Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
The truth was far less titillating than anyone would guess.
Pierce split his time between the studio, volunteer work, his home gym, and hanging out with me. Oh…and he’d visited Mr. Gowan a couple of times for Scrabble games. Enid had joined us once, but she didn’t like board games and she was likely cognizant of giving Mr. G a chance to get to know his long-lost cousin.
No one knew the truth about Mr. G.
Or me.
Those stories never made headlines, and they never would. Mr. G didn’t want the attention, and I certainly didn’t either. It wasn’t a worry because a hint of romance with a beautiful blond actress…that was interesting.
The fact that Pierce and Daphne hadn’t been spotted anywhere other than the red carpet was also fodder for the gossip mill. Baxter fans were getting curious about Pierce’s personal life again. They’d sympathized with him when his mother passed away and were almost indulgently understanding about his rumored string of partners and nonstop partying ways.
But two high-profile appearances with Daphne seemed to indicate something serious was on the horizon. I had to laugh. I mean, I was “the public” and I would have assumed the same thing.
“It’s exhausting to make small talk with someone you barely know all fucking night,” Pierce griped.
“I bet. So…when’s your next date?”
He cast a miffed glance my way. “The Academy Awards.”
“Ooh, la la!”
“Yeah, I’m presenting, so it’s…kind of an honor too.”
“Definitely.”
He removed his arm from around my shoulder to take a sip of hot chocolate, then made a mini production of screwing the lid on with his gaze fixed forward. “I wish it was you.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. “This is nice too.”
Pierce smiled. “Yeah, it is. I really fucking like you, want you, need you.”
My heart did a somersault, a triple flip, and fluttered in my chest like a flock of hummingbirds. I raked my teeth over my bottom lip and did my best to play it cool, but this felt so…momentous. So boyfriend-y.
This was a declaration of heartfelt affection, boyfriend style.
“Same.” I laced our fingers together and squeezed.
We held hands for a while and listened to the waves crashing in the distance.
After a few minutes, Pierce kissed my hand and kicked sand on my shoes.
I furrowed my brow and growled, which he seemed to find hilarious. I shoved his arm, pushing him sideways. Pierce dragged me with him, rolling over till he was on top. The blanket tangled between us and did nothing to shield me from the cold sand. I didn’t care, and that was more shocking than I could ever communicate. But being in Pierce’s arms, under him, surrounded by him was the best kind of distraction.
He pinned my hands next to my head and grinned down at me, his blue eyes alight with mischief. I pushed at his muscular chest like a mouse swatting a lion. Pierce dove into the sand dramatically as if he were being catapulted out of a plane. He rolled over and over, and sprang to his feet near the shoreline, dusted his hands off, and adjusted an imaginary tie before striding toward me a la Baxter.
It was goofy and over-the-top, and I couldn’t stop laughing. Just when I sobered up, he dropped to his knees beside me, captured my face in his strong hands and kissed me till I saw stars. Not one or two, but a whole constellation.
We parted with sappy smiles, then folded the blanket, gathered the thermos and our helmets, and trudged hand in hand to his motorcycle.
Life was strange but good. And I knew better than to question this kind of luck.
13
PIERCE
“Pierce! Pierce! Look this way!”
“Over here, Pierce!”
Cameras flashed, flooding my vision with white lights that left a halo in my periphery. It was annoying, not to mention headache inducing, but I grinned like a champ. This was just part of the job.
“What are you wearing tonight, Pierce?”
Seriously?
I ignored that reporter and kept walking, my pace a few feet in front of my date. That was per Janet’s instruction. Daphne didn’t have red-carpet experience and tended to answer every question thrown our way, and this wasn’t the venue to feed gossip mongers. This was the big show, baby. A sophisticated, polished, and elegant affair with an impressive history.
I’d always loved this. Once upon a time, I’d lived for it.
When I was a kid, the Academy Awards were a huge TV highlight for my mom and me. The rest of our family had the Super Bowl, we had this.
I took my passion for movies a bit more seriously than she did, though. I’d made a point to watch every film nominated in as many categories as possible, so on the big day, those wins and losses meant something to me. The year A Beautiful Mind won, I’d wanted to study math. The year Gladiator won, I’d wanted to jump into battle.