Page 60 of Bottle Shock
“Yeah.”
He leans back, elbows resting on his knees again. “I can’t believe you deal with all of this by yourself.”
“I don’t have a choice.” I straighten my shoulders. “It is what it is. I’m used to it. It’s fine.”
“It’s not.”
He stands then, crosses to the kitchenette, and grabs a paper towel, dampening it under the faucet. When he comes back, he crouches in front of me, holding it out.
“Your eyes are red,” he murmurs.
I take the cold, damp paper towel, unsure what to do with it. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
His mouth tilts, a hint of a smile reaching his eyes. “Here.” He takes it back from me, our hands skimming. “The cold helps.”
Before I can ask what he means, he reaches up, his thumb tracing beneath my eye as if he could smooth away the sting himself. The touch is so careful it steals the breath right out of me.
“Better,” he whispers.
I nod, but the word that comes to mind isn’tbetter. It’sworse. Worse, because I can feel every place our skin meets. Worse, because he’s still crouched in front of me and I can smell his cologne—clean and rugged, like a sexy forrest. Worse, because for one dizzy second, I want to lean in.
His gaze briefly settles on my mouth before returning to my eyes, and that small, traitorous movement sends a spark through me I have no business feeling.
The silence is so drawn out it feels alive between us,stretching thinner by the second. If I don’t break it, I might break with it.
I clear my throat, the sound too loud in the small space. “You really don’t have to worry about me,” I say, though my voice betrays me halfway through. “I’ll figure it out.”
He tilts his head, still watching me. “You said that already.”
“Because it’s true.”
“Or because you need it to be?”
I blink, stunned by how easily he sees through me.
He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re too good at pretending you’re okay.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’m an actress.” I manage a small smile. “Faking it is kind of the job description.”
He doesn’t smile back. “You shouldn’t have to fake being okay.”
We sit there quietly for a minute.
Finally, he’s the one to speak. “You said the new job starts in October?”
I nod. “October.”
“And until then?”
“I’ll find a way.”
He exhales through his nose, pacing a few steps before turning back to me. “Thereisa way.”
I tilt my head, staring at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
