Page 28 of Y'allywood Billionaire

When Maddox takes his, he says, “Are there tweezers to go with these?” There’s a slur to his tone, and I decide I like tipsy Maddox.

Eric busts up, and I expect Skye to spout off some grand reason they’re so small. Instead, she grumbles, “Damn Amazon. In the pictures, they looked normal-sized. How was I supposed to know?”

Billy walks over, slipping his glasses from his head to his eyes to study one. “Love, you gotta look at the description to see the size.”

Skye scowls. “Who actually does that? I don’t even know where that is. They should note it’s for a damn mouse on the picture.”

The group writes our wishes on paper, mine being to get a permanent contract for my role inUrban Dawn. Then Skye has us put our folded papers in a copper vase before burning them.

She stands silent before she booms, “Let these wishes go with love and light!” Spreading the ashes in the wind, she calls out, “So, it is done!”

I’m buzzed and content as Maddox and I head to our yurt, arm in arm, and my butterflies are exploding in my gut. I’m about to spend the evening in a bed with him. Which is already awkward enough given that we’re co-workers, but also, it’sMaddox, and he does things to me that make all logic vanish from my mind.

I’m preparing for an uncomfortable moment of changing inside the yurt when Maddox drops all his clothes and stands naked as he searches for his pajama bottoms.

“Oh, wow. Okay.” My words are casual, but I’m staring at him—his lean, cut body moving in the dim lighting his muscular ass that dents when it moves. And, of course, that stellar appendage.

On an unrelated note—right—I decide I love this kind of camping. We get to sleep under the amazing moon and stars, yet with the comfort of being inside, in a bed, without waking up in dewy sleeping bags. It’s the best of both worlds.

While his back is turned, I quickly slip out of my clothes into my jammies, then we both step into the bathroom to brush our teeth and wash our faces.

Then Maddox and I jump into bed and lie back-to-back.

We’re all settled in when he says, “Rook?”

“Madman?”

“I’m scared of the dark. Will you cuddle me?” He still sounds tipsy.

I bust up, then realize I’m probably being too loud. The walls of these yurts are heavy tent material, which is why there’d be no funny business happening between us even if we wanted there to be. “That’s not even a good line.”

“It’s not a line. I’m a little scared. I hear noises.”

“You, scared? I don’t buy it.” I flop over to face him. “We could be in Armageddon, and you’d be having a beer with the cockroaches.” It’s funny seeing the silhouette of Maddox’s face lying on a pillow. He almost looks like a little boy right now—sweet and charming.

He says, “I don’t know about the cockroach part, but if I was about to die, a good beer would be nice.”

“Noted.”

He rolls on his back. “Look up.”

I shift to see the moon, a surreal shade of blue, surrounded by scattered stars. “What a view, eh?” This truly is an amazing way to spend a weekend.

A burst of light streams across the night sky, and Maddox says, “Did you see that? A shooting star.”

“I saw it!” I suppress a squeal. “Doesn’t that mean we’ll have good luck or something?”

“Yup. It’s also a sign of love.”

My stomach flip flops.

Maddox sits up and rests his head on his hand. “When I was kid, Dad told me a shooting star was a signal to make important decisions about your future.” When I look at him, he says, “Maybe it means we should make a baby.”

I bust up. “Again, terrible line.”

His lip ticks up. “That onewaspretty bad. You’re forcing me to dig deep.”

“Then you don’t have much of an arsenal.”

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