Page 66 of The Fangirl and the Playboy

Holy shit, what have I done?

I should’ve talked to her about it, first. I didn’t want to get her hopes up should it not pan out, but now that it has?

I’m wondering if maybeI’mthe one who got my hopes up a little too high.

“Stop it, Gavin.” I mutter, shaking my head to clear it as I pull into her complex’s parking lot.

I’m not going to be a coward. Not this time.

This time, I’ll do whatever it takes. No matter how scary it is.

When Willow opens her door for me, my head jerks back a bit. I’ve never seen her look like this, her eyes bloodshot and her complexion looking a bit green.

“Are you okay?” I ask softly as I step inside, remembering her insistence that I whisper. “Are you coming down with something?”

She shakes her head and shuffles into the living room, leaving me to close the door and follow.

“Girls’ night. Margaritas. Too much tequila,” she mumbles, her hands coming up to bracket her head like it might fall off if she doesn’t.

“Oh,” I say gently. “Keegan?”

“And Pressley,” she says. “Celebrating. Need coffee.”

“I’ll get it,” I say quickly, motioning for her to keep her seat on the couch.

This isn’t how I expected this to go, but my need to take care of her supersedes my desire to share my news. It can wait a few minutes until she’s caffeinated and not feeling like death.

Once her coffee brews, and I’ve doctored it to her liking, I bring the steaming mug into the living room. Handing it to her carefully, I return her smile of thanks. Taking a seat next to her on the couch, I reach over to massage her neck muscles. Her groan of pleasure vibrates through me, and I motion for her to turn so I can work the knots from her neck, shoulders, and back.

“What were you celebrating?” I ask after she takes another sip from her mug.

“Pressley has decided to move here, permanently,” she says, her voice still low like she’s trying to avoid more pain.

“Seriously? That’s amazing,” I say. “I bet Keegan is happy.”

“She is. We both are,” Willow says, rolling her head to stretch her neck muscles as I knead them. “She still needs to find a place to live, and I guess Trace is helping with that. He’s always got his fingers on the pulse of Evening Shade’s real estate, so hopefully he’ll be able to find her something.”

Good to know.

“What were you up to last night?” she asks before I can respond, and I can hear the nerves in her tone.

“Were you worried?” I ask, leaning forward to press a light kiss to the side of her neck.

“No,” she says, too quickly, then sags. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

Reaching around her body, I take her cup from her hand and set it on the coffee table. Then I pull her across my lap and settle back into the sofa, loving the feel of her in my arms like this. She relaxes into me, and I nuzzle the spot where her neck meets her shoulder.

“I had a meeting with the producer and director of the television show I’ll be filming this spring.”

Willow stiffens, then pulls back to meet my gaze with wide eyes. “You got the part?”

“I did,” I reply, my smile widening.

“That’s amazing, Gavin. Congratulations,” she says, twisting in my arms until she’s straddling me, then she presses her lips to mine in a quick, soft kiss.

“You’re happy for me,” I say, unable to hide the wonder from my voice.

“Of course, I am,” she says, confusion clouding her eyes. “Why would that surprise you?”

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