Page 73 of Steamy on Set

“Have I told you today that you look beautiful?”

“No.” I smile from ear to ear.

“Well,” he says, pressing his forehead to mine. “Don’t hold your breath.”

The laugh erupts from my chest, filling the air with its boisterous sound. I push him away from me, then cross my arms. He is laughing too, hand gripping his stomach as he pulls back.

“You’re such an asshole.” I push past him, moving to gather my things,

“Would you have me any other way?”

I wouldn’t, so I shake my head as I get dressed. He pulls me close again once I have clothes on, and holds me in his arms.

“You are more than beautiful. You are the sun, and I am just lucky to bask in your radiance.” He kisses me once more on the cheek.

I kiss him back, before pushing him away and heading towards my bags.

“So I figured out the scene with Dante and his father. I was trying to relay too much information in this one conversation. People aren’t good at expressing every perfect point in the heat of the moment. I had to refocus it,” Errol says.

I can attest to that, having had enough arguments over these past few months to know that angry conversations can be easily stilted and derailed as someone tries to work through their emotions. This makes me think about Mira and our final conversation. No matter how much I was trying to get to a point of resolution, it got lost in our feelings for one another.

I sigh, and he grabs my hand.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just happy that you figured it out. I’ll meet you at your place, okay?”

He pulls me close and kisses my forehead. With a wave, he leaves, giving me a minute to think about how far we have come. If someone asked me a few months ago if I would have ever seen myself with Errol, I would have fought them for the suggestion alone.

Now my body craves him like the very air I need to breathe, and I can’t imagine it any other way.

Driving over to his house, I try to pin down all the things I feel about him. Only one word comes to mind.Love. Is it possible? Do I love him? After the disaster that was my last attempt at forever, is it even a good idea to love someone right now, or ever? Can I trust him with my heart?

I have given him my mind and body. Is it really a big ask to give this last piece? I try to answer all these questions, but the short drive doesn’t give me enough time. Maybe seeing him will be the final answer I need, like it was when it came down to whether or not to be with him.

Having stopped at home to change first, I know conversation won’t be the first thing on our docket for the evening. Knocking once, I wait for him to answer the door, dressed in nothing but a trench coat and nude heels. When he does, I drop the tie, letting him see my full naked body under the moonlight. Without pause, he steps out onto the porch and pushes me up against the wall.

The cold air tickles my nipples, making them stand at attention. His hands roaming my body pull me towards him. I am pressed tight between the wall and his hard frame. The feel of it is just as exciting as the fact that we are outside. It heightens the experience, as he takes me right there under the stars. I’m so engrossed in the feel of him, I barely notice when we move to the stiff wood of the porch. That is until we stop.

Shifting my head on his chest, I curl into him more trying to find a comfortable spot.

“Are you okay?” He adjusts so that I’m mostly on top of him.

“We should get up and go inside. This hurts,” I say.

“Can’t believe you wore your heels the whole time.” He strokes my leg, his fingers coming down to my ankle.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised. I will be wearing heels while giving birth. There is never a moment where they aren’t appropriate.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, lifting me off of him. Standing, we grab our discarded items and beeline for the door.

“You’re right. I should have expected it.” He helps me take them off, and the look that once was annoyance is now admiration.

“I need some clothes,” I say, leaving him kneeling in the entryway. I make my way into his bedroom. Invading his space, I dig through all his drawers in search of pajamas. Finding them, I get dressed before meeting him in the kitchen.

“I ordered us food, but it’s probably cold now.” He points to the island. I take in the pizza boxes and am happy it’s something that can be eaten without reheating. With a slice in hand, I slide onto the counter facing him. Watching him eat, the thoughts from the drive come back. Looking at his sculpted face, wide nose and full lips, I try to think if I have ever seen someone more beautiful. Maybe it is just the way his personality is so clear in every shape that makes him up.

From the laugh lines that define his eyes, to the dimples that mark his smile, who he is was evident in every part of his body. And I like that person. I like the man who challenges me, makes me laugh, and treats me as his equal. Someone who learned the hard way what it means to trust, and spent a lifetime trying to prove himself worthy of it. I don’t know why I ever questioned trusting him with my heart.

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