Текст книги "Perfectly Imperfect"

Автор книги: Harper Sloan

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

“WILLOW?” KANE CALLS OUT ACROSS the parking lot that separates the school’s main building from the makeshift camp of trailers set around the front parking area.

I had been making my way to Kirby’s trailer to grab her small kit so she could touch up some of the shine on the actors behind the camera for the final shot of the day. She had run out of powder during the last take, and unfortunately, Grant left their backup kit behind.

“Yeah?” I ask, turning from the door of the makeup trailer. “Aren’t you supposed to be directing, Mr. Masters?” I smart.

He jogs over and smiles down at me. Even standing two steps off the ground, he’s still taller than I am. “That’s the beauty of being in charge. I call the shots.”

Hmm. His tone makes me think we aren’t just talking about things on set. Going for broke, I ask, “Do you have an affliction for being in charge in all aspects?”

His eyes crinkle, and his smile widens. “Oh, Willow, I think you’ll find that I can be flexible when needed, but if I remember correctly, you enjoy when I call the shots.”

To anyone walking by, one would think we were just discussing the day's filming, but I know exactly to what he’s eluding. I give him a small smile even though I can feel my cheeks heat as a blush warms my skin. “Perhaps.”

He laughs, the low and gritty rumble vibrating from his chest. “We’re almost done today,” he states.

“That we are. It’s been a long day. I’m sure you’re tired.”

He steps closer, up one step so our bodies almost touch. One hand comes up to whisper against my cheek. “Have dinner with me?”

“Dinner? It’s almost nine o’clock at night, Kane.”

“Okay. Look, I’ll be honest here, the meal is an excuse, but I would love to show you around the rest of the filming locations we have set up for the week. I asked catering to have something light prepared for us, and I figured we could enjoy a glass of wine and some conversation before you head back to the house for the night.”

“We have an early day tomorrow, Kane.”

He leans in, smile widening. “I know—I believe I was the one who handed you tomorrow's call sheet requests to hand out.”

“Wine and conversation?”

He nods. “I just want to get to know you better, Willow. Today was a heavy day of emotional filming, and I can tell it affected you. It will be nice to relax and have someone to talk about the film with who seems to get how important this is to me.”

“All right, Mr. Director. You call the shots.” I laugh. “Wine and conversation sounds good to me.” It actually sounds terrifying considering my earlier promise to Kirby to let him in, but I can’t deny the buzz of excitement I feel at the thought of spending some time with him one on one.

“It’s a date,” he utters, leaning down and placing a light caress against my lips with his own.

When he turns and walks back toward the building, my hand comes up to press against my lips. “A date,” I whisper against my fingers. “Holy crap.”

The rest of filming went by in a blur. I could hardly focus on the actors, Alessandra and Logan—Allison and Mark—as they filmed one of the final scenes of the whole movie. It was weird, seeing things filmed in weird orders, but Kane had told me earlier in the day that it was just the way things were done in order to best utilize the time they had. Because the school was only available to them for the week, they had to break things up and film all the scenes that would take place at the school location in one sweep of well-planned filming.

You would never know that what we were witnessing wasn’t real life. Alessandra and Logan were brilliantly talented, their chemistry off the charts, but bottom line—their performances were breathtakingly beautiful.

Kirby left shortly after Kane had wrapped filming for the day. She gave me a wink across the room as her and Grant packed up their gear and headed to the trailer to clean up and prepare for the morning. I had told her when I returned from grabbing her stuff earlier that Kane would be taking me home later. She didn’t ask questions, just gave me a smile and continued to powder the nose of one of the extras.

Now, I’m waiting in Kane’s trailer for him to make sure the rest of the crew closes the set before heading off. I take a hearty gulp from the glass of wine Kane poured me before walking out the door ten minutes earlier with the promise of returning quickly.

Fortitude of strength in the form of liquid courage.

I reach out to the bottle of wine chilling on the table and refill my already empty glass. Looking around, I notice how homey it looks for being his temporary home away from home.

