Ruined (Barnes Brothers #4)(34)

Hearing those words on her lips exploded something inside his head and he almost reached for her—again.

But he backed away instead.

“You need to go,” he said carefully. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to put my hands on you again and I won’t stop until you’re under me and moaning my name. By the time I’m done, you won’t even remember anybody else’s.”

Chin lifted mutinously, Marin glared at him. “Nice to know you’re still stuck in that teenage hormone rush, Sebastien. If you ever grow out of it, you’ll make some woman very happy one day.”

He growled and took a step forward.

Marin ignored him as she cut around the island and reached into the purse she’d left there earlier.

“I wanted to bring this out to you—okay, no, I didn’t. JD wanted me to bring it. I told him it was a waste of time and that you’d given up.” She dumped something on the island and it didn’t take more than a second for him to recognize a script.

“Take it back,” he said sourly. “I’m done.”

Marin smiled at him sweetly. “That’s what I told him. You never see anything through when it gets too hard.”

“Marin . . .”

“It’s okay, honey. As you get older—”

He lunged after her and she backed away, eyes widening slightly.

Finally, she was getting it.

He snatched up the script as she turned and walked away. “You forgot something.”

She flipped him off over her shoulder.

“I’d rather f*ck you,” he shouted at her back.

He waited for a response, but apparently she was done.

He looked down at the script and in a fit of temper—mostly self-directed—he hurled it across the room. His home was done in an open-concept design and nothing separated the kitchen from the eating area or the living room. The heavy, bound stack of pages ended up by the aquarium and he continued to glare at it for untold minutes.

It wasn’t until the alarm chimed, letting him know somebody had left the premises that he managed to snap himself out of it.

Swearing, he dragged his hands down his face and then he made himself go over and pick up the script.

When he saw the title, he almost dropped it.

T O R N

He didn’t drop the script, though. He’d throw it away. Maybe burn it in his fire pit.

He might have been able to do it, too.

But he saw the handwritten note next to the title of the script, which was typed in such stark font. By contrast, Marin’s handwriting stood out even more. He knew her writing as well as his own and he knew for a fact that she’d written this note well before their little . . . okay, big argument.

Sebastien,

Read the script. I know you wanted the part before, but it wasn’t right for you. Maybe you don’t want it now, but I can tell this part needs you, and I think you need it. This is your life and it’s time you come back to it. You’re missed, Seb. By a lot of us, and I’m not talking about your fans.We all miss you. Your friends miss you. Your family misses you. I miss you.

I’m playing Marlena and I can’t think of anybody I’d rather have acting as the male lead other than you.

You’re ready for this, Seb.

Read the script.

TTYS,

Marin

He gripped the script tighter, absently smoothing down pages he’d crumpled with his carelessness.

He’d just mail it back to JD. Marin wouldn’t be back out here any time soon—if ever.

He’d mail it back and tell JD he didn’t need a manager anymore.

But that wasn’t what he did.

He went straight into his office and sat down to read.





Chapter Ten




“I’m not going to invest the kind of time I do with you just out of pity. What we have is friendship. Not pity.”

Friends . . . f*ck. The last thing he wanted was to be her friend. But yeah, shit. Whatever. “Fine. So we’re friends.”

She reached out and the light touch of her hand on his arm was enough to set his brain to buzzing. “You need to back away, Marin. The things I want from you are a lot more involved than friendship. My control is shit today. If you keep . . .”

She was more potent than whiskey, sweeter than wine.

And she tempted him. ”If I keep what, Sebastien?”

“Back away, Marin,” he said in warning. “Or . . .”

But she didn’t back away. Instead, when he pressed his mouth to her neck, she tilted her head back and he breathed in the scent of her. Her skin was so soft, so smooth. Under his hands, the narrow span of her ribcage felt fragile, but there was nothing fragile about her. Her fingers dug into his biceps and squeezed, her nails a soft little bite.

He shoved up her skirt, baring her thighs, but it wasn’t enough.

“Back away . . .” What was he doing? Telling her to stop him when this was what he wanted . . . needed? She was what . . . no, who, he wanted, needed. Craved. Burned for . . . yearned for.

Marin pushed her hands into his hair. She tugged, hard. Blinking, he focused on her face.

“Do you see me?” she demanded.

Was she serious? “All the f*cking time.”

***

Another day. Another dream.