Page 12

chapter eleven

Emily

My pillow was too hot. I sat up, turning it over, punching the middle blindly and falling back onto it with a frustrated grunt. Maybe I’d turned the heat up too high before going to bed, because my apartment was sweltering. I tore off my black velvet sleep mask and tossed it onto my bedside table. Instead of getting up right away to check the thermostat, I crossed my arms, staring up at the ceiling and watching the shifting lights from the street below.

I didn’t see anything about cavorting in the contract. The memory of Tuck’s words wound through my mind, the disdainful look he’d worn on his face as he’d challenged me, causing a zing of anger. Less than a week on the job and he was already pissing me off. I’d been right about this arrangement being a bad idea.

But I guess I was stuck now.

I tossed my comforter aside, feeling around for my slippers on the carpet next to my bed, and then padding out to the living room. I turned down the thermostat a few degrees and then sat down on my sofa and picked up the remote. A news program came on, and I turned the volume low, not necessarily wanting to get invested in a show but craving the noise, the voices. I felt…lonely.

Why do I feel lonely?

That was ridiculous, of course. I was surrounded by people all day long. I rarely, if ever, got any time to myself. Sitting alone like this should be a luxury. Sure, I wished Charlie hadn’t had to jet off to a publicity event for his next movie, but he’d be back in a couple of days. And I’d talk to him on the phone multiple times before that.

A small sound pinged out on my balcony, and I turned in that direction, nerves jittering under my skin.

What was that?

I waited, and a few seconds later, it happened again. A shadow moved outside, and I let out a small squeal, sliding down low on the sofa and then crouch-walking to my bedroom.

It’s just a piece of ivy blowing in the breeze.

But what if it isn’t?

I locked my bedroom door and hurried to where I’d left my phone on my bedside table. It was probably nothing. I was sure it was nothing.

But I did have a bodyguard.

I paid him to provide me peace of mind in the event a psychopath had somehow scaled my building and was trying to break into my apartment via the patio.

He answered on the second ring, sounding like I’d pulled him from sleep. “Hello?”

“Tuck?”

“Em?” I heard the creak of a bedspring as though he’d sat up. Or someone else had turned toward him. My heart picked up speed. “Are you okay?”

I paused, listening for a moment. When I didn’t hear any thing—or anyone—in the background, I let out a breath. “I heard a noise on my patio.”

“A noise? What kind of noise?”

“I don’t know. Like someone—”

“Someone?” More rustling as though he was pulling on clothes.

“Or some thing. I don’t know. It just…it made me nervous.”

“Okay. I’m on my way. Go in your bedroom and lock the door.”

“That’s where I’m calling from.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

I hung up, pacing as I waited, attempting to hear through the door anything that might be happening on the patio, but no sounds met my ears. Either it really was nothing, or the person was being exceedingly quiet.

Tuck was true to his word, and a text came through my phone exactly ten minutes later, asking me to open my door.

I scurried through my apartment and opened the door to find Tuck standing there with his hair mussed and a shadow of scruff on his jaw. His chest rose and fell as though he’d run there from across town.

“Can I come in?” he asked, eyeing me as I stood and stared at him.

“Oh—” I stepped back, allowing him entrance “—yes, of course. Thank you for coming over. I…um…hope I wasn’t interrupting anything…”

“Nope,” he said. “I was in bed.” He strode through the apartment and pulled aside the shade on the sliding glass door. I jumped behind him, my fingers on his back as I peeked out, half expecting to see some hideous clown or equally diabolical beast.

A pigeon sat on the glass table. At the sight of us, she let out a soft coo and flapped her wings before flying a short distance upward where she disappeared under an eve.

I stepped from behind Tuck’s impressively large back and followed him as he opened the glass doors. “Stay inside for a minute. I’m just going to check things out,” he said. There weren’t many places to hide, except maybe behind the ivy, but I appreciated his diligence.

I watched as he checked each corner and ran his hand over the plants, then stood on one of the chairs and peered up into the place where the pigeon had flown. He stepped down and came back inside. “You have a nest on your balcony,” he said.

I sucked in a gasp. “Baby birds? Can I see?”

“It’s your space. I’d stand back if I were you. Mothers can get aggressive if they think their young are being threatened.” As if I didn’t know that. Had he forgotten I was a country girl?

I stepped into the cool night air, climbing carefully up on the chair and then stretching my neck to look into the nest. The mama bird was in there, busily feeding three little open, upturned mouths. I grinned with delight, turning my face toward Tuck, who was watching me with a small, confused smile on his lips. There it is. That look. The one he’d given me…once.

Time seemed to still for a moment, the delight I’d felt at seeing the babies eclipsed by the greater pleasure of seeing Tuck look at me the same way I’d once craved so desperately.

He held out his hand, and I took it, stepping down from the chair. I looked at his hand in mine, so much bigger, his palm rough and calloused. His skin had always been dark. He tanned so easily. He was paler now. Too much time indoors. Years. “Thank you,” I said, my words emerging in a rush. “For coming over so quickly. I hope I didn’t…disturb you.” I felt strangely shy in a way I hadn’t in…well, a long time. It was an odd feeling, but also somehow familiar.

“No,” he said, and I worked to bring myself back to the conversation. “You didn’t disturb me. I was just reading.”

I smiled, brushing past him into the living room. He fol lowed, and I closed the sliding glass door behind him, latching it. “You and your books.”

