Page 26 of Worth Every Moment (Hawkston Billionaires #4)

If her recently leaked audition tapes are anything to go by, I very much doubt it.

Never have I seen a more awkward screen performance.

I hate to break it to you, Erica, but you don’t have my vote, and I’m not sure you’ve got the sex appeal to captivate a man like Michael Drayton, let alone the worldwide cinema-going audience.

If I were Abigail Enwright, I would have serious questions about Miss Lefroy, if she does indeed attempt to go for this role.

As ever, we’re interested in public opinion. What do you think? Erica Lefroy, hot or not?

Beneath it there’s a website address for readers to cast their vote online.

When I look back at Erica, she’s leaning forward, her head in her hands as tears drip between her fingers and onto her knees.

This reaction cannot just be about the article.

She’s well-versed in shitty publicity. It’s part and parcel of being in the public eye.

Hell, we’ve sat on her sofa and laughed at some of the outrageous comments on her social media posts.

Those trolls can be vicious, but I’ve never seen her like this.

I fold up the paper and put it aside. “Where the fuck is my phone?” Erica glances my way, frowning, but I keep theatrically searching my jacket pockets for it even though I know full well it’s in my trouser pocket. “I’ve got to submit my vote. Hot. The answer is fucking hot. Erica Lefroy is hot.”

She lowers her head, rubbing her thumb and forefinger over her eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile on her face, even though she’s refusing to look at me.

I abort my fake search for my phone. “Michael Drayton’s very good looking, but really, he’s not worth all these tears.”

She glances at me sideways, the tiniest curve to her lips. “You couldn’t not make a joke.”

I take her shift in demeanor as permission to move closer.

I want to touch her so badly. Comfort her.

I might have guided her to the car just now, but that felt necessary.

Protective. I had to shield her from that shit out there.

But now, in the car, virtually alone aside from the driver, I don’t know if I can touch her again. Not after our last encounter.

She leans into me, her weight settling against my side. She must want to be held . My heart aches at the thought and I slide my arm around her back, not knowing what the fuck to say next.

“Your breasts are definitely not inverted.”

Good one, Seb.

She leans forward, spurts of pitiful laughter breaking through her tears. “Are you not done yet?”

“I’m taking a stand against fake news.” She snorts like a pig, but at least it sounds like one who’s having a good time.

Or a moderate time. Maybe one who was wailing about being turned into bacon and has discovered they’re being upgraded to a hog roast. “I’ll run down Oxford Street in my boxers yelling, ‘Erica Lefroy has perfect tits’, if it’ll make you feel better.

” I stroke my chin, striking a thoughtful pose, and Erica peers up at me.

“I mean, you’d have to let me see them first. I don’t want to inadvertently add to the fake news. ”

She sighs and leans back against me. “I really hate you sometimes.” I can tell by the resigned and yet relaxed way she says it that she doesn’t mean it. “But thank you.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes until her fingers find my wrist. Heat leaks through me from the point of contact, my awareness narrowing as if her delicate touch on my skin is the only thing of importance in the entire universe.

She slides the sleeve of my shirt upwards, her thumb resting on the pulse point.

“You gave him your watch?” she whispers.

I shift my hand so my sleeve slips down. “I’d have given him more than that to leave you alone.”

“Thank you,” she whispers again.

An awkwardness I can’t make sense of descends. Erica glances out of the window, but I’m not ready to lose her attention.

“Michael Drayton, eh?” I say, referencing the actor from the article. “He’s the one Nico hit that night at Martini Gems. Do you remember? Kate was drunk, and he was dancing with her and Nico didn’t like it.”

“I remember.”

“Did he have his nose straightened in the end? He tried to send Nico a bill for plastic surgery to fix it.”

Erica’s energy turns frosty, and I don’t know what I said to cause it.

“You want to tell me what’s really wrong?” I ask gently. “What happened back there?”

