Nine
Darla
I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say: not a good sign. When a man has you begging him for sex, then answers his phone instead? When he doesn’t have kids and he’s not, like, a doctor on call? When there’s no clear reason that you’re a low priority?
If this were anyone but Jesse, I’d already be buckling myself into my car. Instead I stroll around his living space, my legs still trembling from the aftershocks of that orgasm, inspecting the books on his shelves and the workout equipment fixed to the wall. There are weird bars and handles screwed into the brick that I’m sure help work out individual tiny muscles on his back. Fancy.
Am I being a fool right now?
I chew on the inside of my cheek, running a fingertip along a mystery bar. Jessedidpromise me dinner. Fresh tortellini and lava cake.
And he’s been nothing but sweet and courteous to me this whole time. He’s never once been weird about my weight; he’s never shown a hint of embarrassment to be seen with me.
Not just seen with me—seen publicly in pursuit of me. Desperate for a date. I straighten my shoulders, frowning at a vintage tourism poster on the wall.Not today, insecurities.Not today.
By the time Jesse strides back into the room, his jaw clenched and his blue eyes wary, I’m not spoiling for an argument anymore.
“Who was that?” I ask, then inwardly curse myself out for being nosy. “Not that you need to tell me, obviously—”
“It was my agent.” Jesse shoves his hands in his pockets, watching me closely from across the room. “I’m going for a big audition next week.”
A million feelings swirl up in me at once, charging around me in a big, messy tornado. Is he leavingRiptide? Why didn’t he mention it before? What about Franklin?
What if Jesse becomes a huge international star and doesn’t want to see me anymore? What if he gets a fancy publicist who won’t let him have a fat girlfriend? What if he needs to move away?
Or what if hedoesn’tget it? What if he’s still here when I move to L.A and I have to leave him behind?
Ugh.
“I’m sorry,” Jesse says quietly, and he sounds resigned. “Believe me, I would not have answered the phone for any other reason.”
Well, that’s nice to know at least. And I’m not a lunatic; I get that other things are important too. I want Jesse to be happy, and to have all the success he deserves. Franklin’s words from our earlier conversation float through my brain.
You’re going places, Darla. And Jesse…
“You’re gonna get it,” I blurt. “You’re gonna do so well, Hendry.”
His smile is strained. Shy and uncertain. It’s surreal seeing that expression on one of the finest physical specimens on the planet.
“I might not get it, actually. It’s a big role, and the director’s a huge deal. It’ll be competitive. And I’ve stayed onRiptidefor so long, I might be typecast going forward. People might think that this is all there is to me.”
A pretty face and smoldering eyes. That jaw, with its own Twitter account.
“Well I’m sure you’ll get it. But even if not, there will be other roles. Other auditions.” I swallow hard, and I don’t even know where this is coming from. Maybe I’m way off base, but I feel like Jesse needs to hear this.
The famous star ofRiptideneeds my pep talk. Such a weird world.
“It’s going to happen for you, Jesse.” My fingers pluck at the hem of my dress. His eyes are glowing, searing into me from across the room. “If not next week then soon.”
He takes a step forward. The floorboards creak beneath his muscled weight. “My agent doesn’t think so.”
I scoff, irritated. “Then you need a new agent. What an asshole.” And I have about a million more things to say about that, but now Jesse’s coming for me, barreling across the open plan room.
I lift my arms, heart pounding.
He sweeps me up against his chest, lifting me off my freaking feet, and I’m so dazed that I let out only a single squeak when he carries me aloft, then presses me against the wall.
Jesse Hendry hitches my thighs around his hips. He reaches between us, flicking the top button of his jeans open.