15. Nate
Chapter 15
“Cut!”
I break away from Sharla and glare at her. “Garlic again? You’re such a bitch.”
She laughs. “I can’t stay away from the things I like to eat, Nate. Even if I do adore you.”
“Remember, two can play that game.”
She spreads her arms wide. “Bring it.”
“When you least expect it, sweetheart.”
She laughs again, linking her arm through mine as we walk over to our next marker. “So, Dex is the special one, then?”
I frown. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do. I’ve been working with you for three years, Nate. You’ve never brought a woman to set. Not once.”
I shrug. “She’s different. Fun. I like her.”
“Then, try not to fuck it up.”
“I’ll do my best,” I say, my voice dripping sarcasm as I seek out where I left Dex. Except she isn’t there. I scan around, but I can’t see her.
“Where the hell is she?” I say, more to myself than Sharla. I poke my head behind the fake wall she’d been sitting in front of, but there’s no sign.
“Relax,” Sharla says. “Maybe she’s gone to the restroom.”
“How long do we have before shooting the next scene?”
“Five seconds,” Mike, our director says, appearing at my shoulder.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
The second Mike shouts “Cut!”, I shoot over to where I left Dex and question a couple of the crew who are hanging about, but they haven’t seen her, either.
I scour the set, but she’s nowhere to be found. What the hell is going on? She’d been fine when I left her. Maybe she’d gotten bored and gone home, but I doubt it. Rudeness isn’t Dex’s thing. She’d have waited for a break and then told me she was leaving.
What if something has happened with her mom, maybe, or her sister?
I call her cell, but it goes straight to voicemail. Damn it. I’m stuck here until we finish tonight’s schedule. My mood darkens, and I snap at a couple of extras who fuck up the next scene by stepping off their markers.
Finally, at five to two in the morning, Mike calls a wrap. I don’t say goodnight to a single soul. After jogging to my car, I jump in and call Dex’s cell again. Still no answer.
Forty minutes later, I park outside her apartment. On my way upstairs, I try calling once more with no luck.
As concern settles in my belly, and with my heartbeat thundering in my ears, I bang on her door. Silence. I knock again. Nothing.
“Dex, are you in there? It’s Nate. Open up. I’m worried.” When I don’t hear anything from inside, I try one final time. “Dex? Is everything okay?”
Finally, I hear a sound—a shuffling. Maybe she felt unwell and hadn’t found the right break in filming to let me know. But the door doesn’t open. Instead, she decides to hold a conversation through the damn thing. Well, conversation is a bit of an overstatement, because all I get is, “Fuck off, Nate.”
My eyebrows shoot up. What the hell?
“Open the door.”
“No.”
I clench my jaw. I wouldn’t mind her being pissy at me if I knew what I’m supposed to have done. “Open the goddamn door.”
“Go home.”
I pick up on the slight waver to her voice. Time to press my advantage.
“Not without you, Titch,” I say softly.
Silence greets me. I expect to hear the rattle of a chain, the click of a lock, but I get neither.
“Aww, Sharla turned you down again, has she? So you thought you’d come and take out your frustration and your hard-on with me? Because, of course, I’d be willing. Of course, I’d be grateful. Superstar Nate O’Reilly noticing little old me. A nobody. A tool for you to use to make Sharla jealous. Am I right?”
Shock slams into me, and I actually take a step back as if an invisible force physically shoved me in the chest. What. The actual. Fuck?
“No,” I bite back. “You’re wrong. So fucking wrong, Titch. Where the hell did you get such a crazy idea?”
The door next to Dex’s apartment opens, and a woman in her late sixties steps into the hallway wearing a floor-length, pale-green nightgown, with a white bow no less, and a head full of hair curlers. I suppress a grin. From the glower on her face, I guess she won’t welcome my winning smile.
“What is going on out here? Do you know what time it is, young man?”
I lower my head. “Sorry, ma’am.”
“Sorry won’t help me fall back to sleep without a cup of hot milk now, will it? It’s obvious to anyone with half a brain that Dex doesn’t want to talk to you. Go home. Come back tomorrow at a more reasonable hour.”
She disappears inside with a huff, slamming her door behind her.
Well, shit.
“Dex,” I hiss through the door. “Open up, will you, before Jessica Fletcher comes out and chastises me again.”
I hope slipping in some humor might soften her. I need to find out what the hell she meant about Sharla. She’s obviously been fed some misinformation, and I can’t allow that to fester. I’ll stay out here all night if I have to.
