Page 65 of The Bombshell and the Bodyguard
Jessica got up and pulled something from her pocket. She came to sit right next to me, taking my hand and pressing something into my palm.
My notebook.
“This—is who you are. This is the Wilder Lowe I know. You left it on the piano last night. I didn’t read anymore of it, by the way.”
“It’s okay if you did.”
She gave me a guilty grin, holding up a hand with her thumb and forefinger spread a half-inch apart.
“Okay, good because Imighthave peeked just a little—just a couple of pages. I promise.”
Sliding a hand around my nape, she massaged it. “One thing fame and this crazy entertainment business has taught me is the importance of really knowing yourself and trusting that who you are deep inside isokay. It’s enough—even when people question what you do and say and print unflattering things about you, lies about you. Especially then.”
She shrugged and scooted back on the daybed, leaning against the wall behind it.
“I’m sure when I don’t show up for Coachella, they’ll start saying I’m in rehab or had a nervous breakdown or something, but you know what? I don’tcare. I know the truth. I’d rather be here with you anyway.”
I turned my head to meet her eyes again.
“How the fuck am I supposed to resist you?” I whispered.
“You’re not.” She laughed softly. “I told you tostopdoing that.”
For a minute I sat frozen as an internal battle raged inside. Was it worth it?
Worth the furious reaction I’d no doubt get from my best friend when Hap found out about this new development between his sister and me?
Worth the inevitable publicity storm when the entertainment media found out about the new man in Jade’s life?
Jessica maintained our intense eye contact, looking at me with a secret smile that was both an invitation and a challenge.
“You’re the boss,” I whispered, then I reached over and pulled her down onto the bed with me. “And I knowexactlywho I am deep inside—yours. I’m yours Jessica, for as long as you want me.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Worth the Wait
Jessica
Now that Wilder had made up his mind, he wasseriousabout it.
He rolled on top of me, pinning me with his body, touching and kissing me in a sort of sensual frenzy that had my head spinning and my body sayingHooyah.
It felt amazing, but he was alsoreallyheavy. Wilder was nearly three hundred pounds of muscle and bone, and while I wasn’t a tiny woman, I was no Navy SEAL either.
He must have realized he was crushing me at about the same time I was trying to get his attention, because he did a pushup over me—at theexactmoment I pushed on his side.
In a sudden, shocking motion, Wilder went right over the edge of the bed.
I scrambled to my knees, looking over the edge of it. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
He reached up and rubbed the side of his forehead. “Fuck.You literally threw me out of bed. Was that payback for last night?”
I could tell by his tone of voice he was kidding. But I still felt terrible. And when he moved his hand, there was blood on it.
I slid off the bed, crouching beside him. “Oh no. You’re hurt. What did you hit your head on? The floor?”
He looked a little embarrassed. “I think maybe it hit one of the metal latches on your guitar case. I hope I didn’t break it.”
