Wicked Heart (Starcrossed #3)(47)



I lean on the door. “Me, too. I think for our first venture as sort-of friends, it went well.”

“It did. Except for your dancing. at sucked.” He smiles and moves a bit closer. “See you at rehearsal Monday.”

He touches my shoulder and runs his hand down to my wrist. I try to keep my expression neutral, but I think my eyelids flutter. “See you then.”

On a whim, I move forward and hug him. He freezes for a moment, then tightens his arms and sighs. When our bodies press fully against each other, the contact makes me gasp.

Liam’s hard.

Very hard.

He must realize I notice, because he quickly pulls back. “Shit. Sorry. My . . . uh . . . body hasn’t gotten the memo about us being friends yet. Mind you, you’re not helping matters by wearing that dress. Give a guy a break, Liss.” He runs his hands through his hair and exhales. “Okay. Now I’m blushing. Good night.”

After he disappears down the stairs, I close the door behind him and lean back on it. Josh comes out of his bedroom and heads into the kitchen. He’s wearing his favorite Captain Kirk pajamas. He grabs a bag of frozen peas from the fridge and comes over to swap them for the barely cold ice pack in my hands.

He gives me a smug look. “You gave him a boner, didn’t you?”

I press the peas to my hip and hobble toward my room. “Good night, Joshua.”

“Okay, fine. My ‘told you so’ can wait until morning. Oops. Look at that. Seems it can’t.”

I smile as I shut my bedroom door and op onto the bed. My hip may be aching, but I’m kind of thrilled I can still make Liam Quinn’s body dance to my short, curvy-girl tune.





TEN


A VERY BAD PLAN


Monday morning, I have a killer bruise on my hip and a slight limp, but other than that, I have no lasting damage from Saturday night. Well, apart from the memory of Liam’s erection pressing into my stomach.

“Morning, sweet friend,” Angel says, as she comes over and hugs me. “Present for you.” She lays a copy of Dancing for Dummies wrapped in a big red bow on the production desk.

I give her a deadpan look. “I hate you.”

“Impossible. I’m adorable.” She laughs and heads off to prepare for rehearsal.

Beside me, Josh sighs in frustration. “Screw her and her perfect sense of humor.” He points to his computer. “By the way, have you seen this?”

I lean down and examine the screen. It’s a gossip site, and they have dozens of pictures of all of us leaving the restaurant Saturday night. Of course, the main focus is the series of shots of Liam shoving people aside, his face contorted and angry. I roll my eyes at the headline—DOES THIS RAGEHEART STAR NEED ANGER MANAGEMENT?—and the accompanying article: “Tough guy Liam Quinn allegedly assaulted innocent bystanders while out and about with friends on Saturday night. At this stage, it’s not certain if charges will be brought.”

Just then Liam enters the room. When he sees me, he gives me a quick wave, then goes and sits down. He seems on edge as he pulls out his script and bends over it in concentration. When the camera crew comes over to film him, he shoos them away, then goes back to squinting at the page in front of him.

Huh. I’ve never seen him with his script before. He tugs on his hair in agitation, and I wonder if it’s because his picture is splashed all over the Internet. Or maybe he’s still embarrassed about our exchange at the door on Saturday night. Perhaps both?

When we start rehearsal, it becomes even clearer he’s distracted. Angel enters for their first exchange, and he messes up nearly every line. After a few failed attempts, he sighs in frustration. “Shit. Sorry, Marco.”

“It’s all right, Mr. Quinn,” Marco says. “Elissa, please remind Liam of his next speech.”

I read Petruchio’s lines from my script. “You lie, in faith for you are call’d plain Kate. And bonny Kate and sometimes Kate the curst. But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom. Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate. For dainties are all Kates—”

“Stop,” Liam says, and holds up his hand. “Just slow down for a second. What comes after, ‘And bonny Kate’?”

I reread the line. He shakes his head and sighs. “Again.”

I repeat it. He says it back.

When we restart the scene, he nails it, but everything grinds to a halt again after Angel gives him his next cue.

She walks over and cradles his face. “You okay? You look flushed.”

Liam’s takes her hands and squeezes them. “Just having a bad day, that’s all. I’ll be right back.”

He pulls away from her and takes off his mic pack. Then he points to the camera crew and says, “Stay,” before he strides out of the room.

Okay, what the hell is going on? I’ve never seen Liam so unprepared.

“Damage control, please, Elissa,” Marco whispers. “I’ll stay here and work with Angel. Find out what’s going on and fix it. The last thing we need right now is to fall behind schedule. Our backers are coming next week, and I want them to feel confident our stars are worth their exorbitant fees.”

“On it.” I head off to find Liam. I check the conference room first, but it’s empty. When I hear banging coming from the men’s bathroom, I open the door to find Liam standing over a destroyed trash can.

Leisa Rayven's Books