Chapter 21
JAKE
Waking up at five thirty is hell. And not because I’m tired—hell no. Last night was the best night of my life.
It’s hard because she’s here… naked and wrapped around me like she belongs there.
I can’t even see much of her face in the dark, but I know by the soft, steady sound of her breathing that she’s still asleep, peaceful and content.
I shift just enough to brush my nose against her hair. God, I love her.
It hits me low and deep, that ache in my chest. I tighten my hold around her waist, burying my face in her hair like a coward because, fuck, I don’t want this moment to end.
I should get up. I’m supposed to be at the gym by six. But screw it—with the workout we had last night, my cardio’s solid.
I close my eyes again, selfishly clinging to her warmth, telling myself I can buy one more hour. Just one.
When I wake again, sunlight is slipping through the gap in the curtains, painting her curls gold where they’re sprawled across the pillow. There’s a hint of red in the brown I never noticed before—like she’s fire and earth all at once.
And God help me, I’m so far gone.
I glance at the clock, hoping, praying, I can steal just a little more time. But it’s already seven thirty. Shit. I’m more than fashionably late, and the chances of making it to my second meeting with Gordon’s team on time are close to none.
The worst part? I can’t bring myself to care.
Carefully, I shift out from under her. She makes a sleepy little sound, sighing as she turns onto her stomach, giving me a perfect, unfair view of her ass.
I groan under my breath—yeah, the shower’s going to be cold.
By the time I make it to the kitchen, Lucy’s already there, humming as she preps breakfast. She glances up, clocking the grin I can’t wipe off my face.
“I see we have company,” she teases, a knowing glint in her eyes.
I grin wider. Lucy was here through the worst of it—through the weeks I moped around this place like a ghost after Amy didn’t follow me to LA.
“She’s here,” I say, the words tasting better than I imagined. “Finally.”
Lucy’s smile softens. “She was always going to come. You’re a good man, Mr. Hollander.”
I sigh, scrubbing a hand over my face. “You’re gonna love her, Lucy. She’s… extraordinary.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
I glance at my watch and curse under my breath. No time for breakfast. Hell, no time for anything except getting my ass out the door.
“Can you make her something special?” I ask, already scribbling on the notepad we keep on the kitchen island.
Morning, Fangirl.
I love you.
Sorry I didn’t wake you—you looked too damn peaceful. I’ll see you tonight. Ask Lucy for anything you want. Make yourself at home.
Also… did I mention I love you?
I set the note down, shoot Lucy one last grateful look, and head for the door.
The meeting’s at some random hotel—fifth floor, nondescript and forgettable. Nothing about it screams blockbuster franchise in the making, which is exactly the point. The secrecy around Joseph Gordon’s project could rival the Pentagon.
I step inside the suite, and it’s all business. No warm welcomes, no coffee and croissants—just Joseph’s team, silent and focused. The kind of people who make billion-dollar deals before breakfast.
Of course, Joseph himself isn’t here.
The man barely leaves his glass-walled penthouse these days. Probably watching us right now on some oversized monitor, sipping a thousand-dollar whiskey, judging every move.
I’ve only met him once—briefly. The day he offered me Valorion, the lead in his next golden goose, the superhero franchise: Legion Ascendant.
And honestly? I’ll probably only see him again when we’re standing shoulder to shoulder on some red carpet, pretending this was fun.
“You’re late,” Roberta snaps. She’s Gordon’s right hand—and by the looks of her, the one who does most of the breaking. Hollywood kisses the floor she walks on.
“I am.” I don’t bother making excuses. Maybe once, I’d have stumbled over myself trying to impress them, but not now. Not when my real prize is still lying warm in my bed, smelling like sunshine and sex.
Roberta eyes me, her lips twitching like she’s fighting a smirk.
“What’s this meeting about?” I ask, leaning back like I’ve got all the time in the world.
Her mouth presses flat, but there’s something almost approving in her eyes. “We’re ready to announce,” she says. “The new Gordon era. The next big thing.” Her gaze sharpens. “And you, Jake, are the face of it.”
That makes me sit up a little straighter because suddenly, it’s real. My stomach twists. Not now. Not when everything with Amy feels so fragile, like one wrong move might break us.
“Already?” I ask, my pulse ticking up.
“Is that a problem?”
I hesitate—because, yeah, it kind of is. I’ve got Amy back, barely settled into this new fragile us, and now they want to throw me headfirst into a global spotlight?
