“Ezra…” He groaned and leaned against the sink.
“What? You said the flirting was okay.”
“Okay isn’t the word I’d use.” His face scrunched up like he was in pain, but his eyes were needy, a heat there that reflected my own.
“I’m just saying, I’m really good at scrubbing backs.” I smiled slyly.
“I bet you are.” He lowered his voice as he shook his head.
“Everyone else went to crash for their pre-sound check naps. No one needs to know if you hang out here a while.” I matched him whisper for whisper.
“And you’d like that? Me hanging out here?”
“Yup. Use my shower.” Use me, I implied with my eyes, holding his gaze. “Or watch TV with me. Whatever. You don’t have to rush away.”
“Don’t you ever sleep?”
“Rarely.” I stretched my arms and back, leaning to one side then the other. “My mom says I was up all night even as a baby. I can go and go. It’s a curse.”
“You need something to wear you out.” He chuckled low.
“Got any suggestions?” I stepped closer.
Wear me out, Duncan. I tried to beam the command into his brain. He licked his lips, eyes darting around like I’d said the thought aloud.
“Run,” he muttered.
“Pardon?” I couldn’t tell whether he was talking to himself or me.
“We could run.” He took deep breaths like he’d already done a couple of miles. “Wear you out. There’s an executive gym on the club level. If I go with you, I can keep you safe, and then you can nap after.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.” Voice tight, he tipped his head back, eyes fluttering shut. I almost felt bad for being such a test to his willpower. Almost.
“Okay. Have it your way. Give me a sec to pull on my running shoes.” I was already in shorts and a T-shirt which would work well enough. “Got yours?”
“Got my what?” Damn. The man really was adorable befuddled, the way he shook his head and quirked his mouth. “Oh, right. Sneakers. Yup. I always pack workout stuff.”
He strode back into the main part of the suite where we’d both dropped our bags near the door, and I took the opportunity to admire his magazine-worthy rear view. I couldn’t help but whistle low.
“I can tell.”
“Ezra.” Half chuckling and half sighing, he pointed at me.
“Yes?” I played innocent.
“A single call, and you could probably have triplet groupies up here. Why are you so intent on getting in my pants all of a sudden? Is it the challenge? People say no to you that rarely?”
How cute that he thought my fascination was so recent. And honestly, I was good with him thinking that. Didn’t need him thinking I’d been pining, so I shrugged. “Maybe you’re simply that hot.”
“Hardly.” He snorted.
“You don’t see it, do you?” I asked as I retrieved my own shoes from my bag.
“See what?” He wrinkled his forehead as he pulled out shorts and sneakers.
“How you could star in one of your dad’s movies?”
“Don’t say that.” His expression shuttered. He yanked off his pants, revealing black boxer briefs, but his clear frustration took the fun out of ogling him changing into shorts.
“Is he truly that bad?” I laced up my shoes.
“A charming, power-hungry genius used to people doing his bidding? Yeah, he pretty much is. When I was little, I didn’t know any better. He never had enough attention to go around, but he was good at swooping in with presents or a trip. I know full well there are plenty of worse parents.”
“Yeah, but there are also way better ones.” I went for a pragmatic tone rather than bragging on my own folks. Dressed for running, we headed to the door, but I kept up the conversation. “And what changed your opinion about Hollywood’s biggest power broker?”
He was quiet for so long, our footfalls the only sound, and I assumed he wasn’t going to answer, but then he spoke right as we reached the elevator. “He wouldn’t let me come home.”
“Oh wow.” My exhale echoed off the walls of the empty corridor.
Duncan waited until we were on the elevator to reply. “I was thirteen, and it was my first year at his alma mater, this elite military prep school, and I hated it. Fucking loathed it. I begged to come home, but my mom was off in Italy and not answering her phone. And Dad was having a hot and heavy affair with the actress who followed Danny’s mom. He said no son of his was a quitter or a cry baby. Said I wouldn’t last twenty-four hours at a real boot camp, so I should just buck up and deal because hundreds of kids would rather be Daryl Lubov’s son. So decided right then and there to act like anything else.”
“Kinda funny how your grand rebellion was making it into the like point three percent of applicants who make it into the naval academy and then the SEALs.”