Chapter 19 #2
I checked the time to see it was only three in the afternoon.
Tripp had to get up at dawn to take me to get my car, but chances were he’d gone back to bed after and was likely still there.
His readthrough had wrapped the day before, and he had the weekend off before more pre-production preparations.
Filming itself wouldn’t begin until after the new year.
I’d known it wouldn’t be a quick process, but there were so many more logistics than I’d anticipated.
It was amazing he’d been able to handle so much with such shitty help.
Me: Thanks.
Mads: Are you doing laundry tonight?
Mads: Or will I see you again at Gilded?
Me: No and no. I have to finish this stupid paper.
Mads: Need help? I can bring smoothies and cheese.
Me: Tempting, but also no. If Tripp sends a copy, we can do movie night, though.
Mads: Uh, pass. I think you’ll want to watch this one alone.
Me: Why?
Mads: You’ll see.
Mads: But at the risk of you changing your mind, I feel it is my BFF duty to remind you that Chase Majors is his co-star.
My stomach instantly soured. Chase Majors was my ex’s boss and, according to Maddie, exactly the kind of spoiled diva we’d encountered countless times at Exquisite Aesthetics. If that wasn’t bad enough, he’d also had a part in launching my father’s pharmaceutical criminal enterprise.
And that was, in fact, nearly enough to make me change my mind. I had no interest in staring at his stupid face for two hours. But I would set my personal grudge aside in the name of professional competency.
Me: I know. I’ll just boo every time he’s on screen.
Mads: A valid response. Now get your work done.
I glared at the phone and my work before doing as she said.
Or at least trying to. I did manage to knock out all the inconsequential busywork my other professors assigned in a desperate attempt to force us to review the coursework before finals.
I was working to get into an unethical mindset for my Business Ownership paper when my phone buzzed.
And my chest tightened.
And my belly swooped.
And my sex got wet.
It was a disconcerting chain of reactions.
But when I checked my messages, it wasn’t Tripp.
Mads: Check your email.
Mads: Make popcorn.
Mads: And remember that it’s a movie, not real life.
Mads: Though maybe have your vibrator charged, too. Just in case.
What kind of movie is this?
I saved all my work and opened the file Maddie forwarded from Tripp, putting it on full screen and settling in.
Let’s hope it’s a good one.
Oh God.
Oh my God.
For the hundredth time, I was thankful that I’d waited to watch Old Flame from the comfort of my own living room. Because also for the hundredth time, I paused the movie to let out a muffled scream, and I was fairly certain that would’ve been frowned upon in the theater.
I hadn’t been sure what I was getting into, other than the general raving about the twisty film. Raving that my handsome boss seemed to be at the pinnacle of. Everyone loved his performance. It was why there’d been the drastic shift in advertising.
The movie wasn’t over yet, and I got it.
Oh man, did I get it.
The layers.
The Easter eggs and breadcrumbs that I’d had to go back to confirm.
The sudden and dramatic twist from love triangle romance to darkly erotic thriller.
And Tripp.
I wasn’t sure I would be able to look at him again. All his charm had turned on a dime to show a total psycho.
A totally hot psycho.
And I was definitely fucked in the head because, unlike the heroine, his red flags wouldn’t have sent me into hiding at a cottage. They would’ve beckoned me closer.
It was shocking to see so much crazed desperation on Tripp’s face, but also…
not. Maybe a day or two before I would’ve been more rocked by seeing my thoughtful, chill boss acting like that, but that was before I’d been the target of his gruff orders.
Before he’d demanded I call him Sir while he ate my pussy and bit me hard enough to leave teeth marks on my ass.
I’d also gotten the distinct impression that he’d been holding back, and I’d spent the better part of the day obsessing about what it would be like without the stipulations or his restraint.
Mental restraints. The literal kind were a point of interest and very much on the table—pun intended.
Seeing that edge to him on screen made me more than curious. I wanted to learn for myself what he was capable of.
What I was capable of.
I pressed play and only made it another five minutes before I had to pause again for another bout of… cuteness aggression wasn’t the right term since there was nothing cute about the way Tripp’s character was lurking outside of his ex’s cottage with his dick in his hand.