“No. Not exactly. Just… wasn’t sure we were there yet.”
Roberta shrugs, cool and unbothered. “You might not be, but we are. We’ve cast seventy-five percent of the first film. Joseph’s in creative mode—locked in, finalizing scripts, scouting locations.”
Creative mode. I know what that means. Gordon’s deep in the trenches, hyper-focused in that way only a brilliant, obsessive mind can be. It’s when he’s unstoppable—and when the magic happens.
I scrub a hand over my face. “What about Will? Has he been cast?” I drop my hand, fixing her with a steady stare. “It was one of my conditions.”
Roberta exhales sharply. “We’re… still discussing it. The studio’s pushing back. Honestly, Jake, we’re wondering if you’d reconsider for a bigger paych—”
“No.” My voice is sharp and final. “Will gets the part. That was the deal.”
The man beside her, some suit I didn’t bother learning the name of, chimes in. “He’s unreliable. He delayed The Last Soldier by two weeks. In our world, that’s millions.”
“He won’t delay anything,” I grit out. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“You know,” the guy presses, “not everyone deserves that kind of unwavering loyalty. Some people? They drag you down.”
I stare at him, my jaw tight. What he doesn’t get is—without Will, I wouldn’t even be sitting here.
“I have something called integrity,” I say quietly. “Loyalty. I know you want those words plastered all over your movie promos—but I live by them. I don’t just turn that off when it’s inconvenient.”
Silence stretches, thick and tense.
Roberta sighs. “Fine. He’ll be Paladin.”
I nod once. Paladin—sarcastic sidekick, the comic relief. Minimal screen time, but honestly? I don’t give a damn. Will gets his shot, and that’s all that matters.
Tapping my fingers against my thigh, I fight the urge to check the time again. “So… is that why I’m here? Because this could’ve been an email. And Landon should’ve told you—I rarely change my mind.”
The irritation leaks through, but I don’t care. I left my bed for this. I could’ve stayed wrapped around Amy for another hour.
Roberta sighs like she expected it. “No.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a slim folder—smaller than a script, but not by much. “It’s too early for the actual screenplay, but this…” She hands it over. “This is Valorion’s character arc and backstory.”
I flip through the pages with little interest. “You still could’ve emailed it.”
That earns a sharp laugh that sounds cold and amused.
“Please. We don’t do digital. Too easy to hack.
Joseph writes on a machine that’s never been connected to the internet.
” She taps the bold number stamped on the top corner.
“And this? That’s your unique watermark.
If anything leaks, we’ll know exactly who to blame. ”
I stare at the number, exhaling hard. “Christ… this is Pentagon-level paranoia.”
You’re getting paid a hundred and eighty million for this, so smile the fuck up. Landon’s voice echoes in my head, smug as hell.
Roberta smirks like she can hear it too. “Pentagon’s got nothing on us. Review it—if you’ve got concerns about Valorion or his backstory, let us know in the next two weeks. Joseph will… take it under advisement.”
I nod, rising to my feet. “I’ll protect it with my life.”
She gives me an approving smile, clearly missing the sarcasm. Amy wouldn’t have. She’d be grinning already, reading every ounce of bullshit on my face.
I glance at my watch. “Anything else?”
Roberta shakes her head. “No. We’re announcing the new Gordon era soon, but your name stays quiet until after Persefia releases.”
Relief hits hard and fast, loosening something in my chest. For the first time all morning, I smile—small but real.
Good. That gives me time. Time to ease Amy into this madness before the world comes knocking.
By the time I make it back to my car, the stupid file is tucked under my arm like it’s worth its weight in gold. I drop into the driver’s seat, sigh, and pull out my phone.
Yeah, I’m whipped. Fully aware. Can’t even pretend to care.
Me: Morning, Sunshine. I’ll be home late afternoon, but I cleared my whole schedule after that. Two days—just you and me.
I barely set the phone down when it buzzes, and my lips twitch into a grin as I hit the hands-free button. “Morning, my love. Did you sleep well?”
A beat of silence, then, “That’s new… but I don’t mind it. Call me that from now on.”
I laugh, shaking my head as I merge into traffic. “I thought you were Amy.”
Will snorts. “Ah, now I’m really hurt, sweetheart.”
I grin and settle back. “What’s up?”
“I was thinking of swinging by to see Amy. Say hello. But then I figured… what if you two were in full-on fuckfest mode? I didn’t wanna be the guy cockblocking the slow burn of the century.”