“I’ll go and do…just about anything else,” she said, and then swiveled on her feet before running away.Literally.
Gallan chuckled. “She’s a strange one, your friend.”
I didn’t know how to face him. God, he’d heard me say dick and moon and bananas and–
“Hey, gorgeous.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and placed a kiss below my ear. “Umm, you smellgood.” His lips traveled to my neck, my shoulder.
I shuddered in welcoming pleasure when his stubble scraped against my heated skin. “Also, you should wear flannel shirts and skintight jeans more often, becauseJesus, woman, you lookfinein them.”
I managed to laugh. “That’s literally all I wear, Gall.”
He chuckled. “I know, but your ass looks especially good today, so I thought I’d plead my wishes to you.”
I grinned, and placed my back to his chest. “So crass this morning.”
“Mm-hmm, but only when it comes to you.”
I sighed when his warmth soothed me, relaxed me; when it grounded me.
“I’m sorry you had to hear me say all that,” I told him, and then turned around slowly so I could face him. My body buzzed in appreciation when I saw him –allof him. God, that man looked like atreatin a simple white t-shirt and faded jeans.
Insert intense fangirl moment here.
Gallan looked down at me with mirth in his eyes. “It was…refreshing to hear what you had to say. A new concept of sorts. I learned a lot from it, I can assure you that.”
Aaaaand there goes my fangirling seizure into a pond of many others.
I scowled and lightly pushed at his chest. “You’re an ass.”
He chuckled. “Nope. Just an admirer of your views towards the male anatomy.”
My cheeks heated. “It washerwho used those…termsas descriptive variables, not me.”
He grinned and pushed his hair to the side. “But they sounded better when you voiced them.”
I rolled my eyes. “Baboon.”
He chuckled harder and bent to kiss me, and like the schoolgirl I was turning into when it came to him, my stomach swarmed with giggly butterflies.
We hadn’t had the time to go on a date, Gallan and I. The filming schedule was tight, and because I had no phone, the two of us had to stick to talking, and spending whatever free time we could spare at the studio, and at the studio only. Gallan had early promo interviews and photoshoots to tackle, and I was busy plotting another comic when I wasn’t at the studio. Things were tough, but we were determined to make things work.
He had wanted to make us official on his social media accounts the moment we’d walked out of the trailer, but Shane was adamant we wait until our first date to do just that. According to him, if we (Gallan and I) werereallydoing this, then we had to do it without ‘stepping on cow’s shit.’ I don’t know what that means, and judging by the look of horror I’d seen on Gallan’s face right after he’d heard Shane mention cow dung, I can say that he had no clue either.
Over the last few days, I’d come to learn that things not only executed faster in the Holly world, but they also planted themselves into the very heart of the industry like some expensive silicone boob.
All hail the glamour world.
“Oof, that’s some heavy thinking going on in that head of yours for you to not answer me at all,” Gallan said, which made me smile.
“Sorry.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “So, you were saying?”
“Asking, actually. What are you gonna do about the phone situation? My patience is dwindling –rapidly. I wanna be able to hear your voice when I’m swamped between interviews and don’t have you by my side. After all, a smitten man can only take so much torture.”
I chuckled. “When I get the salary check next month, I’ll go get a new one, I promise,” I told him. “I’ve been saving up for a while to get a high-end phone, because those have a better performance factor, and it’ll be easier for me to sketch some of my comic stuff if I get a device that allows the use of a stylus pen. I don’t always have access to my computer when I get an idea I wanna draw or jot down, so yeah, it’ll have to be a pricey phone.”
“Hmm.” Gallan clicked his tongue. “I wonder…however could I speed up the process.” His eyes gleamed stunningly under the studio lights.
“What process?” I asked.
