“It’s amazing. Seriously.”
Looking around, I spot the table holding a million bottles of wine. I reach for Amara’s arm, the warmth of her skin sending a shock through my fingertips. “I, uh, do you want a drink?” I ask, my lips close enough to her ear that all I can smell is her cherry perfume.
It’s intoxicating.
She takes in a sharp breath. “Sure,” she says on an exhale.
I head over, grabbing two wine glasses between my fingers.
As I pour my glass, I steal a glance over at her, watching as she shakes her head, laughing with her friends.
And when I catch her eye, our gazes locking across the crowded, buzzing room, I feel a jolt of electricity run through me.
I’m desperate for her to look at me like that in private.
CHAPTER 19
AMARA
Cooper leaves for training camp in only a few days, which means we have a date to appease the producer Gods.
Which is why we’re currently sitting in front of little clay mugs, an array of paints in the middle of us.
“What are you going to paint?” he asks, laying out his paint brushes.
“I feel like it’s pretty well established that I’m not a great artist,” I say, a little annoyed for some reason.
The art class that we used to take together was great, but it honestly didn’t do me any favors. I was an awful artist. I’ll leave that part to Isla.
“But I think I’m going to paint fluffernutter.”
“The sandwich, or the cat?”
“The cat, obviously.” I roll my eyes, but for some reason, Cooper doesn’t really get the hint today.
The film crew moves around us the whole time we paint. Cooper tries his best to make me smile, and he almost succeeds.
“One of these days, I feel like I have to make you smile,” he says suddenly, putting his mug down.
I shrug. “You’ve made me smile.”
His head shakes, his brown hair flinging left to right. “No. Like really smile.”
“I don’t?—”
“One day, I want to be worthy of that. Can I just say that?” His voice is sincere. Pleading. Borderline pathetic.
Just like I like my men.
Damn him.
I look down at my mug. “Are we really doing this on camera right now?” It comes out as a mumble as I attempt to ensure the cameras don’t pick it up.
His eyes are intense as they study me. There’s no hint of a smile anywhere to be found.
I sigh. “I wish that things were different every day, Cooper. I really do. I just don’t really know how to move past everything. I sent you so many letters. So many emails. I thought there was something between us. No,” I swallow roughly. “I knew there was something between us. You hurt me a lot.”
He flinches, his eyes angled down at his hands in his lap.
