Page 69 of Out of the Gold

“I can’t imagine you being anything except extraordinary. Were you the ringleader of the cool chicks?”

His teasing tone doesn’t register, as his words lodge in the center of my chest. “No, I didn’t belong to that clique.”

He cocks his head. “Were you involved with costume design back then?”

“Yeah. I was in the artistic crew. Sophia and I both were.”

“Well, that I can believe. I didn’t realize Sophia’s from Chicago, too.”

I smile. “Yup. She’s my oldest friend. I was so excited to find out she was in the camera crew for the movie. We haven’t had much time to hang out since graduating high school. Nothing beats being around each other every day.”

“I get it. I met Mark on the set of my first movie, so I was happy to see him cast as the villain here.”

“I could tell you were friends before filmingDoctor Manipul8.”

Chase yawns. “So, tell me a Melody story from when you were oh, say, ten.” He tweaks my nose.

“Let’s see . . .” When I was ten, his sister—who I thought was a good friend—threw my dad in my face. I know Charles was seeking a fun memory, but this one wants to come out. I do modify it, for his sake. “That was the age when I first learned the world my parents had created for me wasn’t how everyone viewed it.”

His hand lands on mine. I entwine our fingers and continue, “To make a long story short”—and avoid any references to his sister—“I found out others thought I was getting preferential treatment because my dad’s a rock star.”

He squeezes my hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Ever since, I’ve had a very hard time trusting my gut as to whether someone likes me for me, or for what my dad can do for them and their careers.”

“That’s terrible, Melody. It doesn’t matter what others say about you.” He taps my heart. “It’s what’s inside here that counts. Everyone else be damned.”

I give him a small smile. “I’m getting there. Thanks to you, Charles.”

My free hand grabs at my ever-present rubber band. “Tell me about this,” he raises our linked hands.

Inhaling, I remember when my mother first gave one to me. Helplessness, anger and frustration swell deep within. “Well, that’s back to when I was ten. After a week of coming home from school crying, my mother gave me my first rubber band.”

He nods for me to continue. “Anyway, Mom told me bullies torment others because they’re hiding something in themselves. She said I should snap it and let the hurt absorb all my anger.”

His blue eyes soften, as does his voice. “Sounds like a wise woman.”

“She is,” I reply, nodding. “Anyway, whenever I’m annoyed or mad, I pluck it as a reminder to channel my negative energy and live to fight another day.”

“Wow. I’m glad this has helped you throughout the years. Although,” he snaps it and the sting seems weaker somehow. “I seem to remember you flicking it around me.”

“You probably deserved it,” I quip.

He winks. “Then I better do my best to avoid the dreaded rubber band snap.”

“I’d say you’re doing a mighty fine job.” I give him a kiss, which ends when he yawns again.

“Please excuse me, Goldie. It’s the hour, not the company, I swear.”

I open the plastic bag with a blanket and pillow in it and cover us both up. “Why don’t you get some sleep? You’ve had a very hard day.”

He wraps his arm around my shoulders. “So have you, sweetheart.” He directs my head to his pecs and closes his eyes.

I can’t sleep, despite the fact the lights have dimmed and we’re flying over thirty thousand feet above the earth. Verifying he’s out, I whisper, “Your sister was the ringleader of the mean girls at school, Charles. She made my life a living hell growing up.”

With that confession off my chest, I close my eyes and drift off into dreamland.

My core clenches with want. My swollen nipples are strummed, causing desire to streak directly to my core. My hips roll against the air. A second zing between my legs brings my eyes wide-open.

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