Chapter 16 #2
I gasp, pull back—but he’s already distracted by leaving a trail of kisses down my neck.
“Don’t we have to get going?”
“You drive me crazy,” he mumbles. “Let’s stay.”
I place my hands on his shoulders and push him back, reluctantly. A strand of his hair drops to his forehead. I reach up and put it back in place.
“Absolutely not,” I say, regaining composure. “I’ve been stressing about this for days. We’re going.”
He straightens his jacket with a dramatic sigh. “There’s nothing for you to stress about. You’ll be the star of the show.”
I scowl. “Not sure if that’s going to be a good thing—considering some people think you hired me for the event.”
I stride out of the apartment, head high, pretending I’m unaffected. He’s left to close the door behind us.
“Wait—what are you talking about?” he says. I hear him jog down the hall as he catches up to me. “Who said that?”
“Sam,” I say, trying not to sound too bitter. “She said they did a great job picking me.”
“Shit.” He sounds genuinely upset. “I told Peter and assumed he’d handle the internal stuff. I thought everyone knew.”
I spin around and draw circles around my face with my finger, being extremely dramatic. Now that I know it was a small miscommunication, I can have fun with it.
“Perfect features,” I state. “Can’t you see?”
He holds the big wooden front door open for me. Waiting outside, of course, is a white limousine. Because nothing screams under the radar like a bright limo on a crowded street.
The driver comes out and ushers me in. I slide across the leather seat, Harrison following close behind. He turns to me, brow raised.
“Are you actually mad? Or just pulling my chain?”
“It was uncomfortable,” I admit. “But I get it. Just a misunderstanding.”
I glance out the window. “Honestly, just a small reminder that what we have going on is weird as hell.”
“There’s nothing weird about this,” he states as if I had just said the most hurtful thing he’s ever heard. “What does my job have to do with who I decide to fall in love with?”
There it is again.
The L word.
“Uh… nothing, I guess,” I fumble. I don’t think he’s registering what he just said.
He takes my hand and runs his thumb along the inside of my wrist, grounding me.
“Relax,” he says softly. “I know you’re nervous. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
If only he knew that’s not at all what I’m tense about.
The traffic thickens as we move deeper into the city, but everything outside the car still looks deceptively normal. I take a second to look at him. His jaw is tight, and his leg’s bouncing like it did the day we first met.
“I think you’re more nervous than I am,” I tell him.
He nods and gives me a lopsided smile. “Probably. But I do have the best escort of the night.”
I roll my eyes and give his shoulder a light slap. He shrugs innocently.
I lean in until our lips are barely an inch apart. The kiss is soft, gentle but heavily charged. I feel him settle beside me, like I’ve flipped some invisible switch. We both pull back, far enough to meet each other’s eyes.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. Doing this—for me,” he gestures around. “It proves no one can touch the confidence you have in yourself.”
The car comes to a stop by the side of the theater. With the engine off, I finally hear the crowd. Screaming. Cameras clicking.
“Maybe you’re just seeing the trust I have in you,” I say. “Or I’m just using you so I can be the first one to see Shadow Strike. I hope Matt Hunt is there. All-time crush.”
His eyebrow raises. “I’ll make sure we don’t cross paths.”
There’s jealousy in his smirk, the cute kind that makes you feel a little more claimed than you did two seconds ago.
“Ready?” he asks.
To our left, through his window, the infamous red carpet unrolls toward the big double doors of the theater. Things seem calm on our end, but just a few feet away the flashes go off like lightning.
I nod. Right on cue, our doors swing open.
Harrison steps out first, circling around to get mine with an outstretched hand. He takes a deep breath, and I squeeze his hand tightly, trying to be as supportive as I can be without freaking out myself.
Staff guides us through. We pause in line as the flashes grow louder and closer.
Someone spots him and calls out, setting off a chain reaction. Screams erupt. I tense up involuntarily. Everything is so bright. I don’t even know where I’m going. I’m shamelessly being pulled forward.
“Josh! Josh!” a woman shrieks from the barricade. “Marry Me!”
I glance at him. He mouths ‘already taken’––and then, classic Harrison, he proceeds to focus completely on me, eyes unwavering.
“You OK?” he yells over the noise. I nod. A few steps later, the giant doors of the theater loom in front of us.