Lust aggression.
It was lust aggression that tightened my body and had me kicking my feet as I let out another giddy squeal.
My outburst was cut off by my intercom loudly buzzing.
Oops, maybe I’m being too loud and someone complained.
I got up and hit the button to answer. “Hello?”
The static crinkled before a guy said, “I’ve got a delivery for Greer Moore.”
Since I hadn’t ordered anything, my heart rate kicked up to a thousand as my eyes darted to the stalker flick on my computer. And then I rolled said eyes since it was unlikely a stalker would announce themselves from the very public lobby.
“I’ll be right down.” Grabbing my keys and phone, I slipped on my comfy shoes and took the elevator to the lobby. A guy waited by the door with a big paper bag in one hand and a plastic smoothie cup in the other.
Maddie.
I’m going to have to reiterate that we’re good and there’s no reason for her to worry.
Or bribe me with food.
Though maybe I’ll hold off on sharing that last part until I see what she sent.
Once I got the goods from the man and returned upstairs, I opened the bag to see cheese.
A lot of cheese.
Too much cheese for one person—a viewpoint I never thought I would have, especially while under so much stress.
Along with the cheese itself, there was bread, olives, nuts, spreads, and fruit.
Also too much fruit for one person.
I was about to text Maddie to see if it was a not-so-subtle insinuation that she wanted to join me when my eyes caught on the delivery instructions stapled to the bag. In the print, there was a message from the sender.
Study fuel.
-Tripp
If the movie didn’t already have him at the forefront of my thoughts, being a cheese provider would seal the deal.
I switched to my messages with him and stared at the screen.
The people-pleasing part of me that tried to never be a bother or an inconvenience demanded I tell him the gesture was unnecessary.
But nothing about the way Tripp treated me had ever made me feel like I needed to shrink myself to fade into the background.
He was one of the few people who made me feel seen.
Especially right then since I’d only mentioned once that I craved cheese when I was stressed.
So rather than put up a fight that I didn’t feel like backing up, I kept it simple.
Me: Thank you.
After fixing a small plate, I stashed the rest in the fridge for when I was hungrier and returned to my movie. And then I promptly forgot about the food, my smoothie, and everything outside of Tripp.
A Tripp who’d rocketed the psycho up to an eleven.
It said something about his natural charm that even as he torched his fictional ex’s cottage—with her current boyfriend in it—I was still rooting for him.
Or maybe it was the fact that said boyfriend was played by Chase Majors, so the fire seemed like a completely justified option.
Either way, it left me feeling very conflicted about my response. It didn’t help that my brain kept inserting the real-life Tripp from Gilded into the role he was playing.
Now I know why Maddie suggested I have my vibrator charged.
As the credits rolled, I sat back and let out a shaky exhale.
I’m never going to be able to look at him the same way.
I grabbed my phone to message Maddie my review only to see waiting texts from Tripp. I’d been so engrossed in the movie, I hadn’t noticed my phone going off.
TC: You’re welcome.
TC: How’s your paper going?
TC: I’m hoping your silence means it’s going well and not that you’ve run away.
I didn’t answer his question to tell him that my paper was still unwritten and his idea of running away held a lot of merit.
I texted him the only thing that mattered to me right then.
Me: Will you take me back to Gilded?
Even though I’d left his messages unread for a while, his response came instantly—like he’d been waiting.
TC: Fuck yes. I’ll pick you up in an hour.
Me: It doesn’t have to be tonight.
I wasn’t sure why I said that since even that hour seemed too long to wait.
TC: The fuck it doesn’t.
Sitting there for a moment, I expected nerves and doubt to hit me until I was scrambling to rescind my self-invite.
But there was nothing.
Okay, that wasn’t true. I was nervous, but it was the good kind. The anticipatory kind that left me feeling breathless and giddy and excited.
And it wasn’t just about going to the erotic playground. It was about seeing Tripp.
That should’ve been enough to fill my veins with ice water instead of the Diet Coke and popping candy that bubbled through me.
Logically, I knew that returning there with him wouldn’t be toeing a line. It would be completely crossing it until the line was no longer visible.
But I was doing it anyway.