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For several disorienting seconds, I lie perfectly still beneath the sheets, my heart hammering hard enough to hurt as I stare at the unfamiliar hotel ceiling above me.
My skin is overheated, my breathing uneven, and the ache between my thighs makes the dream feel far too real.
There’s nobody beside me. Of course there isn’t.
I drag both hands over my face and groan into my palms.
I just had a sex dream about Spencer’s bodyguard.
And somehow, going back to sleep feels like an even worse idea.
CHAPTER ONE
Emma
MARCH 3RD - THREE YEARS LATER
“…and that’s why working with director Martin Keller was such an incredible experience.”
Spencer flashes his trademark smile, and the audience responds exactly the way they always do. The host laughs.
A few people in the front row lean forward like he’s personally included them in the joke. Magazine profiles never seem to run out of ways to praise it.
I’ve spent four years watching him turn it on whenever a camera appears.
The interview wraps to applause, and the cameras begin pulling back from the set. The red recording light clicks off.
The smile vanishes before the applause has even faded.
A production assistant rushes forward with a clipboard. Someone else hands Spencer a bottle of water.
People move around us in every direction, talking into headsets, carrying equipment, trying to keep the next segment on schedule.
Spencer barely makes it ten feet backstage before he rounds on me. “You didn’t tell me about the schedule change.”
I blink at him. “What schedule change?”
“The photo call.”
I furrow my brows. “There wasn’t a photo call.”
“There obviously was.”
A publicist trailing behind us clears her throat. “Actually, Spencer, the network added it this morning.”
His head snaps toward her. “Then why wasn’t I told?”
The woman freezes like she’s wandered into a minefield. “We emailed your management team.”
Yep, I know exactly where this train is heading.
Spencer turns back to me. “There you go.”
I stare. “There I go what?”
“This. Right here.” His hand cuts through the space between us. “The communication problems.”
A laugh escapes before I can catch it.
