Chapter 13 #2
What the hell was Hope insinuating? Angelica was trying to make this easier for her, to put more separation between them, not try to fool the entire fan base into thinking there was more going on than there actually was.
“No,” Angelica said firmly. “I think it’s better if we don’t play up something that’s not there.”
“Not there,” Hope repeated, those two words ringing between them in a despair Angelica didn’t know existed.
But there couldn’t be anything between them.
“Hope, we’re not…” Angelica stopped speaking. She looked around them, making sure that no one was eavesdropping before she leaned in closer and lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “We can’t.”
“I never said we were.” Hope blinked at her wildly. “But what if we don’t correct those assumptions when they’re made either—by fans, obviously. Not by those around us.”
“That’s dangerous territory.”
“I do like a little bit of danger.” Hope winked at her before focusing back on her wine. “Don’t you?”
Hope didn’t look back at her, as if she was a little scared of the answer. Angelica paused, debating exactly what to say, and whether to continue their level of comfort or to end it. Hope wrapped her fingers around Angelica’s wrist, squeezing lightly.
“Angel?”
She couldn’t avoid any longer. Shaking her head, Angelica turned her wrist and broke the touch.
But she could still feel Hope’s warm fingers if she closed her eyes, the tingle and thrill that it sent through her.
“I think we should keep as much of that speculation under wraps as we possibly can. We’re co-leads on a show, and your husband is our director.
” She wanted to add so much more to that, to say she wasn’t willing to risk it, to tell Hope that they shouldn’t play with fire when there was no extinguisher around, that she just flat out wasn’t interested.
But she couldn’t make those words leave her lips.
Because in all honesty, she wanted so much more.
She wanted what they were implying to be true.
She begged for the touches Hope gave her to be so much more than simply fleeting.
Perhaps for the kisses they’d shared to be where they were again, pressed against each other, touching, teasing.
Angelica drew in a ragged breath, blinking and finding herself staring directly into Hope’s crystalline eyes, wide with recognition.
She couldn’t hide it.
Correction—they couldn’t.
Hope was staring at her in the same manner, lips slightly parted, cheeks rosy with arousal, breathing uneven, and as if she was on the cusp of just leaning slightly forward enough that they would touch.
Angelica couldn’t move away, completely entranced and stuck in this moment of possibilities and dreams and desires.
Angelica found herself sliding forward, her fingers inching along the edge of the cold counter, closer to where Hope’s hand was, the one she’d just pushed away from her, but now wanted back. She wanted so much back.
The clarity of why they were here and what they could and couldn’t do.
The words she’d spoken to Rex—the fact that she wouldn’t fight for Hope.
The serenity in understanding what her position was, whether she wanted it to be that way or not.
Hope’s phone sounded loudly, jolting them both out of the reverie. Her hand hit the wine glass, knocking it over to the point of shattering along the counter, the dark red liquid pouring over the edge and onto Angelica’s knee.
“Shit,” Hope mumbled, snagging a black cloth napkin and shoving it onto Angelica’s leg. She dabbed the spill, soaking up the liquid.
Angelica covered her hand, pressing the napkin into her knee and thigh before pausing.
Her heart raced. That very same urge as before, to wrap her fingers around Hope’s hand, coming straight back into her.
The struggle to resist was so difficult, to the point that she couldn’t move.
She couldn’t force herself away or make Hope stop touching her.
Hope’s phone went off again, then Angelica’s.
Holding her breath, Angelica reached for her phone in her purse and pulled it out. She had a text from Lyric, reminding her that her plane was leaving shortly. Frowning at it, Angelica checked the time and then cursed.
“We need to leave. Now.”
Hope stumbled upward, her front pressing against Angelica’s as they both moved together. Angelica froze, her heart racing, her entire body firing on all cylinders that it shouldn’t be.
“W-we’re going to miss our flight,” Angelica murmured, her fingers grasped around her phone hard because it was her life saver at the moment.
Hope said nothing, finally stepping back and making space between them. Angelica nearly groaned at the loss of contact. But she managed to dig into her purse for cash, dropped it onto the counter and then took her suitcase.
This would be the longest flight on the planet.
And they were only going from Los Angeles to Kansas City.
A little over three hours and then she could breathe again.
Three hours until she could be in her own space, her own room, and maybe find her sanity.
Who the hell was she kidding?
She was going to go to her room and drown in this sea of arousal she’d been plopped into.