Page 35 of Howl for Me
I stand up, still giggling, and walk over to him. “Okay, okay. Let me see.”
He stiffens immediately when I lean in close, like body-tensing, breath-holding stiff. I pause for a second, wondering if it’s really me that does that to him. Can’t be. No way.
I press in, just enough to breathe him in and he smells… good. Really good. Not musky, not gross. He smells like warmth and spice and the after-sun heat that lingers on the skin.
“You smell nice,” I say softly before I can stop myself. My voice sounds too breathy. Too wanting.
His chest rises again, slower this time, as if he’s trying not to react. Water beads trail down his skin. His lips part just slightly.
“Really?” he asks, voice like smoke curling up between us.
I blink fast. Nope. Nope, Cassidy, we’re not doing this. I force myself to snap out of it, push the moment down where all the other little fantasies live. I step back, wave a hand, and fake a dramatic sniff.
“Oh, wait,” I say, leaning back in with a smirk. “Yep, you’re right. You missed a spot right there. Jeez, you reek.”
He bites his bottom lip to keep from laughing, but it doesn’t work. Then with lightning speed, he snaps the towel from around his waist and whips it at me. I yelp and leap back, catching a sting to my thigh as I tumble onto the couch, laughing again.
“Asshole!” I shout through the giggles.
He grins, full and unguarded, just standing there gloriously naked. Water glistens off his skin, his hair messy and curling at the edges. He looks wild and human all at once. And I want him so badly it hurts. But I can’t have him. So I toss a cushion at his head and pretend none of this means anything. I lean over to grab the clipboard from the coffee table, shifting just enough to pretend I don’t notice Johnny walking around the room, until he finally tugs on a pair of jeans.
“You don’t have anything until Saturday,” I say, flipping through the schedule. “So I’ll be going home tonight.”
He flops down beside me on the couch. “Really? That’s like… two whole days.”
“Yeah,” I say, keeping my eyes on the clipboard. “Which means you need to be on your best behavior for two days. Think you can handle that?”
He hums, low and untrustworthy. “I can try.”
I slap his shoulder, harder than I mean to. “Try?”
“Ow!” he grins, rubbing the spot like I broke a bone. “Okay, okay, I’ll behave. Cross my heart.”
He’s giving me the world’s least convincing innocent face. I roll my eyes.
“So,” he says, nudging me, “what’re you gonna do? On your days off.”
“I don’t know,” I shrug. “Probably go shopping. I still need something for Saturday’s event..”
His brow scrunches, confusion painting his face. “Event?”
I close my eyes and exhale. “Yes. That’s what we have to do on Saturday. Jeez, do you even look at your schedule?”
He grins, completely unapologetic, and slaps a hand on my thigh. “Nope. That’s what I have you for.”
His hand lingers. Warm, and heavy, and real. I stiffen, heart thudding once in protest before speeding up in betrayal. But I don’t move. I can’t.
“Well…” I say, trying not to stumble over the words. “We have a party to go to. Hector wants you there and mingling. It’s going to be packed, producers, agents, the studio’s new execs. Everyone. They’ll even have the wardrobe department there.”
“Wardrobe?” he says with mock fear. “So not just pretty faces and expensive cologne, actual people I’ve annoyed.”
“Exactly,” I say, still very aware of his hand on my leg. “You need to do some major damage control.”
“So I have to play nice and kiss everyone’s ass,” he says, tapping my thigh lightly with his fingers like a drumbeat.
“Yes. But don’t look at it that way.”
“So you’re going clothes shopping?” he asks, too casually.
