Page 87 of Beyond the Bright Lights

“I’m serious. This is progress. Good progress.”

I scrunch up my nose at her. “Then why do I have a sick feeling that it’s all going to backfire?”

“Because love is a messy bitch.”

I cough out another laugh and shake my head, returning to the paperwork I’ve been neglecting. I check the time on my phone. One in the morning.

“It’s late. I’ll finish up here. You go home.”

Ginger’s phone chirps at that moment, and she extracts it from her cleavage. She smiles at her phone, blushing.

“Good, because my ride is here.”

She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

Before I can question who, though I should have known, Mylan and Bruno walk through the door. A door that should have been locked since we closed an hour ago. Ginger obviously knew these two were going to show up and left it unlocked.

“Hey babe!” Ginger squeals and nearly jumps into Bruno’s arms. The two start making out in front of the door.

Ginger plans to visit Bruno on her days off. She hasn’t admitted it to me yet, despite me asking, but I think she’s falling for Bruno too. And by the massive grin on his face right now as she whispers likely naughty things in his ear, I’d say he feels the same way. However, I’m not sure if their love story will continue once filming is done because Ginger has her mother to care for. She could never leave Silo.

Mylan turns to me and opens his arms wide.

“I am not jumping into your arms,” I muse.

He shrugs a shoulder and leaves his bodyguard and my best friend to their make out session. By the time Mylan leans onto the counter, picture perfect, looking like a model in one of those fashion magazines, Bruno and Ginger are stumbling out the front door of the bar. Ginger giggles as she locks up from outside then yelps, and I'm guessing Bruno is being very inappropriate with her.

I look away from the door and find a sea of blue staring back at me.

“Hi,” Mylan says.

I blush and look down like I don’t see his handsome face all the time. “I, uh, have to finish these receipts for the night, and I'll be ready to leave.”

“Take your time.” He smiles and rests his chin in his palm.

I try to concentrate on my work, but he’s making it hard to do. Not once in the past five minutes has Mylan taken his eyes off me.

I slam my pencil down. “Are you going to stare at me the whole time?”

“I like to see you squirm.”

My mind rewinds to the first time I was in his trailer—when he promised to punish me. He’s yet to follow through on it. I brought it up once, and he said he wanted my punishment to be special, and we can’t do that with long filming days and early call times. But now he’s done filming here in Silo and filming at the college doesn’t start for a few more days . . .

“I wanted to talk to you about Jonesboro.” I don’t look up from tallying the credit card slips.

Despite my lowered gaze, I still see Mylan lift his head and straighten his back. “I’m listening.”

“I’m still going . . .”

“But?”

“But not the entire time.”

“Donut—”

“I’ll be there two days out of the week.”

He stews over my confession with his mouth clamped shut, grinding his teeth before responding.

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