Page 47 of How to Kiss a Movie Star
I grin. “Maybe I know more than a little? It’s the only thing I listen to when I’m getting in character for a role.”
She studies me for a long moment, her lip clasped between her teeth, and I resist the urge to reach out and tug her into the water just to have her close to me. “It’s what I listen to when I’m working,” she finally says, “and it’s pretty much all we listened to growing up.” She kicks the water lightly, splashing my chest.
“Are you ever coming in?”
She nods, then pushes off the deck and slides into the water. She gasps as the cold hits her skin, but then she drops all the way into the water, her head disappearing for a moment before she rises back up like some sort of ethereal water goddess, no care for what the water might do to her makeup—pretty sure she isn’t wearing any—or her hair.
I’ve been around women angling for attention, and that isn’t what Audrey is doing here. She isn’t trying to be sexy, but sheissexy. Maybe even sexier because she has no idea what she’s doing to me.
She runs her hand over her face and down her wet hair. “Do you have a favorite composer?”
I love so much that she seems to have forgotten that she came here for a purpose. We’re just talking, getting to know one another, and it really seems like she’s enjoying herself.
“I love Copland,” I say. “And Dvorak. And Eric Whitacre. He’s contemporary, though. What about you?”
“Bach, probably,” she quickly says. “Because he’s so familiar, but there’s also something about the intentionality of his work that appeals to my scientific brain.”
Once, after wrapping a particularly difficult scene inTurning Tides,Claire found me out on the beach, headphones on, listening to my favorite classical playlist. She stole my headphones, listened for a few seconds, then rolled her eyes, declared my music boring, and asked me to go skinny dipping.
“I like Bach, too,” I say, loving that Audrey and I have this in common. “I get what you’re saying about intentionality.”
Audrey holds my gaze, her head slightly tilted, then she shakes her head and sinks into the water, her palms lifting to her face. Her expression looks disbelieving, but why?
The fact that we both like classical music?
Or is it more than that? Is she feeling this too? This tension?
If she’s feeling even half the attraction that I am, she’s gotta be overwhelmed, because I’m nearly out of my mind.
Wanting her like this—it’s torture and bliss. Agony and ecstasy. But I don’t even care. Even if this goes nowhere, I’ll take the sting of that disappointment if it means even a moment of the pleasure that comes from her company.
Audrey Callahan has me hooked.
Chapter Thirteen
Flint
“Sohowarewedoing this?” Audrey asks, her expression serious. “Where do you want me?”
She’s several yards away from me in the water, her hands propped on her hips.
I can think of a lot of places I want her, but I force my mind to focus on the task at hand. “Um, right. Let me just, uh, grab my phone, and we’ll figure something out.”
I climb out of the pool and walk to the long patio table where I left my shirt and phone. I grab a towel off a stocked shelf by the door and dry my hands before picking it up.
Joni and I discussed the possibility of her being here, either to take the photos or just to offer her opinion on what she thinks will work best, but we ultimately decided Audrey would be more comfortable without an audience. Now, I’m wondering if an audience would have been helpful if only to help me behave myself. This woman is onlypretendingto be my girlfriend, and I can’t stop thinking about the way her skin felt under my palms when I helped her with her sunscreen.
I walk back to the pool, phone in hand, and use the stairs to get back in the water. My phone is waterproof enough, or so the manufacturer claims, but I’d rather avoid testing it out if I can help it. Audrey has moved to the infinity edge of the pool, her arms resting on the edge, her long dark hair trailing down her back.
Without pausing to think about it, I pull up my camera and snap a picture. I move a little closer, grabbing a few more before she turns and looks over her shoulder, an easy smile on her face.
I snap one more photo. I won’t be able to use this one, but she looks too amazing not to try and capture the moment.
“I could get used to this view,” she says easily, turning back to face the mountains.
I leave the phone on the concrete pool deck and move up next to her. “Sometimes I forget how pretty it is here,” I say. “Living other places. Traveling all over. Then I come home, and I’m surprised, you know? That I got to grow up here, enjoy views like this every day.”
“I’ve never lived anywhere else,” Audrey says. “But I’m still convinced this has to be the prettiest place on earth.”
