Page 4 of The Last Kind of Kiss
I may have been the idiot who broke things off, but that doesn’t mean it was a sound decision. That spark is still there,flickering away, refusing to be snuffed out. And the second I laid my eyes on her again, it was a lit matchstick to a puddle of highly combustible gasoline, producing a flame large enough to color the sky if it was given the chance to spread.
“I’m here for the same reason you are,” I counter, though with half the vitriol.
Fuck, I forgot how blue her eyes were. A rip current I can’t help but swim toward—that I can’t help but drown in.
“You don’t even model! You seriously expect me to believe that you didn’t know I’d be here? Kitty’s Catwalk is theonlymodeling agency in Riverside.”
My heart thunders like a stampede in my chest. “No, Lils, I didn’t know you’d be at thisexactcasting call. The agency didn’t tell me anything about my potential costar. If I had known you’d be here, I obviouslywouldn’tbe here.”
She snorts in disbelief. “Well, I am here, so you can walk out the door any time. You’re good at that, aren’t you? Leaving after you’ve committed to something.”
I flinch and step backward. Guilt twists a knife through my guts, dredging up a sick-tasting nausea. I can’t believe she thinks so little of me. I mean, Icanbelieve it, but fuck does it hurt a lot more than I thought it would.
I quickly school my expression, choosing to approach the situation with charisma instead of caution. Which may or may not come back to bite me in the ass.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yes, you are. You’re going to turn down this job, give it to someonemuchmore attractive, and be on your merry way so I never have to look at your stupid face again.”
“I think we both know that I’mmorethan qualified for this job.”
“Did your Neanderthal brain forget that modeling is aboutmore than just looks? It’s about star quality, stage presence,chemistry.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing chemistry’s never been a problem for us.” I slowly feeling the guilt begin to ebb, now wrestling with the inextinguishable desire that’s sprouted in its place.
“Please, I’d have more chemistry with a stale loaf of bread,” she spits, the blue of her eyes fully transformed into a dark grey sea, raging with relentless waves intent on crashing straight into me.
I know I messed up. I take full responsibility for my actions. And now, fate’s given me a second chance to make things right, and passing this up would be an even stupider decision than ghosting her in the first place.
There’s no way in hell I’ll subject myself to living the rest of my life on her shit list, but it’s not a problem of clearing my conscience. It’s a problem of still having…feelings…for her. Or maybe it’s a problem of foolishly believing that things can go back to the way they were between us. Ugh, I don’t know! I don’t know what thesefeelingsentail. Not love, exactly. Love is a strong word—a word I’ve only used for a girl once, and all it got me was a front row seat at her funeral.
For the first time during her tirade, her voice cracks under the weight of…unbridled wrath? Obvious disillusionment? A lie she knows damn well is a figment of her imagination? “If you think I’m going anywhere near your underperforming body, then you’re crazier than I thought.”
Underperforming?Yeah, no. And the five orgasms I gave her in one night can attest to that.
It’s my turn to snicker. “If you’re going to argue with me, at least be truthful. There’s nothing underperforming about me. Unless you want me to jog your memory right here, and we can ask the board to be the judge of that.”
Lila gasps like a woman scorned, yet I can’t ignore the way she fails to conceal the blush washing over her collarbones and creeping up the length of her neck. “The moment I voluntarily kiss you will be the moment I see the black, charred gates of hell.”
I bid a fleeting glance toward the row of executives watching as she talks “animatedly” to me, and I pray they’re too self-involved to be listening in on the very inappropriate conversation transpiring between us.
I open my mouth in rebuttal, but she shoots me down, still equipped with enough insults to continuously rip me a new one.
“If you want to talk about underperforming, let’s talk about your IQ. Oh, I know! How about your lack of consideration for other human beings? And let’s certainly not forget about the time you blew after two min?—”
That only happened one time, okay? It’s not my fault she has the hands of a wizard or a very talented seamstress. I’ve unleashed a goddamn beast, and it seems like I’m the only person still upholding any sort of professionalism.
Thankfully, before she can get any further, one of the directors clears their throat rather loudly. Awkward silence befalls the now-quiet studio, and I rake my hand through the front of my hair, desperately searching for something to say to make up for the rather livid show we just put on.
“Excuse me forinterrupting, Ms. Perkins, but there isn’t a problem here, is there?” a snooty-looking man asks, popping one bushy eyebrow up and glowering at her from behind a crooked bird nose.
Lila quickly composes herself, brushes invisible dust motes off her dress, and flicks her hair behind her. If I was any closer to her, she would’ve hit me in the face.
“No, I’m sorry. I was just telling my potentialcostarhere howexcited I am to work with him,” she lies, refusing to even look my way to corroborate her statement.
Snooty Man scoffs. “It sounded like you were a little more than excited.”
Embarrassment paints Lila’s cheeks pink, and her glossed lips pop open to apologize, but I step forward before she has to explain herself. She doesn’t. Especially not to this asswipe.
