I slam my car door shut, mutter an apology to Wanda Two, and stomp toward the front door. I’d replayed and replayed the audition in my mind the whole ride home, my foul mood plummeting ever further.

I blew it, plain and simple, and let down myself, Kevin, and Tate. All the practice and suggestions Tate gave me yesterday went right out of my head the second I stepped into the casting room. The first word out of my mouth was wrong, and it’d only gone south from there.

I fling my keys into the bowl, kick off my sandals, and throw my purse onto the landing table. It skitters across the top and into a porcelain vase, sending it crashing to the floor. My hand flies to my mouth.

Oh my God, what have I done?!

I flee down the hallway, stifling a sob that threatens to break free. I fling myself down onto my bed and burst into the tears.

I’m never going to be an actress.

I’m always going to choke at auditions.

I’m such a stupid, clumsy failure that—

I gasp as a hand glides up my back to my shoulder blades. I glance up. Tate’s perched on my bed, leaning over me as his hand begins massaging my tense shoulders.

“Tate?” I whisper, sniffling a little.

“What’s wrong, Char?” he murmurs, knitting his brow.

“I b-broke your vase. I’m such a klutz!”

A smile tugs at his lips. “I never liked it anyway.”

“What if it was an h-heirloom?”

“It’s not. An interior designer put it there.” He frowns at me. “Is that really why you’re sobbing on your bed?”

I take a breath and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “Stop being so nice to me.”

“Why?”

“Because I blew it! I bombed the audition!”

“I doubt it,” he says quietly. His other hand begins massaging my lower back.

I moan. “Mhmm, that’s nice.”

“Tell me what happened. When you’re ready.”

I enjoy the comfort of his hands for a moment longer and then push myself up, determined to hold back my tears this time. “I totally froze the minute the casting director said ‘You can begin.’ It’s like everything you taught me flew out of my head,” I wail.

Tate shrugs. “So you tanked one audition. We all do it.”

“You?”

“Sure.”

I scoff. “Yeah, right.”

“I’ve choked loads of times. Seriously,” he says, seeing the look on my face. “Once I auditioned for the wrong commercial.”

“No way.”

“Yup. I got halfway through my pitch about Colgate when I realized the ad was for Budweiser.”

A giggle escapes my lips.

“And another time, I mispronounced the product the entire audition. It was for Hermès, but I kept pronouncing it like the Greek god.”

“No you didn’t!”

Tate groans. “Swear to God. I was already well known by then, so I got the contract, but I’ve never been more mortified in my entire life. I still remember that casting director’s laugh.”

I stifle my own, but Tate catches it. “Good to see that smile again,” he says, making me blush. “What I’m saying is that I didn’t let those get me down. If I had, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

“But I’m not you, Tate. I’m already twenty-three. I didn’t move here right after high school, so I don’t have time to waste.”

“There’s no age limit in Hollywood, Charlotte. Hell, Lucille Ball was forty when she landed I Love Lucy.”

“I guess…” I grumble.

“Besides, you have two things you didn’t have a month ago.”

I perk up a little. “What?”

“Me and Kevin.”

“Oh my God,” I groan. “That’s the worst part!”

Tate frowns and I hurry to explain. “No, sorry, not like that. I mean Kevin. I’ve let him down. This was the first gig he found for me and I blew it.”

Tate shrugs. “So what? I’ve blown plenty of stuff he’s set up for me. And remember, you don’t work for him. He works for you.”

I stare at him and then throw my hands in the air. “How are you so…so—”

“Amazing?” he smirks.

“No.”

“Talented?”

I scowl. “Confident! I’d kill to have one ounce of your composure.”

“It’ll come with time, Char.”

“I doubt it,” I mutter.

Tate frowns. “I’m not that confident, you know.”

“Right. So people don’t notice you from a mile away or immediately pick you out of a crowd even if they don’t know who you are. I’ve seen you on the red carpet, Tate. You’re…” A god among men? “…sure of yourself.”

“I haven’t always been. Seriously, I was just a lost, angry nineteen year old when I first moved out here. I had no direction or plan. It was pure luck that Kevin found me.”

And incredible bone structure and a body that makes women faint.

“What you see out there…” Tate shakes his head. “It’s all an act. It’s what’s expected of a leading guy. Of a bad boy. Sometimes I don’t recognize myself.”

I rest my hand on his forearm. “Well, I get to see the real you every day, and I like what I see. You don’t have to pretend around me, famous guy.”

Tate meets my eyes. “I know.”

Those two words set fire to my body, exciting and tingling every inch of skin. I bite my lip and glance away. “Maybe I just need to grow thicker skin, toughen up.”

“I don’t think so.”

Something in his voice drags my eyes back to his. They’re filled with desire and longing and want.

I glance down at my hand still resting on his arm, and slowly draw it back. “Tate…”

Suddenly Tate moves, snatching my hand up with his and pulling it back toward his chest. His other hand traces my cheekbone, grazing my skin with his fingertips, before gliding through my thick hair to the base of my neck.

“I think you’re perfect the way you are,” he murmurs. He reaches around my body to grasp my hips and tugs me into his arms. He tilts my head up toward his. Deep pools of green gaze down at me.

My breath hitches in my throat as he leans down, his lips inches from mine. “Char,” he whispers before finally bringing his lips to mine.

I press my hands against his chest, trying to fight what’s happening between us, but he only holds me tighter, his fingers pressing into the flesh of my hips and holding me captive. His hot tongue finds my lips, and the last of my resistance is swept away.

My lips part and my tongue meets his—hungry, wanting, burning to taste him. We’ve done this before, in front of crowds and for cameras, but this different. This…

This is real.

