Steal (Seaside Pictures 3)

I refused to let him get to me.

With a sigh I turned onto my side and stared out the window imagining a different time a different place, where he was by my side — and promised to never leave.

That and the way his hands ran down my skin like he was getting ready to worship me the way he used to.

Only his face hadn’t been filled with wonder — disgust was more like it.

I clung to the anger like a blanket. It was the only way to sleep, the only way I was able to close my eyes and pray the sickness in my chest away.

Anger forced me to focus on doing my job and getting as far away from my past as possible.

Weakness would just make me sad.

It would make me that — weak;

And I knew where that road led.

It led me directly back to all the things that turned me down that road in the first place.

Not being good enough.

Pretty enough.

Funny enough.

Weakness led me to a false sense of strength.

And my number one weakness had always been Will Sutherland.

It was possible — to give so much of your heart and soul to a person that you lost who you were.

I became a different person with him — a person I thought I needed to be in order to compete in our world. A person our world told me I had no choice but to become in order to stay relevant.

I punched my pillow one last time and attempted to sleep.

Two hours later, when sleep still wouldn’t come, I padded my way into the kitchen and made coffee, then laid my head against the couch and thought about the way his lips felt on my ear.

Inches from my neck.

Breaths from my body.

I ached for him in ways I never knew existed.

And I relished in the ache just like I relished in the anger, because at least that meant it had happened, and at least that meant I knew he was a bad choice I wasn’t willing to make again.

A weakness that wouldn’t just hurt me.

But kill me.

Sometime around one in the morning when the clock on the microwave blinked at me with an intensity that started a pulsing headache to form — I stumbled over to the couch and face planted — the last thought in my head was of the Sutherland Sunset — and how it had once been my anchor until it turned into my hell.

What a joke.

What a cruel joke.

“You made coffee.” Will’s smooth voice interrupted what had been a completely dreamless sleep.

I didn’t have the energy to respond with anything other than a grunt.

“Still not a morning person,” he commented. His footsteps might as well be sledgehammers drilling into the wood floor.

“Why?” I croaked.

The walking stopped. Lights flicked on. I shivered and cursed him to Hell as he poked his head over the couch and had the audacity to smile. “Why what?”

My eyes narrowed. “Talking.”

“Why talking?” He took a sip out of the blue mug I’d been drinking out of earlier that morning; he must have reheated the coffee. “Still really eloquent in the morning I see.” Another annoying sip. The terrorist didn’t even offer me any! Just kept loudly sipping while staring at me with a stupid ass grin on his face like it was a joy to be awake at… wait, what time was it?

I jolted to a sitting position, my pounding headache still wasn’t gone, in fact it was worse, probably brought on by Will’s cheerful demeanor and loud walking. “What time is it?”

“You have twenty minutes until you’re expected on set.” His voice was calm behind me, warm. If I closed my eyes I could almost imagine his body was about to wrap around me like a blanket, I’d tuck my feet under my body and rest my head on his shoulder, we’d share a cup of coffee like we used to and watch the news before work.

It took us one date to become inseparable.

Our trailers side by side.

Cohabitating.

Finishing sentences.

Eating off each other’s plates.

Sharing inside jokes.

Not to mention, Will had been my first.

I shivered as his footsteps moved away from me taking his body right along with them.

That was the past.

It needed to stay there.

With a sigh, I shot up to my feet and started making my way back to my room.

I only made it about one foot before Will started cursing.

Panicked, I froze and then turned around. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes narrowed over the rim of the blue cup, “I’m just trying to decide if you’re doing it on purpose.”

“Doing what?” Okay now I was getting annoyed. And the man wouldn’t stop slurping his coffee as though he didn’t know how to sip like a grown up!

He shrugged one of his shoulders. “Wearing no clothes.”

I pressed my hands to my bare stomach and looked down. I was wearing a white tank top, my hands lowered with my gaze.

And black lacy underwear.

I’d been too irritated last night to put on sweats.

“Won’t happen again,” I mumbled.

“Don’t let me cramp you style. Hell, you could walk around naked, and I promise it won’t have any effect on me whatsoever.” His voice was cold, detached. “Do whatever makes you comfortable, Angelica. After all, the more comfortable you are, the better your behavior will be.”

“Why.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Why do you treat me like I’m a child?”

“Probably because the day I signed on to be your agent was also the day I signed on to be your babysitter. Prove you aren’t a child, and I’ll stop treating you like one.”

My hands burned as I clenched my fists.

The desire to flip him off was so strong I had to dig my nails into my palm.

“I’ll be ready in five.”

He whistled. “Minutes?”

“Start the car,” I called behind me as I raced into my room. He wanted an adult? Two could play that game.

I’d been an adult longer than he had, after all.

I was working when he was still learning how to ride a freaking bike.

I was cleaning up my mom’s puke before he even knew what drug awareness was.

I was earning six figures before middle school.

A child?

Oh, there was definitely a child in that house.

But it wasn’t me.

I COULDN’T HELP it. I tried I even did that old trick where you look in the mirror and talk to yourself as if you’re two separate people. Just. Play nice. I could be nice. I spoon fed celebrities on a daily basis. It was my job to kiss ass.

I just didn’t want to kiss hers.

Because for some reason, being nice somehow felt like she’d won like she was getting in and the last thing I needed was to give her a foothold in any area of my life.

So anger was all I had.

Rudeness was what I clung to.

And I hated myself for it because that wasn’t me, I’d never been that guy, hell maybe she’d turned me into that guy. The one that literally didn’t give a shit if she lived or died.

No that wasn’t true.

I’d always cared.

Too much.

That was the problem.

True to her word, Angelica had gotten ready in five minutes. She slid on her giant black sunglasses and looked ready to take on the world better than most girls who needed at least an hour to look presentable.

Her good looks had always been a part of the attraction, her bow shaped lips and cat eyes gave her an exotic look all the while making her look like she always knew some sort of secret that you weren’t privy to yet.

She walked around like she knew something you didn’t and when she talked to you, you felt genuinely better about yourself for the simple fact that she was speaking.

To you.

I gave my head a shake and watched while she ran her lines with Lincoln.

“Quiet on the set!” One of the PAs yelled.

I grabbed a seat and one of the headsets so I could listen to the lines.

Lincoln was standing in front of the ocean, hands shoved in his pockets while she approached.

“It won’t ever work you know.”

“What won’t?” She asked in that small voice of hers.

“Breaking them up.” He shrugged. “They love each other too much, and you’ll lose everything you can’t afford to lose.”