When we part, we’re both panting, gasping for air.
He wraps his hand around my neck and brings our foreheads together.
“Are you sure you have to leave tomorrow?”
CHAPTER 40
Andreas
“Green or purple?” I hold first the green, then the purple sweaters against my chest with my phone resting against the stand next to my hotel’s bed.
“Both would bring out your eyes, but I personally like you in purple. You pull it off so well,” Ivy explains. “The pants are black, right?”
“Sure are,” I answer before tossing the green sweater on the bed to put on the white T-shirt before covering it with the purple sweater.
“Perfect,” she says. “I thought you had a stylist there.”
I’m getting ready for one of the first pressers forLate Nights.
In the two months since returning from Williamsport, Michael Keith has managed to complete post-production on the film and schedule the release for early summer.
While it’s not quite a Fourth of July release, it is during a typically heavy movie audience time. Which means the studio is placing a high level of faith in this film to do well.
“We do,” I tell her. “But I trust your judgment more.”
She laughs, which makes my heart squeeze.
“Did you sleep well last night?” she asks, her concern going straight to my heart.
“You weren’t next to me … so, no.”
I’m in New York for the presser since the director of the film had a prior engagement in the city already.
And less than twenty-four hours ago I was in Canada, wrapping up the filming of my next movie. It’s been a busy few months which has led to me not seeing Ivy as much as I’d like, but I fly her out as much as her schedule lets me.
“You’ll be home tomorrow.”
“Tonight,” I correct. “I bumped up my flight. Once the presser’s over and my meeting with one of my sponsors, I’m going to the airport.”
Her smile lights up the screen, and I’m tempted to cancel everything and hop my ass on the plane now.
“Don’t you dare,” she warns.
“How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“That wicked look in your eyes. You get it right before you—” She stops herself.
“Before I what, Ivy?” I taunt. I want to hear her say it, though I know I’m playing with fire because I really just might get on the next fucking flight out of here if she says the words I want to hear.
Her lips part, but before anything comes out there’s a knock on my hotel room door.
“Mr. Knight, we’re ready for you to start heading down,” one of the assistants from the studio says through the door.
Ivy pushes out a breath. “Good luck. I’ll be watching.”
“Love you,” I say easily.
She smiles. “I love you, too.”
