“You look perfect,” I say, my voice rougher than it should be. “Absolutely stunning.”
I'm so fucked.
A flush creeps up her neck at the compliment, and I'm reminded of how she responded to my touch last night, how she arched into me when my hands?—
“Zipper?” she says, turning around and pulling her hair to one side.
I step behind her, trying to ignore how the scent of her perfume makes me want to lean closer, to press my lips to the spot where her neck curves into her shoulder. My fingers find the zipper at the base of her spine, and as I slowly pull it up, my knuckles brush against her skin with each inch.
“There,” I say, stepping back before I do something stupid like kiss her neck. “Ready to go charm some industry executives?”
“Ready,” she says, grabbing her clutch. “I'm pretty sure I can get us time with Helene tonight, and I really think this could be your in with her F1 series. She's building her stunt team now, and your racing background would be perfect.”
The fact that she's thinking about my career, that she's using her industry connections to help me transition, makes a calm feeling spread through me. “Thank you. For bringing me tonight, for everything you're doing to help.”
“That's what friends do for each other,” she says, her eyes focused on everything around her but me.
Friends. The word hangs between us, loaded with implications we're both avoiding.
I clear my throat. “We should get your mother.”
We cross the hall to Stella's apartment, where Caroline is waiting in the living room, looking elegant in a navy dress and pearls. She lights up when she sees us together.
“You look beautiful, Caroline,” I say, offering her my arm.
“Thank you,” she beams. “Stella, you're so lucky to have found such a gentleman.”
As we head toward the elevator, Caroline glances back with a smile. “You two look perfect together.”
Taking the cue, I catch Stella's hand and pull her closer.
“What are you?—”
I cut her off by cupping her face and pressing my lips to hers.
It's meant to be quick, just a little show for her mother's benefit, but the moment our lips touch, the memory of last night comes rushing back. She melts into me immediately, her hands fisting in my jacket, and I have to force myself to pull away before we get carried away again.
“In case I forget to say it later, I really appreciate everything you are doing for me tonight.” I give her one more quick kiss.
“For your mother,” I murmur against her lips, though we both know it felt like much more than that.
“Right,” she breathes, her cheeks flushed. “For Mama.”
But as we follow Caroline into the elevator, I catch Stella touching her lips like she's trying to hold on to the feeling, and I wonder if any of this is an act for her anymore.
We make it to the theater with fifteen minutes to spare, just as the red carpet starts humming with camera flashes and shouted questions. Stella hooks her arm through mine as we approach the check-in table, her heels clicking in time with my steps.
She leans in to whisper something about how everyone suddenly turns into a red-carpet critic the second there’s a velvet rope, and I bite back a laugh as we move through the line.
We say a quick hello to Sophia, Grant, Jess, and Lucas, introducing her mother to our friends before we enter the lobby space.
“There's Ava,” Stella says, nodding toward the actress. Ava's hair is swept up in a glittery clip, and she's modeling an elegant black gown. I know Stella has been working hard to recalibrate her career. “And that's Helena talking to the producer near the step-and-repeat.”
Helena Voss is younger than I expected, maybe late thirties, with short, dark hair and the no-nonsense vibe of someone who's allergic to incompetence. She's deep in conversation with a man in an expensive suit, gesturing animatedly about something.
“She grew up around Formula One,” Stella explains quietly as we walk. “Her father was a pit crew chief for McLaren back in the day. This new series is apparently her love letter to that world.”
We make our way through the reception area, and Stella expertly navigates all of us toward different groups, introducing her mother and me to people whose names I try to remember. Her hand finds mine naturally as we move through the crowd.