She slumps into the seat. “Mum wants me to get a boob job. And I said no, and then she gave me that article as evidence that she’s right and I’m wrong and I’ll never make it in the movies.”

“Ah.” I rub a hand over my jaw. “So the inverted boobs comment hit hard.”

“Today, yeah.”

“Unless your boobs are fantastic actresses, I’m not sure it matters.”

She huffs. “Yeah. That’s more or less what I said. But she also wants me to get my ears pinned back, and the lump shaved off my nose. And there was something else…”

Her nose? Her ears? “What does your mother see when she looks at you?”

Erica clasps her hands in her lap and stares down at them. “Imperfection.”

I have so many questions, because, in my mind, Erica Lefroy is the most perfect woman I’ve ever met. I don’t push for her to say more because I can tell she doesn’t want to elaborate, so I merely say, “I’d never want to change a single thing about you.”

She bites her bottom lip and stares into her lap, and for a while, we sit in silence as the car drives through the streets of midtown.

I know we can’t continue to ignore what happened last time we met, or why we haven’t spoken.

It’s sitting here with us, the great big unspoken elephant in the back of the car, and finally, I can’t bear it any longer.

“So… are we okay now?”

She turns slowly to look at me. “Feels like you're asking that a lot recently.”

“Feels like I need to,” I say solemnly, easing my arm out from behind her. “So… are we?”

Erica glances out of the window, and her response comes a beat too slow.

“Because you made a few shitty jokes, or because you smashed a camera and forced me into your car in the middle of Harley Street?” The tilt of her mouth tells me she’s teasing, or trying to, but I sense discomfort beneath her pretense.

“Neither. Because last time I saw you, I had my head between your legs, and then you called me names and ran away.”

She emits a pained sounding sigh, tips her head against the headrest and closes her eyes. “Oh. Yeah,” she murmurs. “That.”

“That,” I repeat quietly, a slow sense of dread filling me. Maybe bringing this up is a bad idea.

Silence fills the car for a few tense moments until Erica opens her eyes and glances at me. “Amy said I should call you to apologise.”

“You told her what happened?”

“Yes.” She glances away. “Sorry. I had to talk to someone about it.”

“But you didn’t take her advice?” Erica shakes her head, and I sigh. “You could have talked to me. You know that, right?”

She rubs her thumb into her opposite palm, over and over again. “You didn’t call me either. And you said what happened between us was meaningless.”

That's the biggest goddamn lie I've ever told. Tension throbs between us, dragging the beat of my heart into its rhythm. “You said you’d wipe every second of the encounter from your memory if you could.”

She side-eyes me. “You said you’d bend me over and fuck the brat out of me.”

I cough, spluttering into my hand. Never did I think I’d hear Erica say those words. In fact, I never expected her to mention them again. “I did. I meant it too. You were really fucking mean.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers with what sounds like genuine regret.

“Me too. I wanted to call you, but I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me.

” I wait for a moment in case she wants to tell me she did want to.

Or maybe she missed me. But I get none of that, and although her lack of response causes a pinch in my chest, I keep talking.

“Anyway, we can pretend nothing happened, if you want. I’ve brushed my teeth many times since then.

Twice a day, at least. So what’s that? Like 100 times.

Roughly. Safe to say, I have well and truly divested myself of your intoxicating bodily fluids, delicious as they were. ”

Dropping her head into her hands, she brings her palms together until only her nose and mouth are covered. “Ugh, Seb,” she moans, lowering her hands to her thighs. “I think I went temporarily insane, letting you loose down there. That’s never happening again.”

Never ? The word slides between my ribs like a well-honed blade, but I can’t afford to indulge the pain it causes with her by my side. I don’t want to scare her away again.

She looks so awkward that my own discomfort recedes to the back of my mind. I’d love to take her in my arms and tell her none of it matters. There’s no reason to be embarrassed or regretful or whatever it is she’s feeling. I’d never judge her.