Finally, the chain rattles, and the lock turns. I get one look at her and know I’m in trouble. Her arms are crossed under her chest, and she’s got one hip cocked out to the side.
Humor didn’t work, then.
“Can I come in?”
“Sorry. My vagina isn’t open for sympathy fucks this evening.”
I hold back a grin. God, she’s infuriating but also magnificent. Angry Dex definitely turns me on, although right now probably isn’t the best time to share that thought.
“Let’s talk.”
I take a step forward, testing the water, my eyes locked on hers.
She exhales through her nose, then spits, “This should be good,” before she wheels around and plunks herself on the tiny sofa.
I close the door and sit beside her, my ankle resting over my knee in a show of nonchalance, even though I’m anything but. I try to pinpoint when this thing between us moved from having a bit of fun to something much… more. Where I care. A lot. But I can’t. All I know is that I need this woman in my life.
“Okay, let’s start with you telling me what is going through that gorgeous head of yours.”
Her lips flatten into a thin line. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this with throwaway compliments.”
I offer her a crooked smile. “As soon as I know what I’m supposed to be trying to get out of, I’ll adjust my approach accordingly.”
A hard glare is followed by a sigh before her chin drops to her chest. “Is something going on between you and Sharla?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
I clench my jaw. “I don’t lie.” Not directly, anyway. Keep secrets, yep, absolutely. But I do that for my brothers, to protect them and Mom’s memory. “But in the spirit of full disclosure, Titch, we did sleep together. Once. Over two years ago. What I’d like to know is… who told you?”
She lifts her chin. “I heard a couple guys talking when you were doing that scene. The one where you kissed. They basically implied I was only there as a way to get Sharla to sleep with you.”
She almost turns green. I like the fact she’s jealous because it means she gives a shit, but regardless, if I find those two fucks, I’ll rip them a new asshole.
I graze my knuckles down her bare arm. “Titch, TV and movie sets are hotbeds for gossip. You can’t believe anything you hear.”
She inches her head forward so her hair covers her face, and I tuck it behind her ear to get a better look at her.
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to just ask me instead of all this… drama?”
She twists her lips to one side. “Probably.”
“Then, why didn’t you?”
She exhales slowly. “I don’t know, Nate. All this”—she swings her hand between us—“is so unbelievable. I’m out of my depth here.” She nibbles on her bottom lip. “I can’t go to New York with you. I’ll find a way to pay you back, I promise.”
My pulse jolts. No way. She has to come. I need her. She’s stopped being a distraction to take my mind off being back home, instead becoming someone I want to introduce to my family, and show her where I grew up, as well as the places I hung out when playing hooky. The alley where I had my first fumble beneath a girl’s skirt. Okay, maybe not that, but the rest of it. Yep, I want it all.
“You have to come.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
Fuck. Wrong approach, dickhead.
I rub my fingertips over my lips. “That came out wrong. What I meant to say was that I really want you to come. I get it, Dex. This is new for both of us, but what better way to get to know someone than to go on a short vacation.”
She bites the inside of her cheek and closes her eyes, a soft sigh spilling from her lips. “I don’t know, Nate. What about my cat?”
“Your cat?” I raise my eyebrows. “Can’t you put it in a cattery?”
“It? Milo is a him.” She wrinkles her nose. “I suppose I could ask my sister to have him for a few days.”
“Problem solved.”
She chews her bottom lip but before she can throw out any more excuses, I take her hand and pray the right words come out of my mouth.
“I’m so twisted up over you, Titch. I can’t even figure out when it happened. Maybe when you called me out that night at the club, or maybe the quiet dignity you showed in front of Bernard when you had every right to twist his balls until the fucker passed out. Or when I first got inside you and you looked up at me with those beautiful eyes that begged me not to stop moving.” I knit my fingers into her hair and tilt her head back. “Tell me you feel the same.”
Our eyes meet, her dove-gray one’s doing funny things to my insides.
“I don’t want to get hurt.”
I sense a weakness and press my advantage with a soft brush of my lips against hers. I can’t promise not to hurt her, and damn if I’m going to lie.
“I don’t know where this is going any more than you do, but if we don’t try, how will we know what might have been? Don’t leave me hanging. Come to New York. Be mine, Dexter Nolan.”
She closes her eyes, and when she opens them, they’re full of tears. Surprise sends my eyebrows shooting up. Dex isn’t the teary type. Before I can ask her what’s wrong, she climbs onto my lap and flings her arms around my neck.
“I’ll be yours.”