“Fine, I’m going.”
Paige walked up the stairs, humming another hip-hop tune, and he slumped against the wall. Suddenly, watching a movie with her in the dark felt like a trap, one that he wouldn’t mind walking into.
Later, they sat at the table in the sunroom, a board of Scrabble between them. After she’d walked downstairs with her hair still hanging loose, a ripped T-shirt and a pair of sweats—looking every bit as sexy as she did in panties and a tank—he suggested the game. No sitting next to each other on a comfortable couch, no sharing popcorn, no burrowing into him during the scary parts of the movie. And best of all, they were in a well-lit room. No sense in tempting fate right now.
Andrew made a show of looking at his watch. “Um, you can make your move any day.” It had been at least a minute since he’d played his last word and she still hadn’t formed a word.
“Shut up,” she grumbled, moving her tiles around. “Don’t rush me.”
“You can always pass,” he teased. “I won’t think any less of you.”
Muttering a curse, she passed. “Don’t think I’m giving up.”
Grinning, Andrew swiveled the board around and placed two tiles on the board. “I would never think that.”
Frowning, Paige peered at the board. “Wait a minute!” She smacked her palms down on the table. “That is not a word. You’re cheating.”
“How am I cheating?”
“AA is not a word!” She pouted.
Andrew barked out a laugh. “It is.”
Paige pointed at him. “Stop lying.”
He picked up his phone and googled the word. Then he showed it to her. “See?”
Leaning forward, she read the screen. When she was done, she pushed his hand away. “Get on my nerves,” she grumbled.
Andrew’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, noticed it was Skye, and turned it off.
“You’re not going to get that?” she asked, her eyes still on the board.
“No, they can wait.”
She lifted her eyes, held his gaze. “What if it’s important?”
“It’s not,” he insisted. Skye had been calling him all day, and he’d yet to answer the phone because he wasn’t ready to bring work into the little peace they’d found there. Andrew knew the publicist would want to talk about Paige, and he felt it was best to table any discussions about Paige’s career for the moment.
Arching a brow, she said, “Really? I’ve heard your phone ring multiple times just in the last hour.”
Sighing heavily, he shrugged. “Like I said, they can wait.”
“It’s about me, isn’t it?”
Andrew didn’t want to give her another vague answer, so he just answered the question. “Yes, it was Skye.”
“Skye? What does she want?”
He took a sip of his beer. “She’s concerned about you.”
Paige perched her chin on her hands. “Why?”
“Because you disappeared. She’s your publicist—and your friend. She wants to know if I found you, and if you’re okay.”
Tilting her head, she observed him for a moment. Finally, she sat back and rested her hands on the table. “You can tell her I’m okay.”
Andrew nodded. “Okay.”
