Fordays, she’s been laughing off Mara’s advances toward me, and I thought she understood that it was all for show and all against my will.
But I guess it got too much for her, and I’m kicking myself for not doing anything to stop it.
It feels like she’s been distancing herself over the past few days, but I told myself she was busy.
Sure, we arrived to work together every morning, but aside from that, our contact has been limited.
I know this thing between us isn’t in my head, but I think what Mara’s doing has gotten inside hers.
We haven’t had sex since the night I dropped her off at home after Olive’s gig, but wehavekissed.
And that kiss…man, I can still taste her every time I lick my lips.
Scooping the cupcake and the coffee off the table, I stalk toward her trailer, not bothering to knock before I burst through the door. “What the fuck is this?”
She thinks she doesn’t owe me a damn thing, but shedoesowe me an explanation.
“Tahnee, give us a minute,” she says.
I’m grateful no one else from the cast or crew is lingering in here and that her employee is the only person we need to remove from the situation.
“You got it,” Tahnee responds, rushing out the door without asking questions, slamming it shut behind her, leaving a stunned Jenna in her wake.
“A cupcake and a coffee, Snow, as a fucking peace offering?” I put them onto the makeup vanity beside me, crossing my arms over my chest. I try my hardest to keep my breathing calm.
She tilts her head to the side before straightening her posture, squaring her shoulders as if she’s about to go to war.
Does she realize that I’m not the enemy in this?
“It’s like the note said. No hard feelings. I get it. You have your job to do, and I have to protect mine. I’ve worked too damn hard to have it ruined because of a silly PR stunt.” Her shoulders drop slightly, her hands placed on her hips. “I won’t be seen as the woman who came between Hollywood’s new ‘it’ couple. Ican’t.” She shakes her head, her face devoid of any emotion. But I can see the way her eyes shift to a darker shade of blue, and I know she’s lying through her teeth. That, and the way her mouth snaps shut to hide the tremble in her lips.
“I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do to make you see that I don’t wanther.” I run my hands down my face. “You are the only one I—”
“Don’t.” She cuts me off. “Don’t say whatever you were just about to say, Cole.” She breathes a shaky breath. “I don’t want to be the person who has to sneak around with you behind closeddoors. And all for what, a release? It’s not worth it. Everyone’s eyes are on you and Mara in public.”
I know she doesn’t mean it, but it doesn’t make the burn sting any less.
“I’m giving you an out.” She raises her hands in defeat, giving up, and it only angers me more. “Take it.”
“I don’t want a fuckingout, Jenna. How much clearer do I have to be?” I inch closer, forcing her eyes to lock onto mine, her refusal to back down from this fight obvious. “I want—”
“I don’t need you to be clear, Cole. I need you to not ruin your career over a three-month summer fling, and resent me for it later. Because that’s all this is, right? So, let it be over. You’re way too talented to let this job slip through your fingers because you were too busy thinking with your dick.” She brushes past me, the warmth from her body radiating onto mine, coating my skin with goosebumps, and my breath lodges in my throat.
“You really think this is a summer fling, Snow?” I whisper in her ear as I grip her wrist, pulling her body closer to mine, but she takes a step to the side.
“It’s what I know.” She takes another step away.
I don’t respond. Not with words, anyway. I turn away from her and head to the door of her trailer, locking the door to give us some privacy. “Jenna,” I begin, but she cuts me off.
“What are you doing?” she whispers, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress, eagerly wanting to escape this uncomfortable situation.
“I don’t accept your fucking peace offering.” I close the gap between us, my mouth crashing down on hers, her lips parting instantly, and a subtle groan escapes the back of her throat.
Her hands trace every inch of my chest, back and arms, desperate to hold me, while my hands cup the side of her face, my thumbs softly grazing her cheeks.
“What are you doing?” she asks in when my mouth breaks apart from hers, only to claim them again.
“I'm talking what I want.” I don't stutter. She might not want clarity, but I'm going to give it to her if it's the last thing I do.
