Page 60 of Beautiful Collide

“Say what?” My smirk deepens.

“Whatever sarcastic, infuriating thing you’re thinking right now.”

I lean against the side of the building. “You know, for someone who hates my guts, you just defended me like a pro in there.”

Her eyes narrow. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” I say, unable to help the laugh that escapes me. “Seriously, though . . . thanks. That was unexpected.”

She crosses her arms, her gaze softening slightly. “You’re welcome. Someone had to step in, and clearly, your agent isn’t showing up for you.”

“Yeah, he’s a good guy, but well, he’s got bigger fish to fry,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair.

She raises an eyebrow. “That doesn’t mean you deserve to be treated like that.”

“A part of it’s my own fault. I don’t give him much to work with.”

“That’s not true. You do. You deserve better than this, Hudson. You’re a damn good player. Remember that.”

I tilt my head, studying her. “You know, Hex, you’re kind of amazing when you’re not plotting my downfall.”

“Don’t push it,” she says, but there’s a faint smile tugging at her lips.

I can’t help it, I grin back at her. For the first time in a long time, I feel like someone’s in my corner.

And damn if it doesn’t make me like her even more.

I can’t help grinning like an idiot. Molly freaking Sinclair just walked into a roomful of sleazy marketing execs and turned the whole thing upside down.For me.

And now we’re standing outside the building, her arms crossed and her scowl firmly in place, but I know I saw it—that little smile she tried to hide back there.

“Come on, Hex,” I say. “Admit it. You like me.”

Her eyes narrow, and she takes a deliberate step back like she wants to get as far away from this conversation as humanly possible. “I just defended you because I didn’t want to sit through another second of that train wreck. Don’t get it twisted.”

“Defended me like a damn hero.” My grin widens. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were starting to like having me around.”

“Wrong.” She rolls her eyes.

“Oh, come on.” I step away from the wall, prowling closer to her. “You were incredible in there, and you know it. If I didn’t already think you were hot, that whole taking-no-bullshit act might’ve done it for me.”

She blinks at me, her face going blank for half a second before she recovers with a disgusted look that’s almost theatrical. “Ew,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “You’re gross.”

“Am I?” I tease, tilting my head.

“Yes,” she says firmly. “And don’t you forget it.”

I take another step closer, grinning down at her. “You’re standing awfully close for someone who finds me so gross.”

“You’re the one moving. Not me.” Her eyes flash, and she steps back to prove her point, holding up a hand to stopme. “Just because I defended you in there doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what an insufferable, cocky, perpetually late pain in my ass you are.”

“Don’t forget charming,” I add, smirking.

“Gross,” she repeats, spinning on her heel and heading toward the parking lot.

I follow, unable to wipe the grin off my face. “You know, most people would say thank you after a compliment.”

“Most people don’t get their compliments from walking red flags,” she shoots back over her shoulder.

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