scratch that last one, I guess when you’ve almost got someone off with a kiss it kind of is their concern if you’re sleeping with someone else, but why she’d ask me that, I had no fucking clue. I dialed Phoebe’s number – this wasn’t something we could discuss by text. It rang a couple of times and then went to voicemail.
“You’ve reached Phoebe’s phone, sorry I can’t answer, but leave your number and I’ll call you back… maybe.” She ended the message with a giggle, which for some reason wound me even tighter.
“Phoebe, I think we need to talk.”
I hung up and looked down at my phone. Maybe I should have said more than that, it might sound like I had something I needed to tell her – like ‘yes I have slept with Francesca, but I need to tell you personally.’
I dialed her number again, but this time it went straight to voicemail – she’d damn well dropped my call. Okay, a text it was then.
Grantley: Phoebe answer your phone.
I waited a couple of minutes and tried again, but once more it went straight to voicemail.
Grantley: I mean it Phoebe. Answer your fucking phone this time. I want to talk to you, not fucking text.
I dialed her number and waited, fully expecting her to answer, but once again the little minx dropped it. I was slowly losing patience and wondering whether one damn kiss was worth all the hassle. But I guess the fact that I was desperate to get ahold of her and put her ridiculous notion to bed, kind of told me it was.
Grantley: I’m seriously pissed now, Phoebe. I’m going to call one more time and if you don’t answer your god damn phone, I will not be responsible for my actions when we get back on set.
I dialed her number again and waited, my fingers drumming on the arm of the chair I was sitting in. Finally, I heard her breathing on the other end of the line.
“What the hell makes you think I’m sleeping with Francesca?” I went straight in there, no need for the formalities.
“I-I. It wasn’t me,” she replied tentatively.
I sighed. “What wasn’t you? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I didn’t send the text. It was Beth.”
“And why the hell did Beth send the text?”
It was almost silent on the other end, apart from her soft exhales, which were fucking turning me on. I was imagining her lips slightly parted and her chest rising and falling slowly while she blinked those damn long lashes of hers. Fuck, I was fucked beyond fuckdom if just the sound of her thinking got me hard.
An image of Phoebe about to touch herself was pushed from my head as she spoke.
“It was my fault. I told her that I thought you were sleeping with Francesca.” Her words were rushed and while I couldn’t see her face, I knew it would be red with embarrassment.
“Why would you think that, pretty girl?”
I let out a breath, wishing that we didn’t have one more day shooting at the Mill House. I didn’t know what this girl had done to me, but she made me feel all kinds of soppy shit.
“I heard her when we spoke on the phone the other night. It sounded like she knows what you look like naked and you called her Frannie.”
I furrowed my brow, wondering what the hell she was talking about.
“That’s her name.”
“Her name is Francesca, but you called her Frannie, like you…oh shit, I’m being ridiculous. Honestly Grantley, ignore me. I’m being stupid and what you do really is no business of mine. It was one kiss and I have no right to question you.”
“Okay,” I replied. “Firstly, I’ve always called her Frannie, so I’m not sure why that’s upset you, but we’ll come back to that-.”
“Really Grantley, I’m being silly. Please, can we just forget about it?”
“No, we can’t forget about it,” I snapped before softening my tone. “It was obviously important for you to ask, or to at least mention it to Beth. So let me clarify, I’m not and never have slept with Francesca, and it was almost two kisses, but if you’ve forgotten that then I’m obviously losing my fucking touch.”
Phoebe giggled on the other end, causing me to let out a sigh of relief.
Told you, totally fucking fucked from here to fuckdom come.
“I am sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, you should have asked me.” I pushed up from the chair and walked over to the lounge window, watching Alexi shooting a scene with Francesca and Henrik over by the mill pool. This was a real beautiful place, but I just wanted to be back at the studio. “What you heard,” I continued, “was Francesca flirting with me, because I kind of forgot I was only wearing a towel when I answered the door.”
“How do you forget that?” Phoebe asked incredulously.
I grinned. “Because I was talking to you. You’ve kind of messed with my head a little.”
“Ooh.” She sounded surprised.
“Yeah, I’m a little shocked too.” I paused, waiting for Phoebe to respond, but when she didn’t I continued. “So, is there anything else you want to ask me?”
“Yes, actually there is,” Phoebe replied.
“Okay, go on.”
I held my breath, wondering what she was going to ask. I had nothing to hide from her but if she was going to ask me what my feelings were toward her, well, I wasn’t sure how I was going to answer.
“You say you forgot you had a towel on, but couldn’t you feel how cold your nadgers were when you opened the door?”
Fuck, this girl slayed me.