He gave me a lopsided smile and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. They got me through a lot.”

A lot. Maybe he meant everything that had happened to him as a kid. Or maybe he meant serving time. Probably some of both. I shifted on my feet, feeling slightly uncomfortable. “That had to be very hard for you,” I said. “Being locked up.”

His eyes moved over my face as though searching, but then his expression seemed to fall in some slight way, and I sensed whatever he’d been looking for he hadn’t found. “It was, Emily.” He looked away, signaling that was all he was going to say about that. And I noted that it was back to Emily. No more Em.

Which was good. Of course. Our relationship was professional. It was confusing when it started to drift into other more intimate territory. So why was I disappointed? Not only in the fact that he obviously had no interest in opening up to me, but that the wall he’d momentarily lowered had just slammed solidly back into place? Why did I feel like I needed to save something, or defend something that I couldn’t even describe? A trill of panic rushed over my skin. I hated feeling like this with Tuck. Hated feeling this undefined want when it came to him and hated that I suspected he’d closed himself off because of something lacking in me.

I pulled my shoulders back, smiling the smile I’d practiced in the mirror, the one that was regal and slightly aloof, the one that sought to gain the upper hand. Not Em. Not even Emily. But Nova. I reserved it for those who got too close because they thought my public image meant they knew me. Or those who made me feel less-than. It was time to say good-night to Tuck. Instead, I blurted out, “I’ll have you know that my team weighed the risks and determined that lip-synching my own music was in my best interest.” I knew that was at least part of the reason he looked at me with such disdain. He thought I’d tossed my standards aside for fame. I understood that, and it was the only thing I could address or defend. “The dance moves are very intense and I’m not only a singer—I’m a performer. Fans are paying for the whole package.”

One of Tuck’s eyebrows went up and the other went down as though he was as surprised as me over my sudden outburst. I remembered that look. He’d given it to me often, growing up. Only then, it had usually been followed by a disarmed smile. Right now, there was no trace of affection in his expression. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

I resisted a cringe. “No, you’re right. I don’t. It’s just, well, it’d be in your best interest to root for my success. A lot of people are depending on me for their paychecks, including you, by the way, and if I mess this up… I’ll let them all down.”

“That’s a lot of pressure,” he said. “But I hope you’re not only doing this for other people.”

“Of course not,” I snapped. “I’m in full agreement with how things are being done.”

“Good. It’s your life. Your career. You have to manage it as you see fit.”

The words he said didn’t match the tone in his voice and I bristled. More judgment. “And you? Are you living your life as you see fit, Tuck?”

“Low blow,” he said smoothly. “I’m trying.”

I released a long breath and pinched the top of my nose. He’d come rushing over here to help me, and I was insulting him. True, he was getting paid to respond to my calls, but still. I felt emotionally out of whack and somehow completely unsurprised that of all the people who might have managed to make me feel that way, it was still only him. “We always did love to fight, didn’t we?” I asked.

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” he said. “And that was a long time ago.”

“Yes, it was.” I shifted on my feet more, and now that we weren’t fighting, I felt that odd shyness once again. He just seemed so big. He sort of sucked all the air out of the room. “So, um, you saw the schedule I emailed over, right? We leave for fittings in New York on Monday?”

He nodded. “Yes. I’ll be ready.”

“Okay. Good. Charlie’s coming too, so it’ll be the three of us.”

A troubled expression moved over his features. “By the way, why didn’t Charlie come over to check out the patio?”

“He’s out of town for work. He left a few hours ago.”

“It must be hard,” he said, “spending so much time in different cities.”

I gave a small shrug. “It’s worth it. And it won’t always be this…intense,” I said, giving a small laugh. Charlie was at the height of his career and my own was just beginning to take off. There would be a time when our lives didn’t revolve around constant ladder climbing and social engagements. There would be a time when we could afford to say no to some things, and yes only to that which set our souls alight. Creatively speaking.

He was looking at me that way again, as though he heard something I wasn’t saying. I didn’t like it. It made me feel exposed. “So, you’re pretty serious, then, I take it?”

His question surprised me. Or rather, the fact that he’d asked it surprised me after I’d just been thinking about how, up to this point, he’d seemed to avoid any personal connection.

“Yes,” I said. “Very serious.” We hadn’t talked marriage or kids or anything, but I could see it going that way…a few years from now. Again, when life ceased to be as intense as it currently was.

Something flitted over his face once more, but before I could attempt to read Tuck’s expression, he turned slightly, looking toward the door. “I should go.”

“Oh. Yes. Right. Thanks again. Oh, do you need to call an Uber?”

“I’ll do it downstairs. I downloaded the app.”

“Oh great.” I smiled as I opened the door. “Look at you, downloading apps.” I cringed. What the hell are you talking about, Em? “Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome.” He started walking out, and I moved to close the door when he suddenly turned back. We almost collided, and I pulled in a big inhale of his T-shirt. Soap and sage and clean male skin. God, he smelled good. I practically jumped away. “Don’t forget to lock the door behind me. And I know this building provides some security, but it wouldn’t hurt to get an alarm on that sliding glass door. You know, for peace of mind.”

“That’s a great idea. Good night, Tuck.”

For a moment I thought he might say something more, but he didn’t, simply stepping back into the vestibule.

I closed the door and flipped both locks, listening as his soft footsteps moved away, then I let my head fall forward, my forehead connecting with the wood.

I knew I was no longer in danger, so why did I still feel so shaky?