“Good evening, Mr. Harrison,” says a staff member. “She’ll have to wait here.”
That was not the plan, I think.
“That’s not going to happen. She comes with,” Harrison says flatly.
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m just following orders.”
He lifts his brow. “Then ask whoever gave them. If you want me to go in there through the main doors, I go with her by my side.”
I tug gently on his sleeve. The last thing we need is a public standoff.
“Hey,” I whisper. “It’s OK. I can wait here for a couple of minutes.”
He shakes his head. The crowd is now chanting his name, waiting for him to arrive. The suited guy with the earpiece returns and nods at him.
“You can go through.”
I exhale—shaky and loud. I follow it by a couple of belly breaths, the kind I was taught after the breakup. I square my shoulders and follow Harrison into the spotlight.
It’s strange, being the one on the other side of the camera for once. I tilt slightly towards him, his hand sliding down to the small of my back. My free hand rests on his chest. I can’t see a thing through the lightstorm, but I give them my best smile.
“Are we supposed to do anything special?” I ask, feeling a little bit awkward.
“I can think of a couple of things we could do to make this interesting,” he smirks.
Before I can reprimand him, another suited man escorts us inside of the building.
“That wasn’t that bad,” I say as the heavy theater doors close behind us.
Inside, the world is quieter but no less glamorous. The smell of fresh popcorn tangled with overpriced perfume hits me like a rich person’s fever dream.
“I wouldn’t know. I was too busy looking at you.” He leans down to plant a kiss on my cheek. “Follow me. I’ll introduce you to the cool people around.”
“I think you’re pretty cool yourself,” I mutter, strolling behind him.
For the next thirty minutes, I meet all sorts of characters. Producers, writers, actors… you name it. But surprisingly, between themselves, they’re not all that bad. A little over-the-top, sure, but not rip-my-eyes out obnoxious.
Harrison seems to be enjoying himself, and that’s all I can ask for. He’s deep in conversation with someone named Erik when I spot her.
A bright red dress. Sleek. Bold.
Emily Lawrence.
I recognize her immediately, thanks to Emma’s not-so-subtle deep dives. I didn’t expect her here. If Harrison knew anything about it, he didn’t share either.
The woman he practically went into hiding for just walked in the room like she owns it.
She turns and catches me staring. I spin faster than humanly possible and try to get the hang of whatever Harrison’s talking about.
Please don’t come over. Please don’t come over and accuse me of being a creep.
I risk a glance, just a sliver of vision. Red’s getting dangerously close.
I brace myself for the first scene of the night. I wait until she’s walking in front of us. She doesn’t stop. She looks at me dead in the eyes and smirks. Then, like a slow-motion villain, she turns to Harrison and blows him a kiss. A literal kiss.
I can feel my blood come to a boil. I’m angrier than when Noah showed up. Feeling almost just as disrespected.
I know he’s seen her because he stiffens beside me. I expect a reaction. A warning. But he does neither. He straightens up and continues the conversation as if nothing has happened.
So I do the same.
Even with all the red-light alarms going off in my head, I pose, smile, and continue with the evening. There’s no time to discuss this.
The movie begins, and even though Shadow Strike 2 is somehow better than the original (which I didn’t think was possible), I can’t shake the discomfort. Harrison’s been distracted as well, his gaze wandering around from time to time.
When the credits roll, the cast and crew rise and wave. The rest of the theater follows suit, rising to their feet in perfect unison. The applause resonates around the entire room with a rhythm of its own. Cheers and whistles pierce through the beat.
As people begin to funnel out, Harrison grabs my hand. But instead of heading for the exit, he pivots—straight toward none other than Matt Hunt.
“Uh, where are we going?” I tug slightly in the opposite direction.
“You wanted to meet Matt,” he smirks. “You’re meeting Matt.”
“That was a joke,” I whisper, a little embarrassed. “A very unserious joke.”
He nods but doesn’t stop. Matt’s surrounded by half the theater, taking the flattery like a champ. Up close, I catch the telltale signs of his fake smiles and obligatory hugs. And yet, when he spots Harrison, his face lights up with surprise. I frown.
“No way,” I hear him say as he pushes through the crowd. “You crazy asshole came to my premiere and didn’t even tell me?”
They wrap each other in a bear hug, patting themselves on their backs so hard I almost feel it in my own ribs. Why didn’t I know about this bromance?
