Page 92 of Victorious: Part I

“Maybe. Or more like construction.” He shrugs. “What about you? If you weren’t tied to the club, what would you do?”

The question catches me off guard. No one’s ever really asked me that before, always assume I know exactly what I want.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I love all this…” I gesture to my camera, “But I’m not sure if it’s what I want to do forever. I just know I want to create things. Tell stories.”

“You’re really fucking good at it. I can see you behind the camera in Hollywood. Your name rolling on the end credits of blockbuster movies.”

My cheeks warm at the compliment. “Shit! You really think I could do that?”

His eyes meet mine, a genuine smile crossing his face. “Yeah, Clover. You can do any fucking thing you put your mind to.”

I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s the adrenaline high from us being on the road and having to leave home with the thought we may not have a home to return to. Or maybe it’s the way those luminous blue eyes are staring into mine. Or maybe it’s actually the idea that there is life beyond the club that has my stomach churning in knots right now.

I’m not sure what the answer is, so instead, I say nothing at all and turn to look out at the beautiful landscape. He follows my lead, and we stand there a little longer, watching the sun begin its slow descent toward the western horizon. There’s a strange peace here among the ghosts of Calico.

It’s as if time has slowed down just for us.

“We should get going,” Phoenix says eventually. “Still have a lot of ground to cover today.”

As we walk back to the truck, I find myself studying him when he’s not looking. The way he moves, confident but always alert. The line of his jaw, the intensity of his bright blue eyes. The tattoo that peeks out from under the collar of his shirt. The way his tight tank top clings to his body shows his clearly defined abs beneath. The way the summer sun hits his tanned skin and the slight sheen makes him look like some kind of walking calendar model.

Jesus Christ, he’s so fucking hot.

I bet he’d be amazing in bed!

The thought catches me off guard, and as he spins to look at me, I feel seen.

Like he knowsexactlywhat I’m thinking.

Panic washes over me suddenly, my knees giving way beneath me as I almost stumble on the uneven ground.

Phoenix reaches out, grabbing me instantly, his hand warm on my arm. “Fuck, you okay? Did you have too much sugar at the diner?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” I say too quickly, pulling away. “I just tripped. Clumsy old Clover at your service.”

He gives me an odd look but doesn’t press the issue. “All right, let’s get going.”

Grinning, I give a wide smile. “Okey dokey,” I chime like an idiot.

He furrows his brows, like he has no clue what the fuck is wrong with me right now, but turns for the driver’s side and moves to get in. When he is out of my line of sight, I clench my eyes shut, internally berating myself.

You fucking idiot!

“Clover?”

My eyes snap open in response. “Yep, coming!” I answer, then open the door and slide in.

Back in the truck, I busy myself with my camera, reviewing footage, and doing anything to avoid thinking about what I just admitted to myself. Phoenix starts the engine, and we leave Calico behind, the ghost town disappearing in the side mirror like a mirage.

I can’t be sexually attracted to Phoenix.

It’sexactlythe kind of complication we don’t need right now, with everything else going on. Besides, Maverick would absolutely lose his mind if he knew. And Phoenix is Sadie’s brother, which makes this all kinds of weird.

But as we drive toward our next destination, I can’t help stealing glances at him and the fluttering in my stomach when he catches me looking.

This road trip just got a whole lot more complicated.

Chapter Twenty-Two

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