Page 82 of The Small-Town Seduction Plan

“Wait…” I try to stop her. “How long will you be in LA? Once we finish up this job, I can come out?—”

“No!” Avery cuts me off sharply. “Look, I don’t know. There’s a lot I need to handle, and then I’ll be in pre-production and training, for the movie.” She doesn’t meet my eyes, already shoving her suitcase into the backseat. “I’ll call you in the morning,” she says, and then climbs in, slamming the door behind her.

And I’m left standing there like a chump on the street corner, watching the woman of my dreams drive away.

21

AVERY

Somewhere over Colorado, it sinks in: I’ve made a terrible mistake.

Anger and hurt propelled me through the security lines at the airport, and onto a last-minute late-night flight to LA, but now the lights are dimmed and everyone’s sleeping, and there’s nothing but a menu of old, crappy movies to distract me from the hollow ache in my chest.

I want Duke.

I want his arms around me, and that low drawl telling me that everything’s going to be OK. I want his massive frame crowding up the seat beside me, and his chest to rest my head against, while he strokes my hair and makes me feel like, for the first time in my life, I’m not doing this alone.

I miss him.

Damn it.

I try to swallow back the sting of tears behind my satin eye mask. The stale airplane air is going to be bad enough for my skin as it is, I don’t need to arrive red-eyed and puffy from weeping, too.

“Where the hell does it end?”

I pull on my headphones, but still, his words echo, impossible to forget.

“How long are you going to live like this?”

They play over and over in my mind, because they’re questions I’ve wondered myself, a hundred times over. I’ve had my sights fixed on the prize so long, it was easy to dismiss them, but now, all my fears and doubts and insecurities come whirling to life again.

Can it ever be enough for me?

The fame. The money. The adoration. I thought that if I could just make it up that mountain to the glittering heights of the Hollywood A-list, I would be safe. Safe in my hilltop mansion, with a team of lawyers on speed-dial and nothing but freedom and my pick of the biggest roles around.

The kind of security I could only dream about growing up.

But I’ve been climbing for the past ten years now, and that safe haven is still just out of reach. Sure, I’m closer now than I ever have been before, but Duke was right: the tabloids can take it from me, anytime they choose. One more fake scandal whipped up to sell copies and clicks, and nobody will want to be in business with Avery Lawrence.

Not even that asshole, Brady, and his Annihilation team.

I wince. It would be easier if I could write Duke’s attitude off to jealousy, wanting to keep me all to himself, away from other men, but it’s not that. He doesn’t have an insecure bone in his body, and he wasn’t thinking about himself for a second, I could see that all over his face.

He just wants the best for me.

The tears well again, remembering that look of steady determination in his eyes as he took my hands, and vowed to give me whatever I need.

My chest aches. I gave up on hearing those words– or ever believing them– a long time ago. I thought I couldn’t rely on anyone but myself. So, when the best man I’ve ever known is standing in front of me, telling me everything my heart needs to hear, what do I do?

Yell at him, slam the cab door in his face, and run away clear across the country.

Great job, Avery.

I groan. Is it any wonder my life is a mess?

“Miss?”

I tug my eye mask down. A flight attendant is standing in the aisle, looking at me with concern. “Do you need anything?” she repeats.

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