Wicked Heart (Starcrossed #3)(24)

That’s why it’s disturbing when I walk in this morning to hear sex noises. They’re quiet, but definitely there.

I grab my big metal flashlight and creep backstage, ready to confront horny teenagers who probably snuck in while our security guard, Guido, was off getting his fourth espresso of the day.

As I sneak through the backstage shadows, I realize the noises are coming from Liam’s dressing room.

Oh, God. Really?

My heart’s in my throat as I approach the door. It’s open, and bright light bleeds into the dark corridor.

The soft grunting continues, and I shouldn’t find it arousing considering that the thought of finding him with another girl makes me want to throw up.

I close my eyes and take a breath. “Liam? Is that you?”

The grunting stops just long enough for him to say, “Yeah. Come in.” Then the noises start up again.

Okay. This could be awkward.

I step into the doorway and freeze. He’s not having sex. He’s lying on the ground, knees bent, doing sit-ups.

Shirtless.

My sweet giddy Christ.

Pecs, wide and hard. Abs, everywhere. Way too many to be normal. Biceps pop as he presses his hands behind his head.

I’m ashamed to say I’ve imagined what Liam’s naked torso would look like too many times to count, but I’ve never actually seen it until now. Clearly, I have the imagination skills of a cabbage, because his actual body? In the immortal words of Keanu Reeves: Whoa.

“You just going to stand there and watch?” he asks, a little out of breath.

“Yep.” The contraction of his abs has me completely mesmerized. I can’t look away. “Anyway . . . uh . . . this is about as close to exercise as I like to get. But please, you knock yourself out.”

My God, his body is insane.

He chuckles at my slack-jawed expression. “Okay, then. There’s a chair if you’d like to make yourself more comfortable.”

I lean against the door frame instead. Don’t really trust my legs to make it the three steps to the chair right now.

“How many have you done?” I ask, vaguely fascinated.

“About a hundred.”

“How many do you have left?”

“Another two hundred.”

“Seems excessive.”

“Not really, considering Miriam wants me to spend most of the play shirtless. She told me last night. No pressure or anything.”

He goes back to grunting every time he sits up. My knees go weak.

“When I heard you,” I say, “I thought you . . . um, had a girl in here.”

He sits up and rests his elbows on his knees. “What?” I watch as a droplet of sweat runs down his neck and onto his chest.

“I thought you were . . .” I bob my head in the “you know” gesture.

He frowns. “You thought I was having sex?” I nod. “In my dressing room?” I nod again. “With someone who isn’t you?” He screws up his face. “Jesus, lady, go get yourself another cup of coffee, because you’re not thinking straight.”

He goes back to his sit-ups. “Besides, this sounds nothing like the noises I make when I’m having sex.”

“What sort of noises do you make, then?”

“Can’t tell you. I want it to be a surprise.” He raises an eyebrow, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Aaaand on that note, I have to go.”

“Really? Wouldn’t you rather come?”

I shake my head, and as I grab the door to close it, he starts moaning. “Oh, God, Liss. Yes. Grab that hard door handle. Right there. Fuck, yes. Wrap your hand around it and pull. Ahhhhh!”

I close the door and shake my head as I walk away. I make a mental note that it’s not cool in any way to be aroused by exercise grunting or dirty talk about doors. It’s a pity my body continues to ignore all logic and reason as far as Liam Quinn is concerned.


I grab the stack of paper off the photocopier, and soon I’m smiling.

Reviews. Lots of them. All of them glowing. Our show is officially a hit, and even though everyone in the cast is excellent, Liam and my brother Ethan, who’s playing Mercutio, are getting all the attention.

It doesn’t surprise me. Hot actors who are also talented as hell? It’s the bedrock on which Broadway was built.

I head backstage and distribute the reviews to the dressing rooms. Actors love reading nice things about themselves. It will put the whole cast in a good mood for the show tonight.

When I get back to my console, side stage, I roll my neck and wince as it cracks. I don’t think I’ve sat down all day, and the dull thud of a potential headache lingers behind my eyeballs.

I jump when large hands curl over my shoulders.

“Relax.” Liam’s deep voice resonates behind me. “You’re so tense you’re going to sprain something. Thank you for the reviews; I’m sure my parents are going to wallpaper their living room with them. I appreciate you taking the time to copy them, so I’m here to do something nice for you.”

Strong fingers dig into my neck muscles, and I bite back a groan. “Oh, my God.”

“Come on now. We’re past that sort of formality. You can call me Liam.”

I close my eyes as he kneads away the tension in my neck and shoulders. It feels so good, it borders on sexual.