The slippery feeling on my skin won’t go away.
My eyes blink open. There’s a hint of the sun coming through the curtains in our hotel room, but the clock says it’s nine.
Harrison is asleep next to me—unusual for him. I steal the chance to watch him, his aristocratic nose, firm mouth, thick lashes. Golden hair falls over his forehead, his firm chest rising and falling with his breath. The scar he’ll never erase, the one that seems carved into his brain as much as it’s carved into his body.
I’m starting to see the power of forgiving your past while it feels he’s going deeper into his. The worry he carries worries me, for him and for us.
I play with the bracelet still on my wrist, glinting defiantly even in the dull light. It’s nothing I would ever buy myself, but the more I look at it, the more I see me in it—the inscription, which makes my stomach quiver with an emotion I can’t name out loud, but also the cuff. It’s not classic jewelry, and it’s even more special for it.
He asked me to keep it on after we got back.
Since we returned to the hotel, it’s the only thing I’ve kept on.
Now, my body is heavy and languid in the best way, as it always is after a long night with him.
My phone vibrates on the nightstand, and I pick it up.
Beck: Can you check on the house? I need to fuck off for a couple of days.
I’m not the kind of person to overthink other peoples’ internal worlds, but when I set down the phone, I can’t kick the feeling of concern.
The carpet is soft under my bare feet as I shift out of bed and pad naked into the living room, pulling the door closed behind me.
“Yeah,” Beck answers raggedly on the second ring.
“What’s wrong?” I ask under my breath, hoping I don’t wake Harrison in the other room.
“We’re done. I overheard my supposed girlfriend last night saying she was dating me to get on the show and help her own career.”
My ribs ache. “No. I thought you guys were good.”
“Guess you can’t change someone’s heart, you know? She wanted me, but she wanted fame more. The fucked-up thing is I would’ve given it to her if she’d asked.”
I squeeze my eyes shut against the hurt in his voice. “Where are you now?”
“The airport. About to get on a plane for a change of scenery. Shooting’s done for the drama, but I can’t even think aboutBeing Beckright now. If I go on camera trying to live my life, I’m gonna break down. My producer would say the fans’ll be down with it, but he’ll want to vilify the girl.”
“It sounds like she deserves it.”
“I’m not the guy to decide what people deserve.”
Beck might be hurting now, but forgiving her will let him move on. I wish the rest of us could learn the same.
“Don’t leave LA,” I say as I hear Harrison stirring in the other room. “We’re flying back in a couple of hours. I’ll meet you at your place this afternoon.”
The bedroom door opens as I hang up.
“Good morning,” I tell Harrison, who looks rumpled and sexy as fuck. His hair is a mess, his blue eyes at half-mast. He’s naked except for black boxer briefs, the fabric stretched thanks to a very discernable erection, and every muscle and plane of his gorgeous body is on display. My throat dries.
“It is. But we could take a shower and make it better.” His eyes darken as he takes me in, and I’m already wet from his indecently slow inspection.
He wraps both arms around me, the heat of his skin feeling like home.
I hold up my wrist. “Is gold shower-proof?”
“Let’s find out.”
“I want to. You have no idea how much.” He rubs his erection between my thighs, which only makes me groan. “But I need to get back for Beck.”