Page 114 of A Lucky Shot

“Word is union might strike and we need to wrap before they go out for who knows how long.”

How was that not an emergency? It was the day after Christmas. Last time he checked, that was a stat holiday. That meant union wages would be astronomical. If they could get everyone back on set.

Shit. Josh raked his free hand through his hair. They’d never cross picket lines. That meant they had to hustle even more than usual to finish principal photography. No delays. No mistakes.

No distractions.

A chill crept over his bare shoulders as he stared at the open bedroom door. “On it.”

Stephen continued rapid fire, “Terry has it under control and is working all the coordination. Brynne and Dawson are already on their way back. We’ll be ready for prep tonight.”

Anxiety needled his chest as Stephen rattled off the remaining instructions. Cass shuffled out of the bedroom with the duvet wrapped around her body and her phone in her hand, holding up the screen and giving a chagrined smile.

Cass yawned widely and rubbed the heel of her palm against her cheekbone. “Want to drive in together?” she asked, gliding over to the counter.

His chest hollowed at the sight of her messy curls and sleepy eyes. They should have had days together before the frenzy of filming picked back up. Space to breathe before the mad rush to the end.

He wanted to bury himself in her. To put his mouth on her smile and steal her breath, the soft sighs she made when he ground his hips against her. To hide with her, here, to order takeout and not leave her apartment until the new year.

He thought they’d have more time.

As soon as filming wrapped, he’d be going home. And she’d be here. Looking heartbreakingly beautiful and over a thousand kilometers away from him.

Josh stared at the fifty-eight second call log, grinding his teeth together as the screen faded to black. Less than a minute to change everything. She wasn’t due on set until the afternoon. Technically neither was he, but the longer he stayed with her today, the harder it would be to pull away.

“No. I’ll go in alone.”

“Okay, do you want me to drive you to your place?”

“I’ll order an Uber.”

The last of her sleep faded from her eyes. “Oh.” Cass said in a voice just a breath above a whisper. “Right.”

His things were scooped up in minutes. He spent extra time brushing his teeth to stretch out the time before his ride arrived. His dentist would be so pleased. With his pyjamas, slippers, and toiletries shoved in his bag, he hoisted it over his shoulder as he watched the avatar on the Uber tick closer.

The coffee pot gurgled the last sputters into the carafe, and Cass dithered, slightly blocking the front door. “You have time for a cup,” she offered.

It wasn’t about the ride or coffee. It was written all over her face. Lips parted, eyes wide as she wavered back and forth on her feet. Closer, farther.

He wanted to meet her forwards lean and catch her mouth. To push the duvet from her shoulders and take her on the floor. Now. Put his tongue on her breasts and his hand between her thighs, then drive his cock into her until she choked out his name.

Then curl up with her on her couch. Listen to her recite her favourite fan theories. Leaf through the sketchbook she’d left open on the coffee table. Go to sleep with her and wake up beside her every morning.

There wasn’t enough time for any of it.

He tightened his hand on his bag. “I’ll grab a coffee on the way. I’m going to wait downstairs.”

“Of course.” Her voice was sweet as toffee and just as brittle, curls bobbing around her cheeks as she busied herself with her own cup, sloshing creamer onto the counter.

He should go. Walk out that front door now and wait downstairs. Not turn back. He reached for the handle, but his body wouldn’t let him go through.

Fuck it.

He grabbed her chin and forced her lips to his. Her mouth opened, and a hush of air escaped that he claimed as his own. He crushed her to his torso, hard, her hands sliding up the back of his shirt as she submitted to his attack. Hard, needy.

She was a drug, his drug, intoxicating, consuming, a craving he couldn’t sate. A shot straight into his veins. A guttural noise broke from his throat, and he bit her lip, pinning her to the wall as his heart threatened to beat right out of his chest.

Don’t tell her you love her right before you leave her, asshole.

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