Page 57 of Anyone But the Superstar

Either my ears are waterlogged, making Anne’s voice deeper, or there’s someone else willing to jump in after Mike Hunt.

Someone with heavily muscled arms and solid shoulders.

Tilting my head back against one of the shoulders now propping my head up, I find myself staring into dark-brown eyes ringed with vivid green. ‘Hold on to the, uh, cat, and just let your body relax as I pull you in.’

I might be suffering from oxygen deprivation. Or muscle fatigue. Or quite possibly my brain hasn’t recovered from Anne’s reality-altering kiss. But whatever it is, as the muscular man with pretty eyes floats me to safety, I have the strange thought that I might want to start looking into damsels-in-distress roles.

Because being rescued isn’t half bad.

Mike shifts, clawing my nipple.

Minus the cat, of course.

Liz

‘What in the ever-loving fuck just happened?’ Ron’s temper, momentarily checked when his leading man jumped into a pool to save an ass-assaulting hairless cat, explodes once more.

Felix winces before giving him one of the two towels that someone handed him and the guy next to him. The guy who helped save him and Mike.

Too overcome with relief to be concerned with Ron’s implosion,I cuddle a wet and weakened Mike Hunt to my chest while the crew scurries to find more towels.

Mike nuzzles me, something hard and pointy digging into my shirt. Pulling back, my eyes narrow on the hair clip clenched between his chattering jaw.

Feeling murderous, I search the crew for a white tank top.

‘Someone get more towels.’

‘Call wardrobe for a new outfit.’

‘Where thehellis Amanda?’

The crew, formerly frozen in shock, jumps into action. I can’t find Sylvie among them. If she ran, she’s smart. Because if I catch hold of her now, feeling like this, I’d end up doing something truly horrific.

Something worse than a quick punch to the implant. Or some impromptu water boarding in front of her movie-star crush.

No, I’d do something that would scar her for life – both mentallyandphysically.

Something demonic like spraying her with edible glitter and locking her in a room with a disco ball and a catnip-drugged Mike Hunt whilst Tom Jones’ ‘What’s New Pussycat?’ played on repeat.

I’m startled out of my vengeance planning when the guy who helped Felix and Mike catches my eye. Having been so concerned with Mike, I failed to notice how attractive he is. Or how shirtless. Standing in a pair of board shorts, he looks like a wet, muscular K-Pop idol Ken doll come to life.

‘Everything all right?’

It takes a second for his words to compute. Oddly, it’s the same amount of time it takes to stop staring at his abs.

‘Um, yes. Yes, it is.’ I hug Mike closer to my chest. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’

‘Yeah.’ Felix flares out the new towel someone tossed him and wraps it around me, obscuring my view of K-Pop Ken. ‘Thanks for the help.’ Pulling me closer to him, he peers over my shoulder to see Mike. ‘How’s the little guy doing?’

Mike slow blinks while using my boob as his pillow, the maniacal feline already starting to doze. Which isn’t surprising considering he’s gotten more physical activity in the last five minutes than he probably has all year.

With the tube-topped object of my anger not here to rage against, the tears of relief that have threatened since Felix managed to catch up to Mike in the dead center of the pool are harder to hold back. ‘Fine, I—’ I clear my throat. ‘Fine, I think.’

Felix’s eyes catch mine.

A drop of water slides down his temple, close to his mouth, and his breath hitches.

As does mine.

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