“And who’s this?” Matt asks, turning to me.
I extend my hand to introduce myself, but he takes hold of it and presses a kiss to the top like a storybook prince.
I blush—obviously. I’m only human.
“Julia Thomas,” I say. “Great movie—better than the last one.”
He’s no Harrison, but he’s still one of Hollywood’s most eligible bachelors. Dirty-blonde hair parted to the side like a good boy, shining under the lights like it’s got its own PR team.
“I like her,” he says to Harrison with a wink. His blue eyes constantly embody a mischievous look. “How’d you find a woman like this after your little stunt?”
“Oh,” I chirp, smiling sweetly before Harrison can jump in. “I was hired!”
Matt tilts his head, clearly amused, weighing how much he believes me.
“She wasn’t,” he answers flatly, with a roll of his eyes. Irritation flashes across his face.
I grin, unapologetically. Matt looks at me for confirmation, and I just shrug. He chuckles.
“Beautiful and funny,” he says. “You’re so out of your league, Harrison. What do you say, Julia—fancy another job?”
Before I can answer, Harrison wraps his arm around my waist and tugs me flush against him.
“Stick to your superstars, Hunt,” he says, that protective edge back in his voice. “This one’s taken.”
“He wasn’t being flirty,” I say, my head leaning against his shoulder. We’ve just left the theater. I don’t have to ask where we’re going to know that it’s not back to mine.
“I think he was just surprised to see you—especially with another woman.”
“Oh love,” he says, not missing a beat. “It wasn’t a question. He was surprised—with you. In Hollywood, everyone’s open until proven otherwise. He was blatantly flirting.”
I sit up and squint my eyes at him. “You’re telling me I could have a shot with not one, but two of the sexiest men alive?”
He lifts a brow. “Am I not keeping you satisfied enough?”
His hand travels down my leg teasingly before coming back up, this time on the inside of my dress. My entire body heats up like I’ve just walked into a sauna. Every pressure point, every movement, with a heightened sensitivity.
His fingers pause right above my knee. I glance forward, suddenly aware that the hem of my dress is now hovering dangerously mid-thigh—and we’re still in a moving car.
“Can’t see or hear a thing,” he murmurs, before grabbing my waist and pulling me onto his lap, straddling him.
He holds me in place—exactly where he wants me. His mouth finds my neck, trailing soft kisses up to my ear. He gives a playful bite. A moan escapes before I can stop it, and my head tilts to give him more space.
“Answer my question,” he whispers.
My breath catches.
“I only want you.”
His lips curve into a smirk at the crook of my neck. “Good,” he grunts, his voice low, fogging up every coherent thought. “Because you’re all I want too.”
I can feel him thrust upwards just so slightly, and my pulse quickens with pure unleashed need. My fingers tug at his hair, pulling him back enough to look into his eyes. Now darkened with mischief, desire, and something deeper—something I’m scared to even consider.
I don’t know how long we sit like this, the world on the outside fading until all we hear is the low hum of the engine taking us through the city lights.
His right hand releases my hip to brush away a loose strand of hair. Then he cups my cheek. I lean into his touch, relishing the warmth radiating from his skin.
I go in soft—just a chaste kiss. He doesn’t move. He’s still staring at me.
“What are you thinking about?” I whisper.
He shakes his head, a sweet smile forming on his face, before meeting my lips with his.
The kiss deepens slowly. A push and pull—a conversation about things we’ve been too scared to bring up. I glance at him once more confirming what I feared. I’m way past the return point.
Here’s to hoping I don’t get hurt again, I think to myself before sealing it with another kiss. This time it’s unrestricted. He pulls me in until there’s nothing left between us but heat.
“I want you,” he whispers in the small breaks we take for air. His honesty is dizzying, like falling and flying at the same time.
“If we keep this up,” I manage. He bites my lower lip, and I let out another moan.
“I can assure you,” I say, “it’s not going to matter if he can’t see or hear us.”
“You,” he growls. “You’re making me lose my mind.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper innocently. “Maybe we should wait... until we’re behind closed doors.”
His grip tightens, and for a moment, I think he might protest. Instead, he nods, not without grumbling, before sliding me back into my seat.
“Home it is,” he says, the promise and the anticipation in his voice electrifying.