Behind His Lens(51)

I laugh, “Ah, is it one of the perks of being friends with the director?”

“Something like that. Let me get your bags.” He reaches down and grabs my suitcase, but I keep my carry-on wrapped around my body.

“I got this,” I smile, and he doesn’t fight me on it as we start to wander toward our rooms. The journey takes us much longer than it should have because we keep stopping to marvel at the absolute beauty that is Hawaii. We saw an aerial view of the islands from the airplane, but standing in paradise feels completely different. The resort is open and airy. There’s no clear delineation between the outdoors and the interior of the building, just sloped roof structures and pillars every now and then. The crystal clear water practically laps up into the hotel and a rush of excitement passes through me at the idea of getting to swim in it tomorrow.

I wish we had the time today, after all, it’s only three in the afternoon, but I have a few fittings and makeup tests before the shoot tomorrow morning. Those are the last things I want to be doing after traveling over ten hours, but it shouldn’t take all night.

I pull my gaze from the beach and glance down the corridor. We pass room 15 then room 14, and I realize we’re getting closer.

“Do you have a preference of rooms?”

I slide my eyes over to him, and with a smile, I ask, “Am I allowed to pick after we see the views?”

“What!” His eyes dance with humor and he narrows them as a grin spreads across his lips. Suddenly the air between us sparks and the game is on.

In a flash, he drops my bags and takes off down the hallway with me at his heels. Sliding the key into the lock on room 12, he pushes the door open and I duck under his arm and inspect the room. It’s completely breathtaking and without a doubt it has the same exact view as room 11, but it doesn’t matter. We have to look at them both. I reach up and tug room 11’s key out his hand and dart out into the hall to unlock the next door. He’s yelling behind me, but I heave the door open and smile when I see that there’s no palm tree obstructing the view of the ocean from this room.

“Mine!” I yell, right as Jude screams, “This one’s mine!”

We erupt in laughter, but I can’t let him win. I run over and jump up onto the bed like a ten-year-old. “Sorry, Jude, but the room has been claimed!”

He waggles his eyebrows seductively and throws his leather jacket onto one of the nearby desk chairs. “Oh, really? Cause it looks like I’ve already put my jacket down.” He shrugs his arms and cocks his brow, as if to say ‘tough luck, kid’.

My arms cross over my chest and I stand a little taller. “Don’t worry, I’ll call room service and explain the situation. I’m sure they can hang up your jacket in room 12 because that’s your room.”

“Is that so, Whitlock?” His sharp blue eyes dare me to keep playing the game, and it’s an offer I can’t refuse.

My hip juts out to the side. “Looks like it, Anderson,” I spit with all of the sass I wish I actually possessed.


He takes a predatory step forward and my body starts to tremble. All at once the memories from the dance floor flood my brain and I know I’m in over my head. This is Jude’s game and his rules. He takes another step and then another, and already my heart is beating a wild rhythm.

“Sir. Sir?” A voice calls from the hallway. A moment later, a young bellboy arrives outside of the door holding our bags and eyeing us suspiciously. Our race down the hallway surely caused a commotion.

Jude turns around with a frustrated sigh, not happy about being interrupted, but when he sees the bell boy holding our bags, his demeanor relaxes. He walks with confident strides to retrieve our luggage and tip the boy.

As he slips his wallet out of his back pocket, he shakes his head regretfully, but I can tell he’s still being playful.

“Sorry about that.” He angles his head back to me, “my friend and I were racing to see who could get to our rooms first. She’s a bad influence on me.” A loud chuckle escapes me and I clap my hands over my mouth. As Jude hands over some cash, the bellboy glances fleetingly up at me standing on the bed and his face reddens. Jude follows his glance with a wicked grin.

He tisks, shaking his head admonishingly. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll punish her for hopping up on the bed like that.” I think the bell boy’s eyes almost bulge out of his head at Jude’s joke, but then he turns on his heels and hurries down the hall before Jude can assure him that he’s kidding. Poor kid.