“No. But given her job and mine, we don’t know when we’ll next get to see each other. I’m not exactly the most knowledgeable person about relationships, but it’s not going to last, is it? Not if we can go a month without seeing each other.” I had no idea what was going to happen with me and Otter. We had just been working it out from one date to the next.
Rowan shrugged, an act that I figured might’ve felt a bit tight as he’d been overworking his shoulder muscles in the gym. I hoped it hurt slightly, anyway. “Some people make it work. Depends how much you want it to. How often do you speak to each other?”
I knew what his reaction was going to be. “Every day. Maybe more than once.”
He laughed first. “You’re already in a relationship, Ry. And I’m figuring you make the most out of modern technology and you’re video calling.”
I nodded. No point in lying. “Maybe you’re right.” I eyeballed him. “At least my photos are of my kissing a really hot actress, and not boning some random hook-up on a sun lounger in Mexico.” Which was exactly what Rowan had been caught doing in the summer.
He groaned. “Thanks, fucker.” His phone had started to ring, some obnoxious ring tone that irritated the fuck out of whoever had to listen to it. “It’s Dee. She’ll be wanting to know what’s happening. Excuse me while I tell her everything.’
I could only shake my head.
CHAPTER14
Otter
I’d beenbeside myself with nerves during every minute of the drive to Manchester. Possibly even more nervous than when I’d been getting ready for my first ever date with a boy I’d crushed on for about six months before plucking up the courage to ask him out.
There had been a lot of coverage about us in the press since the photos were published. Speculation that we were married, speculation that I was pregnant – which always happened if someone found a picture where I looked even slightly bloated. Old photos of me in a bikini had been yanked up from somewhere with the whole ‘is she pregnant with the ROC’s baby’ written next to them. Jas and Genevieve were unruffled by the whole thing, and Rhys, Ryan’s agent, had called me a couple of times to let me know how they were capitalising on it. We had a joint photoshoot booked in a couple of weeks with the same magazine that interviewed me before, and the brand that Ryan was the lead ambassador for had asked me to be the face of a range of women’s wear, which fitted nicely with my upcoming releases and the characters in those projects.
I pulled up in the car parking space Ryan had told me to take and killed the engine. Taking a moment to just breath.
This was the first time we’d spent the night in either of our homes, and although I had been to his old house in London, this was different.
It had stopped being anonymous and it wasn’t just about sex anymore. Part of me felt something like grief for those times when we met in hotels and didn’t know anything about the complications of each other’s lives, and another part was anxious that it wasn’t going to end.
I forced myself to get out of the car, certain that everyone in a three-mile radius could hear the thumping of my heart, and opened the boot, pulling out my suitcase and small hold-all. I’d over packed and I’d stress packed too, including items ‘just in case’ something happened, or we went somewhere we hadn’t planned. It was a ridiculous amount of luggage for two nights.
I fought with the lift, dragging my suitcase and feeling like I wanted to cry. The press and their comments hadn’t bothered me – most of what had been published that I’d happened to be aware of had been positive, and I wasn’t going to go digging to find the negative stuff.
There was a short ride up to the ground floor, the lift doors opening and I was in the small concierge area, a man in a uniform looking at me as if I was about to try and sell him something he really didn’t want.
“I’m here to see Ryan O’Connell. Apartment six.” I gave him what I hoped was a winning smile.
“Let me just check the list. What’s your name?”
Either he didn’t recognise me at all, or he was a very good actor. I gave him my name and waited as he scanned the list.
There was a nod. A half smile. “You’re on here. I’ll get the lift. Can I take your suitcase?”
Usually I’d say no and struggle with it myself, but I wasn’t in the mood to turn down any help offered.
Three minutes later and I was outside apartment six, my suitcase next to me, my holdall also on the floor. The door opened and I felt the same anticipation I used to get when I opened the door of an advent calendar and there was a chocolate treat behind it.
Only this chocolate treat was wearing sweatpants and nothing else, not even socks. His hair was damp from the shower and as he leaned against the door frame, his grin oozed filthy thoughts.
All my fears and worries went and hid under the veil of lust that had draped itself over me. My eyes stole over Ryan’s body, taking in the taut skin pulled over firm muscles, the scattering of dark hair that ran from his chest and thickened down the centre of his abs to where his sweatpants straddled low on his hips.
“Shall I get your luggage?”
I nodded, managing to pick up my holdall. He grabbed the suitcase and carried it over the threshold, putting it down against a wall in a large entrance hall. I dropped my holdall besides it.
There wasn’t time to take in the décor, or analyse how it was styled, because Ryan had me pressed against the wall, his mouth on mine and all I was aware of was his skin and the heat of it, his hard length hardly being contained by his sweats.
We kissed like we were starved for each other, hands running over skin as if we were reading what was written on our bodies, seeking the words I knew I couldn’t yet find.
“Bedroom.”
