Page 76 of Romance Is Dead

Teddy shrugged. “She eventually changed her tune. I made her a set of built-in bookshelves last summer.”

“That’s really cool. I had no idea you were talented like that.” I was genuinely impressed. And I also understood. Crocheting wasn’t the same as woodworking, but it helped me relax and it was always satisfying to complete a project.

“You just thought I was talented in other ways, huh?” There was that wicked grin again. “And hey, look what I found.” Straightening from where he’d been bent over the chest, he stood—with my very disheveled-looking wig in hand.

“Oh my God, thank you.” I rushed over, reaching out to grab it. But at the last second, he stretched his arm straight above his head, sending the hairpiece very much out of my reach. I tried to jump and grab it, but to no avail.

“Hey!” I braced myself against his shoulder for leverage as I tried one more time, but he just stretched his arm even further.

“Tell me if you had a good time the other day. Here, with me.”

“No, it’s irrelevant.”

“Or you’ll have to go tell Julian you couldn’t find your wig.” He crooked a finger and used it to tip my head up towards his. “And do you want to have to do that?”

I stared at him, trying to suss out if he was serious. He was smiling but he also didn’t budge, his eyes boring into mine like a dare.

“Why do you want to know so bad?”

“That might have been my best performance. I need the feedback.”

“Oh, come on. Your best ever?”

“Definitely. I don’t pull out those moves for just anyone.”

He’d lowered his arm, the wig very much within reach, but I’d once again forgotten about it. Not just anyone. I hated to read into those words, but they were already making my heart squeeze.

“I had an ok time,” I finally admitted. I wanted to tell him that I’d had a fantastic time, an other-worldly good time, actually. But of course, I couldn’t.

“Just ok?” Teddy dropped the wig on the floor, placing his hands on my hips instead, drawing me closer ever so slowly.

My whole body hummed, feeling like it was fizzing and melting at the same time. I looped my arms around his neck automatically, allowing our bodies to press together. The cocky expression on Teddy’s face was gone, his eyes darkening as he looked down at me. Maybe Mara was right. Would it be such a bad thing to give in and enjoy myself? Shooting would only take a few more weeks, and after that I’d be gone. Hasta la vista, baby.

In the meantime. . .

Feeling reckless, I closed the space between us, pressing my lips to his. I was done resisting, done pretending like I didn’t want this. He immediately deepened the kiss, grabbing my ass and lifting me so my legs looped around his waist. I twined a hand in his shirt, trying to pull him closer than was actually possible. I was alarmed at how desperate I was, how desperate my entire body was, for his touch. He rolled my hips, rocking me against him, and I groaned into his mouth.

Footsteps.

Panting, we wrenched apart, glancing at each other wide-eyed. Rushing toward the door, I flicked off the light, shrouding us in darkness. Teddy crept up next to me, our shoulders pressing together as we leaned toward the door to listen.

It took me a moment to focus, trying to clear my brain from its sexually aroused fog. But once I calmed my breathing enough to listen properly, I immediately recognized the voice. It was Audrey, speaking in a hushed tone, like she was trying to avoid being overheard. She paced the hallway, feet rumbling up and down, up and down the floorboards.

“. . . don’t need to worry, Mum,” she said in her posh British accent. “Everything’s going fine.” A pause. “Yes, I saw the article.”

I winced. The local paper had run a letter to the editor written by a member of the catering company claiming Brent’s death wasn’t an accident. Which, no shit. It had put Natasha in such a bad mood that she’d snapped at a PA earlier that morning for asking her if she needed a cup of coffee.

“It’s a relief he’s gone, honestly. He was fit, but he was a bit of a wanker. He even. . .” Her voice became inaudible as she wandered away.

“‘Fit’?” I mouthed to Teddy.

“It’s British for hot,” he whispered.

“I didn’t know you spoke British.”

He shrugged. “I’ve hung out with a couple girls from thatLove Islandshow. A lot of them are Brits.”

I frowned. I didn’t want to think about Teddy hanging out with hot British women. Or, sorry, fit British women. If the past twenty-four hours had taught me anything, it was that Teddy had a pretty loose definition of the phrase “hanging out.” But before jealousy could fully rear its non-fit head, Audrey’s voice drifted back into earshot.

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