CHAPTER NINETEEN
JORDAN
I should have said no.
But his hands.
That body.
Those eyes.
And even more than that? No man had ever made me feel wanted. I’d spent my life fixing other people’s problems, living in the background, blending in. And for the first time, I didn’t want to blend.
I wanted color.
God help me. I wanted Reid Emory.
It was a horrible idea. For one thing, we were working together. It wasn’t like I could do the walk of shame a few feet back to my room and drown my sorrows in a pint of ice cream. I still hadn’t found an apartment and I really would be homeless if Reid kicked me out.
My job was to make him look good.
Keep him in the limelight.
And here I was, getting distracted by a six-pack and a movie-star smile. He was an actor. How hard would it be for him to act like he wanted me when he really didn’t? Maybe he was just being horny.
And I was available.
My shoulders slumped more as Reid hurried me into his bedroom.
“I can’t.” I swallowed, once more covering myself up while he came up behind me and kissed my neck. “I can’t do this.”
“Okay.”
Seriously? Now he didn’t want me at all? “That’s it? Just okay?”
He flipped me around and tilted my chin toward him. “I’m not going to force you into having sex with me if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not that guy. Just like you’re not the lights-off girl.” Reid wrapped his arms around my body. “When was the last time you let a man look at you . . . in the light?”
“Never.”
“So . . . I’ll tell you what.” Reid’s smile was so gorgeous I had to look away. So tender it made my heart clench. “Even though I’m paying you, you’re still doing me a favor by being my publicist, making sure that my career doesn’t tank on account of my brother being certifiably insane, and you’ve cheerfully gone along with this whole charade.”
Ugh, my stomach sank. Again, he kissed me because I was available.
“I’m going to teach you how to love yourself.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not insecure. I’m a realist.”
“Turn around.”
“No. Reid. We’ve had a lot to drink, I’m just going to shuffle off to bed and—”
Reid gripped my arm and dragged me into the bathroom. Flipping on the lights, he turned me toward the mirror. “What do you see?”
“Boobs.”
“You aren’t a horny thirteen-year-old boy. What do you really see?”
Honestly? I saw a lot of what I didn’t want to see. I saw flaws. So many of them, even with his killer lighting. My shame got worse as I realized my hips were wider than his. I mean, I’m a girl. I get that big hips equal childbirth, but still, it made me want to disappear into the floor. I was all curves.
I saw a scar on my stomach from when I got my appendix out.
A bit of cellulite on my thighs.
Breasts that were too big for my taste.
And a stomach that was only flat because I was sucking it in.
“Reid, this night stopped being fun about five seconds ago.”
He ignored me. “Soft . . . perfect . . . supple skin.” He ran his fingers down my ribs. “Breasts that render a man incapable of focusing on anything else.” He shook his head, his breathing heavier as his mouth landed near my ear. “And hips that my hands itch to grip, to thrust into . . . A lights-off girl? Hell, no. You’re a spotlight girl. You just need to stop looking through your eyes and use mine.”
I choked back the emotion in my throat. Things went from playful to real in that moment, and I wasn’t sure I could handle it if he didn’t really mean it. If it was fake.
“I think I like what you see better,” I whispered.
“Yeah?” He kissed the top of my head. “Well, I played a plastic surgeon once and I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”
“Well, that basically makes you an expert.”
“Right?” he teased. “And I’m sorry . . . if I overstepped my bounds . . . you know, trying to have sex with you, forcing you to stare at yourself naked while I lusted even more after your body. But I’m a firm believer in truth and I couldn’t for one more second let you believe a lie.”
Insert swoon here.
They actually happen in real life.
I’d read about them in novels. Made fun of the girls whose knees buckled when their men puked out such romantic words that they had no choice but to collapse into their arms.
My knees knocked together. “T-thank you.”
“Bed.” Reid nodded to the door. “Like I said, I won’t pressure you. Go sleep, read your damn book, and . . . sorry things got . . . crazy. It won’t happen again. I know we’re supposed to have boundaries, so—”
In my mind my next movements weren’t jerky or uncertain, they were fluid, sexy, hot, and unstoppable as I launched myself at his body, pushing us both into the general direction of the bedroom.
With a heave, Reid caught my flying ass, midair. We fell back against his mattress. A hard book caught his fall while throw pillows went careening by my face.
“Oof,” Reid huffed. “That was . . . unexpected.”
“You okay?” I winced.
“Sure thing.” He nodded. “The book broke my spleen, but I think I can still perform if I try not to breathe.”
I covered my mouth with my hands to keep from bursting out laughing. “I’m so sorry! I just . . . reacted.”
“I’m glad.” He winced. “Really. I’m a huge fan of the sneak-up-and-pounce attack. I just didn’t take into account hard surfaces on my bed.”
More laughter escaped from my lips.
“You won’t be laughing when you have to take me to the hospital because you landed on me wrong.”
I stopped laughing as a visual of having to take Reid to the hospital and explain how he got his injuries crossed my mind.
“Yeah, explain that to the doctor. Believe me, they aren’t very understanding downtown. Last time I visited a hospital, it was—”
He stopped talking.
“Do continue,” I urged, still hovering over him in attack mode.
“Nope.” He shook his head. “I do have a question, though.”
“What?”
“Since I’ve seen you naked, does that mean I get to shower with you and cop a feel whenever I want?”
“How cute, you really are a pubescent teen with headgear. Quick, give me a rose!”
Reid gasped. “Take it back!”
“Never!”
He reached around and started tickling my sides while I threw a pillow at his face and tried to escape. He tugged me back against his body while an angry Max shouted, “Sleeping here!”
“Jealous?” Reid called back.
“Where is his fiancée?”
“She has late class on Friday nights.”
I turned. “You know her schedule.”
“Every other night I have to wear earplugs. Damn right I know her schedule.”
“Every other night, huh?”
Reid grinned.
I burst out laughing. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Yes.” He nodded, then threw me a pair of sweats and a T-shirt that were folded on his chair. “I better get more wine.”
“Okay.”
“Oh.” Reid stopped and snapped his fingers. “Also, giving you clothes when I want you to live every day naked—not easy.”
“Go!” I laughed.
When Reid returned with more wine, I knew I made the right choice. Maybe we were better just . . . being us and not ruining things by having sex.
After all, when this was all over with.
He’d be famous.
And I’d be back to blending in with the wallpaper.