Page 37 of The Publicity Stunt
“Parker!” Markus’s voice booms through his microphone. “We’re gonna shoot your scene next!”
Parker nods and I see an unfamiliar glint in his eyes, reminding me how much I’ve missed.
“I need to go,” he turns to face me.
“Yeah, of course. I’ll—”
“See me around?” he finishes and before I can respond to that obvious dig, he runs a hand through his messy waves and backs away toward the rehearsal area.
See? Limbo.
Fifteen minutes later, Hayden Parker is standing on top of a fifty-foot-high crane, wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants. Oh, Lord.
“Rolling!” Marcus yells.
Wait, is he going to—
“Aaand … action!”
—jump?
Before I have a chance to stuff my heart back down my throat, Parker leaps off the edge and free-falls into a pool of water.
I’m pretty sure I squeal.
Water drips down his lean torso as he stands, the drops trickling to the waistband of his pants.
My mouth goes dry.
I make a great effort to not stare at his chiseled abs and toned body baking in the sun. But it’s in vain. Hayden Parker is a freaking sight to behold.
Bringing his hand up, he sweeps his wet curls aside.
“Let’s go again!” Markus yells.
Shaking some of the water out of his hair, Parker jogs back to the metal ladder, and makes his way up. My insides vibrate with excitement. Yes, again.
“Rolling!”
The cameras point upward and Parker’s eyes momentarily flick to mine.
Without thinking, I throw him a smile. Markus calls for action and Parker jumps off the ledge, and in the process scrapes his bicep against one of the metal rods.
Blood. His arm is bleeding.
Fuck.
Grimacing, he glances up at Markus, his fingers clutching the wound. Markus picks up his microphone. “A twenty, everyone! Take a quick twenty!”
Parker starts walking toward his trailer and I instantly follow, my muscles tightening with concern.
Catching up, I open the creaky tin door for him. “I got it.”
His eyes widen a smidge, followed by a frown. “What are you doing?”
It’s not obvious? “Where’s your first-aid kit?” I barge into his trailer.
“April.”