Tate releases my hips and slips his hand under my shirt, gliding his palm up and across the smooth skin of my back. He eases me down onto the bed, pressing my back down onto the soft duvet. Tate slides his hand out from under my head and moves south, grazing my neck and collarbone with his rough fingertips.

He pulls his lips away and leaves a trail of kisses on my cheek to my ear. “Charlotte…” he growls, his breath hot and steamy against my skin. “…I want you.”

I groan as his hand dips lower, forcing apart my thighs and pressing them to the bed. As he eases between my legs, I feel his hardness jump against my soft inner thigh. My breath catches. That’s no Little Gunner—

My eyes fly open as my mind finally catches up with my heart. What am I doing? I know I want him, too. So, so badly. I’ve never felt anything like this with Jay. Tate’s a god, a sexy, alluring Adonis, and I’m a mere mortal. I know what happens to mortals when they tempt a god.

They get burned.

“Tate, stop,” I cry, pushing against his hard chest. He pulls back, and I scramble out from under him. “We can’t!”

Tate reaches out a hand. “No, wait—”

But I don’t. I run out the door and down the hall into the living room. I have to put some space between me and what I almost did. What we almost did.

“Charlotte!”

I glance over my shoulder. Tate’s coming down the hall after me, his face strewn with concern and hurt. “Don’t…”

“I need some air!” I run to the foyer, grab my keys, slip on my sandals and wrench open the door.

“Stop!”

I turn. Tate’s standing in the middle of the living room, chest heaving, as he stares at me. He holds out a hand. “Let’s talk about this.”

My heart clenches as I stare into those gorgeous green eyes. I know this isn’t real. This is lust and nothing more. Tate Gunner doesn’t love me, and I won’t jeopardize what we have over a mistake.

I shake my head and turn.

“Please—!” Tate yells before I shut the door behind me. I need space. I need to think. I need to not be around People’s Sexiest Man Alive for one damn minute.

I’d come too close to losing myself today, and that’s a mistake I can’t afford to make again.

* * *

“Charlotte?” Kelley steps back as I push past her. She turns and follows my beeline for the couch with wide eyes. “What’s the matter?”

I slump onto the couch and bury my face into the cushions. Kelley shuts the door and comes over to me, resting a hand on my back—just like Tate had before he kissed me…and before I…

I give myself a hard mental shake. “Tate kissed me,” I say, sitting up and meeting Kelley’s eyes.

She stares back at me. “Yeah, I think the whole world knows that by now.”

“No, not those kisses. A real kiss.”

“Real? Wait, what does that mean?”

I throw myself off the couch and start pacing. “I mean a heart-thumping, panty-wetting, Gone with the Wind kiss!”

“Ohh…” Kelley says nodding slowly. “Not good.”

“I know!” I stop and face her. “I have no idea what it means.”

“Well, what did Tate have to say about it?”

“Oh, um—” I glance away.

“Charlotte? You did talk about it, right?”

“Or I may have just run out of there.”

“You what?”

“Sorry! I didn’t know what to do. I was totally overwhelmed and afraid of what might happen if I stayed there a second longer.”

Kelley arches an eyebrow. “And what do you mean by that?”

“I don’t know.”

Kelley jumps to her feet and points a finger at me. “Charlotte Laine, you like your fake boyfriend!”

“I don’t!” I bite my lip “Well, maybe a little.”

“I told you this would happen. But you were like, ‘No, it’ll never happen to me.’”

“Okay, so you were right! What do I do about it?”

Kelley shrugs. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” I stare at my friend. “I’ve never felt this way before about anyone.”

“To be fair, you’re comparing a movie star to every other guy.”

“True.” Kelley had a point. Tate made normal men look like boys. “But it’s more than that. He’s not the arrogant, self-obsessed asshole that I thought—”

“That the whole world thinks,” Kelley corrects.

“Fine. Anyway, I don’t think doing nothing is really an option.”

“Why not?”

“I, uh, don’t know if I can control myself around him.”

Kelley snorts. “Wow. Those must be some powerful pheromones.”

“You have no idea,” I mutter.

Kelley walks to me and lays a hand on my arm. “Hormones aside, I still think getting involved with him is a bad idea.”

“You do?” I ask, slightly heartbroken.

“First, he’s an A-lister who flies through women. What makes you think you’re any different?”

I grimace at her words. “Ouch.”

“Sorry! I just mean what makes you think he really likes you as opposed to just being horny? You two have been ‘dating’ for over a month and a half now. That’s a long time for a guy like Tate to keep it in his pants.”

I don’t argue. The same thought crossed my mind on the way over here.

“Secondly, you two have this arrangement, which I told you was a bad idea, and adding sex to the mix is only going to complicate things.”

Again, she’s only voicing the same arguments I made with myself on the drive here.

“And thirdly…” Kelley steps toward me. “I don’t want to see my best friend get hurt. I remember what Jay did to you, how depressed and hopeless you got, and I don’t want to see that happen again.”

I hang my head. “You’re right. Those are all valid points. I’ll just go back to avoiding him. But it’ll be harder when we’re out, Kel. I’m supposed be a devoted girlfriend in public and that means physical contact.”

“I guess it does…” Kelley trails off, not having any answers.

I throw myself back on the couch. “What am I going to do?” I wail to the ceiling.

Kelley giggles.

“What?” I ask, frowning up at her.

She gives me a coy smile. “I just thought of one deliciously good point in favor of you hooking up with Tate Gunner.”

I perk up. “What?”

“Your first time will be with that divine specimen of a man—”

“Kelley!”

“—and with a god like that, it’s guaranteed to be the ride of your life.”