“I think I went temporarily insane being allowed down there,” I admit.

“Like a starving man at an all you can eat buffet. You can’t let him taste the food and then take it all away.

That’s enough to send a hungry man crazy.

” I keep my tone as light as possible. It’s for the best if she thinks I’m emotionally detached enough to joke about what happened, especially after she said what happened between us can never be repeated.

“Good thing you’re the most well-fed man I know then.

” She keeps rubbing at her palm, and although it sounds like she’s teasing, there’s a bitterness there too.

At least I think there is. Could she be…

jealous ? Not that I’d wish jealousy on anyone, but— fuck it —I’d love it if she were.

More likely, she’s judging me again and her words from that night ring loud in my head.

Go and find someone else to stick your tongue in. Isn’t that what you’re good at?

I want to tell her I haven’t stuck my tongue in anyone since that night because now that I’ve tasted her, I never, ever , want to taste another woman in my life.

From this moment on, it’s Erica or no one.

But I keep quiet, and lift one of her hands from where it’s resting on her thigh.

I half expect her to snatch it away, but she doesn’t, so I just sit there holding it.

“If you want me to remember, I will. If you want me to forget, I will.” I reconsider this.

“Actually, I’ll never forget. But I’ll push it right out of mind, if that’s what you want.

If that’s what it takes to have you in my life. ”

She squeezes my hand, turning bloodshot eyes on me. “I’d like to have you in my life too. Please.” My hand feels hot in hers, our pulses clashing as she takes a few sobering breaths. “Really, Seb. I’m so sorry. I was horrible to you. I didn’t mean it.”

Her apology slides into my bloodstream like a sedative, slowing my heartbeat and making me feel woozy, but rather than sink into the comfort of it, I force myself to stay present.

“Don’t bullshit me,” I say with a gentle firmness. “You meant it.”

“Not all of it. Mostly it was me freaking out. Because… you know. It’s you.

And me.” I’m not entirely sure exactly what she means by that, but before I can request clarification, regret fills her dark eyes.

“Please don’t hold onto it. What I think about your sex life is irrelevant.

It’s none of my business.” I wince; her anger might be preferable to her indifference.

“And you’re not a joke. Not to me, at least.”

Thank fuck for that last part . I want to lift her hand and kiss it, but I daren’t. Not yet. Erica’s might be the only opinion that really matters to me, but what she’s offered isn’t enough to know that I’m fully redeemed in her eyes. “That sounds like you think I’m a joke to everyone else.”

“I can’t speak for anyone else, but to me… you’re important. Really important.” The repetition squeezes my heart, and I’m so fucking thankful to hear her say it that I feel like a total loser. “I’m so sorry. Can we be friends?”

Friends . That word doesn’t remotely encompass what I want to be to Erica. What I want to have with her. A dull ache spreads behind my sternum, and without thinking, I rub the heel of my free hand against it.

“Yeah. Always. You’re important to me too.” I raise a brow at her, maintaining levity in my tone despite the pain in my heart, as I say, “I was still your friend when I was eating you out. I’m definitely capable of both of those things. Just in case… you know… there’s any wiggle room on that.”

A smile cracks her face even as her eyes roll. “There is absolutely no wiggle room. That was a complete one off. Never to be repeated.”

I thump a fist against my heart. “Hit me where it fucking hurts, Lefroy.” The pain in my voice is so exaggerated that it could only be construed as false. Little does she know, it really does fucking hurt, and I wish to God I could tell her the truth.

She puffs out an exasperated sigh, but I can tell she’s amused. “How can you be so sweet and such an arse all at once?”

“I’m uniquely talented. Now, tell me.” I nod out the window, where the streets of London are flashing by. “Where am I taking you?”

“Weren’t you on your way somewhere?”

“You’re more important than anything I was going to do today. Where do you want to go?”

She’s silent for a long while. “Anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”