Page 42 of Broken Bridges

“Shh. It’s fine.” I smiled sweetly over my clenched teeth. As I took a seat beside her, the throbbing pain subsided. I picked up my glass of watered-down apple-juice, which passed for white wine, and was ready to roll.

The only things that helped me get through each day of filming were painkillers and these girls. The ladies were in their element, and we did have fun. Mia hardly had to act for her role as a quirky graphic designer at a fashion magazine. Peyton transformed from her meek bookworm self into this hard-ass professional LA Times editor. Sutton dazzled and thrived in her dream acting job.

We were halfway through filming the third take of the scene when there was a kerfuffle behind the camera crew. I spun around to see what had happened. My pulse hit the boom mic. Flint and Lewis stood by our camera assistant with huge grins smeared across their faces.

What the hell? Flint had been here a couple times over the past few weeks but not the other guys. Not Lewis. Visitors weren’t banned, but security was strict. Sutton must have added him onto the approved list. I’ll kill her. A heatwave washed over me. I tugged on the collar of my blouse. Shit. Had someone turned the air-conditioning off?

The second we finished the take, Sutton leaped from her seat and rushed over to Flint. She flung her arms around his neck and gave him a steamy kiss on the lips. A big grin lit his face. He seemed to relish the attention just as much as Sutton did.

I headed over to join them. Mia and Peyton followed.

As I neared Lewis, my pulse quickened. In designer jeans and a tight black T-shirt, and with his hair pulled back into a man bun, he made handsome devil look way too fucking hot. Some more time apart couldn’t come soon enough.

Mia hungrily eyed him up and down. She’d just started dating Peyton in real-life. Whether she...or they...swung both ways or not, she was wasting her time with Lewis.

Mia dug her elbow into my arm. “Tia, are you going to introduce us, please?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Mia. Peyton. This is Lewis King, the bassist in Flint’s band.”

“Nice to meet you.” He shook their hands. “Have fun filming today?”

“Yeah.” Peyton shrugged, unflustered by the interruption. Not like I was. “Are you sticking around to watch our last take?”

“We sure are.” Lewis’s gaze drilled into me, making my insides quiver, then he winked. “Afterwards, we’re kidnapping the girls to take them out for the evening.”

“You are?” I raised an eyebrow. This was news to me.

“Yep.” Flint nodded. “It’s Duke’s birthday.”

Damn it. I hadn’t seen him in more than a year. Duke and his band were mutual friends of The Flintlocks and mine. Chloe, his wife, was probably one of my best friends here in LA. But since moving back home, I hadn’t called or caught up with anyone. I wasn’t ready to do so. So nope. “You three can go. I’m not.” My shoulders sagged. “I’ve had a long day. I want to go home.”

“Tia. No.” Flint waggled a finger at me. “You’re coming. It’s Friday night. Cole and Slip dropped us off here and insisted we manhandle you if necessary. So text your driver and tell him you’ve got other plans. You are coming, so don’t argue.”

I closed my eyes. My ankle ached. I didn’t want to go out. Fuck!

“Tee?” Lewis softened his tone. “It’s time to live a little.”

I sneered at him. My stomach hurt. I hated that he was right.

“Okay, everyone.” Frank joined us, hooking his arms around Peyton’s and Sutton’s shoulders. “Flint, your hot ass keeps interrupting my crew. I have a show to film on a tight budget. Can I please have my ladies back and do one more take?”

“Absolutely.” Flint held up his hands and grinned. “I’m not here. I’m invisible.”

The gathering cluster of crew fluttering their eyelashes at Flint and Lewis said otherwise.

Frank jutted his chin at Lewis. “And who do you belong to?”

The sexiest of dimples formed near Lewis’s mouth as he smiled. “I’m Lewis. Flint’s bassist and Tia’s housemate.”

“Oh, great.” Frank rolled his eyes. “More rock stars to deal with.”

“Guess so.” Lewis grinned.

“Fine.” Frank pointed to our director’s chairs. “Sit over there and don’t make a sound while we finish this take.”

“Will do.” Lewis gave him a quick yes-sir salute. He stepped over to me and spoke in a low, sultry voice, close to my ear. “You’ve watched me perform many times. Now I get to watch you. Fair’s fair, right? So you’d better put on a good show.”

Heat crept into my cheeks. Shivers darted across my skin. This wasn’t the kind of show my mind and body wanted to give him. “This won’t be anywhere near as hot as me watching you make out with guys. You’ll be bored in five minutes.”

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