Page 41 of Enemies Off Camera
Push him away?
No. I don’t want that.
Kiss him?
God, no. I shouldn’t want that.
The space between my thighs throbs. Reaches. Do I wantthat?
No.
No way.
Then slowly—his sexy mouth moves closer to my left ear.
“I won’t be home when you arrive,” he murmurs. “I have recovery today. But look around. Make yourself comfortable.”
A pause.
“And be nice to me, Zara. I’ve earned it. Don’t you think?”
Oh shit.
His nearness is driving me insane. And I know this isn’t about him personally—I don’tlikeJaxon. I hate him. It’s just that... it’s been too long. He’s a walking aphrodisiac. When this is over, I need to start dating again. For real.
“Is that a yes?” he asks, lips still at my ear.
He’s not going to move until I say something. I can feel it.
“Um-hmm,” I manage.
“Good.”
Finally, I’m released from the prison of his nearness.
I stare at his back as he presses the start button. The doors slide open immediately.
And I’m still speechless as Jaxon strolls out of the elevator like he doesn’t just own the world?—
He owns me too.
THIRTY-ONE
Six Hours Later
What a day. I met Kat, who’s smart, efficient, and fully capable. It’s been less than a full day since she came into my life, and already she’s making things easier. That alone terrifies me. I don’t want to get used to it. I don’t want to run her off. Or worse—what if she leaves on her own?
Assistants in this industry rarely stay in one place for long. And then there’s me. Everyone who enters my life eventually leaves it—gone for good. That’s true for my family—well, my father’s side, which is the only family I have left. It’s true for every friend I’ve picked up along the way. Nobody stuck around after my shoplifting incident. The only friend I have left is Anne. And sometimes, I wonder if I weren’t her client, would she have ghosted me too?
My mind has been spinning with these kinds of thoughts ever since I got into the back of this black hired car with tinted windows, its trunk packed with all my essentials. I brought my laptop and my extra-large monitor. My tea kettle. My warm socks. My baggy sweats—one for every day of the week.
According to my new schedule, Jaxon’s next game is Thursday night. Since he’s on the road traveling to an away game on Saturday, I’ll be able to go back home that morning. I can hardly wait.
I also plan to bepreparedfor game night in more ways than one. I’ll wear something vaguely in the WAG category—without fully crossing into WAGville. I can look stylish without trying to give Jaxon a hard-on all the way up in our private little section. I packed enough outfits to test a few and see what works. No heels, though. I’m not wearing high heels to a football game. That’s where I draw the line.
“Miss?”
The driver’s voice pulls me out of my anxious thoughts.
