Total pages in book: 244
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
“Yeah?” he asks, with hope in his voice.
“I wasn’t sure how it would be to see you,” I say, but that’s only the start of it. “I didn’t know if we’d still vibe, so I . . .” But am I ready to tell him how I felt walking into that bar? Not good enough? No, I don’t think I’ll say that. “So I tried to be cool too.”
With a smile, he shifts closer, runs his fingers through my hair. “Jude Fox,” he says, like he has a secret. “I saw you before you came into the hotel last night.”
I blink. “What do you mean? Where?”
He points to the window of his room, gesturing to the ocean beyond. “Outside the hotel. The lobby bar has a view through the glass wall by the lobby. I swear I saw you practicing lines.”
It’s my turn to groan. I’ve been completely busted now.
TJ moves in a flash, pinning me, his hands on my wrists. “Was I right? Were you putting on your big-time actor charm for me? Like you do when you think people are watching?”
“Do you think pinning me down is some kind of torture? I quite like this position.”
He laughs, rocks his pelvis to mine. “Were you trying to charm me?”
I let out a soft moan as he presses harder. “Is that what I do? Charm you?”
He rolls off me, running a hand down my chest as he goes. “Yes. Do you have any idea how you come across? How captivating you are? When you smile at me, it’s like the world disappears and I’m caught in your spotlight.”
My body likes the sound of that, every inch of my skin warming up. My heart likes it too since it thumps harder. But still, I doubt him. Because I doubt me. “That sounds like a line.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Trust me, that doesn’t come from any of my books. It’s just true. I’ve always felt that way around you. You have charisma, Jude. You have so much of it. It’s like an overflow. You’re the sun. You’re the center of the world. You warm anyone who comes near you. And last night, you wanted to do that to me.”
“Maybe I’m not such a good actor. Because I did want that,” I admit, half wishing I wasn’t so easy to read, but half glad he saw through my charade.
He pokes my chest with his finger. “You’re a great actor, and I can’t wait to see Pillow Talk tonight. But I figured out what you were doing because it’s my job to read people. To understand their motivations. To look beneath the surface. And I’m pretty sure you wanted to charm me,” he says, reading me like an open book. Then he spreads his hand across my pecs, stretching his fingers over my skin and gliding down my chest, over my abs. “But don’t you know? You already did.”
My pulse surges, and I go for it. Jumping. “Maybe I wanted to keep charming you last night.”
TJ locks eyes with me. Holds my gaze. Then he asks, in measured words, “Do you? Do you want to keep charming me?”
There he goes again. Speaking in subtext. I know what he’s asking, and I was worried yesterday because I didn’t know if he’d feel the same way, or want with the same passion I do. Now, after a night with him, I know one truth—the years didn’t erase this thing between us. “I do want to,” I say, and it’s as much of an admission as I’ll make.
It’s not a commitment. It’s an acknowledgment of the here and now.
His lips twitch in a grin. A devilishly satisfied one. “Then let’s do London again. This weekend.”
“London in Los Angeles?” I ask with a laugh.
“Let’s be who we were. No bullshit. No trying to impress each other.” He holds my gaze, asking with his eyes for me to be honest too.
“I hope you know, way back when, I was trying to impress you in London,” I admit. “I totally wanted to get in your pants.”
He laughs. “Dude, it drove me crazy every day how much I wanted you. But you know what I mean. Let’s be ourselves. Like how we were when we went thrifting, when we went out for beer, when we went shopping for the shower curtain.”
I fling a hand to my head dramatically. “The awful day I learned you hate rubber ducks,” I say.
He grabs my waist, hauls me close. “Some things change over the years. Maybe I don’t hate them anymore.”
I arch a brow. “Do you have a rubber duck fetish now?”
TJ dips his face near mine, then drops away from my lips, dusting a kiss to my jaw. “I might.” His lips travel along my chin. Then under it. Then along my neck. “I have to tell you something.”