Page 108 of Breaking Free

He chuckled, the warm sound wrapping around her heart. “I bet the holidays were fun growing up.”

“They were, actually, thanks to my dad. He wants me to be safe out here. He’d freak out if he knew I had a stalker.”

“You haven’t told him?”

“No. And I don’t plan to.”

The amusement quickly faded from Tristan’s face. “What about me? A bitter, war-scarred dominant, twelve years your senior with wicked designs on your body? What would he think if you brought your ‘neighbor with benefits’ home for Christmas dinner one day?”

He’d probably have a heart attack, and her mother would be apoplectic. No way would she tell him that. The silence dragged on too long, which was answer enough when a loud knock on the front door saved her. The alarm beeped as Axyl used the code and let himself in.

Not long after, Axyl, the bottomless pit, walked into the kitchen. Instead of good morning, he greeted them with, “Mm. Bacon. Got any left?”

“Help yourself,” Tristan offered quietly.

Piper popped up from her chair, her breakfast untouched. “I need to get dressed, or I’ll be late.”

She was in the hall when the younger man asked, “What did I interrupt? You could cut the tension in here with a knife.”

Axyl didn’t miss much. After back-to-back nights of incredible scenes, two smiles, and a chuckle, Tristan hadn’t changed his mind. He still believed he had too much baggage, and the gap in their ages was too much. She suspected it was more of the former. Twelve years was nothing these days, especially in Hollywood.

Even if she could convince him that age was only a number, how did she overcome baggage and years of bitterness if he never opened up to her about it?

Chapter 26

TWENTY-EIGHT TAKES. That’s how many it took to get the love scene to Hunter’s satisfaction. Wearing nothing but a G-string and pasties and doused liberally in a sticky blend of rosewater and glycerin to replicate sweat, the awkwardness of the situation surpassed her expectations. Dirk was his usual charming self, and he kept losing his “sock” in the sheets, making a long day even longer. It had dragged on for hours, not ending until past 9 p.m.

Exhausted and freezing from the constantly blowing AC, Piper couldn’t get to her dressing room fast enough when Hunter called cut and wrapped for the night. After a lengthy, hot shower, she emerged to find the lights still on, but the hallway was eerily quiet—and empty.

She would have loved to see Tristan’s handsome face but was glad she’d said no to his offer. Having him here would have made the stressful, awkward day much worse.

A sense of unease crept over her as she scanned the corridor for Axyl. He should have been waiting, ready to escort her home. She dug through her purse for her phone to call him when she heard footsteps behind her.

Turning with a teasing comment on the tip of her tongue about him falling down on the job, she froze, seeing Morgan, rumpled as ever, standing at the end of the long hall. She sawhim on set daily, but they hadn’t spoken since her audition. Piper always found him strange and, to be honest, avoided him.

“You’re working late.” She tried being friendly but got a weird feeling as he slowly approached and hoped—no, prayed—Axyl would appear. Where the heck was he?

“I work late a lot,” Morgan said in a sharp tone, close to a sneer. “Unlike you, the star, who is treated like a pampered pet. Must be nice.”

“Is something wrong?” she asked, shocked by his condescending manner.

“Oh yeah, Piper. There’s a lot fucking wrong.”

She recoiled at his language, although she had certainly heard the F-bomb before. Tristan and most of the Rossi guys occasionally let it fly, and there was plenty in the dialogue of the R-rated series. However, it was the first time she had heard it uttered by a crew member directly toward her. Piper glanced behind him, anxiously surveying the hallway. It was just the two of them.

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