Page 59 of The Boss I Can't Stand
“I should have known better,” I told her. “The signs were all there. Layla called less and less, and every time Ididget a hold of her, she had less to say.”
“Then she should have broken up with you instead of lying and cheating.”
True enough. The end of the relationship would have hurt either way, but the lying had just made it sting all the more, making me realize what a fool I’d been to open myself up to that kind of pain.
“It’s all in the past now,” I said. “I guess I just meant to tell you that living together is all well and good until you have to put their crap in boxes and ship it to the other side of the country.”
“That’s fair,” Sierra said thoughtfully. “I suppose I should count myself lucky that I never had to do that with Trey. He pulled the plugbefore he started keeping anything more than a toothbrush and some hair gel at my place.”
I couldn’t help thinking about all the stuff Sierra already had at my place. About having to put all that in boxes when this was all over. Did I want that?
She yawned in the darkness, squeezing my hand once more before releasing it. “Goodnight, Finn.”
“Night,” I said. But as I closed my eyes, trying to find sleep, I couldn’t stop thinking of how close she was, how easy it would be to reach out and touch…feel her soft skin, the warmth of her body, those tempting curves. I imagined us pressed together, hearing desperate sounds spill from her lips as I unraveled her.
But I didn’t just want sex with her. I wanted…I wanted to hold her hand. I wanted to make her laugh. I wanted to be the person she trusted with her secrets, with her fears, with her future.
And that was scary as hell.
Serious relationships like the kind I’d had with Layla…that was something I just didn’t do anymore. I’d had enough firsthand experience to know how that would end. All I had to do was look at my mother post my dad ditching or Connor’s hellish divorce to know wanting a deep and real relationship with Sierra would be a recipe for disaster.
I’d learned better than to risk my heart like that.
21
SIERRA
Ididn’t know how in the hell I was supposed to sleep with Finn lying there next to me. Even if I ignored the caffeine zipping through my veins, my skin was on fire. And the only thing that would put out the flames was an arm’s length away.
All I had to do was reach out again and touch him. My heart pounded, heat thrumming in my veins, blood rushing by my ears. For a moment there, it really felt like something more might happen. That Finn might just roll over in the dark and drag me into his arms the way I’d been imagining for far too many nights now.
Butnope.
He was either being a gentleman or this desire I felt—this attraction—was completely one-sided. And yet I remembered that day in his sculpture studio so clearly.
I remembered the intensity of that kiss. I remembered the way he’d held me. The way he’d cradled my face.
I remembered the way his tongue had slipped between my lips,deepening the kiss into something…more. That wasn’t the way you kissed your fake fiancée. That wasn’t the way you rehearsed for a date.
I might not be the world’s greatest actor, but I knew that much.
I wanted to scream. No, first I wanted to roll over and straddle Finn and demand to know if his heart was attempting to punch through his chest like mine was. AndthenI wanted to scream. Because even if it was…even if he felt the way I did…we couldn’t actually do this. There was too much at stake. If it all went horribly wrong, it could put everything in jeopardy—the movie, my job, Ro’s directorial debut!
I couldn’t risk it.
And anyway, I was probably being silly still thinking there was something more to that kiss we’d shared. That Finn wanted more withme.This man wanted one thing:Every Day Is Sundayas Best Picture winner. To think that Finn Lockhart, perfection personified, would muddy the waters between us and risk his Oscar winner was pure foolishness.
I needed to stop reading into every touch, every glance. And I definitely needed that throbbing pulse between my legs to get the memo. Finn and I were never going to happen. So I needed to stopwantinghim.
Buzzzzz! Buzzzzz! Buzzzzz!
I bolted upright like I’d been shocked to attention, the sound of Finn’s phone breaking me out of my spiral. And thank the Lord for that! I needed a distraction from this only-one-bed nightmare. The jolt of adrenaline felt a lot like relief as I turned my thoughts back to what really mattered here: the arrival of the fabric.
“Is that about the delivery?” I croaked in the dark. The light flicked on, and I squinted at him. God, what a sight it was to stare down at sleep-mussed Finn, his pants low on his hips, his shirt riding up justenough to reveal swaths of the muscle I’d glimpsed that day in the costume warehouse.
“Hello?” Finn said, answering the call. He nodded and hummed. “Security has already been authorized to let you through. Get the package to the costume shop ASAP. We’ll be right there.”
He hung up, glancing at me, the shadow of stubble on his face making him even more handsome than usual. “Fabric is here. Guess that’s our cue.”