It’s not large, but it’s inviting. There’s a small kitchen area; however, after peeking in the fridge, it’s clear he’s never used it. Behind the kitchen is a doorway that leads into a bedroom. I looked, but quickly closed the door when I saw some of his shoes neatly lined in the corner. All of Kirby’s earlier comments came rushing back. I slammed the door so hard that I startled myself when the noise rang out around me. The other side is a worn couch and television set up. And the middle of the room, where I’ve determined is the safest spot to be, holds a small four-person table and chairs.

Middle ground. Away from the bed … and those shoes. Not on the couch where things would feel a little too intimate for me. Safe.

Ugh. There’s that word again. I’m starting to hate that word.

I look over at the couch again. It would be safer than the bed, but not something I would have picked because it wasn’t the stupid safe choice.

Screw it.

Grabbing the bucket holding the wine and ice in one hand and my glass in the other, I walk over to the couch and place the bucket on the coffee table. Then I spend a ridiculous amount of time trying to find a position I can feel good about. When I relax and lean back, I feel like my pants are too tight and my gut has some sort of neon sign saying ‘hey, look at me.’ Scooting to the edge makes me look about as nervous as I feel.

Dang it.

Finally, after draining my second glass, I settle on the couch and make a mental note to keep my back straight so my pants don’t get so tight around my middle.

I was just about to reach out and refill my glass—again—when the door clicks and Kane climbs in. His eyes roam from the kitchen to the table, and when he sees that I’m settled on the couch, his eyes go soft. Clearly, he thought I would have picked the table too.

“Get started without me?” he asks with a nod to the bottle in my hand.

“Hey, you’re the one who poured the first glass,” I tell him, a little too loudly, and then—to my horror– I giggle.

Giggle.

I don’t giggle.

He shakes his head, and his smile grows slightly.

“You make me feel so weird.” Uh. Hello? Filter … did you decide to just take a hike and leave me?

He laughs softly but doesn’t move toward me.

“Like really weird.”

“Good weird?” he questions, that darn smile not dimming at all.

“Even your teeth are handsome.” His left brow arches. My eyes follow the movement and all thoughts about his impeccable teeth are abandoned. “Do you pluck your eyebrows?” God, Willow, shut up.

“No, Willow.”

“Well, they’re really nice eyebrows.”

“Thank you.” He laughs. He looks at the bottle, over halfway empty, and then back at my face. “Are you drunk?”

“I didn’t think so five minutes ago, but I think I’m well past tipsy.”

He lets out a low, but deep, laugh and finally moves toward me. “Let’s get some of that food you didn’t think we would need.”

I follow his movements when he walks over to the table and leans down to collect a cooler placed near the back wall. My eyes move down from his face, and I watch the fabric of his black tee shirt pull against his muscles. His forearms flex when he lifts the cooler, and before he turns, I note how good his butt looks in his denim jeans.

“Is it hot in here?” I ask and lean back to fan my face. “It feels hot.”

“It’s not hot, Willow,” he responds, bringing the cooler over and sitting next to me on the couch.

Right next to me.

Not a few spaces down to leave plenty of space between us. Nope, right next to me, so close that his thick thigh presses against mine. The heat his touch brings feels like a scorching burn through the fabric of our pants.

“Hey,” he says, his hypnotic voice soft like smooth velvet.

“Hi,” I squeak.

“Are you nervous?”

I nod. “Uh, clearly. I just sucked back the majority of this bottle trying to calm myself down.”

His laugh is low. His eyes are shining brightly. “What makes you so nervous around me?” He turns his attention to the cooler and pulls out some grapes and cheese slices.

Pulling a plate from inside, he arranges a few slices before passing it over to me. I look at the plate as if it’s a snake about to bite me. I hate eating in front of people. I always wonder if they can hear each bite and then swallow as it settles in my stomach.

Reaching out, I take the offering and pick up one of the grapes, plopping it in my mouth and chewing, not taking my eyes from his.

“Willow, talk to me.”

I grab a slice of the cheese and swallow it down before I speak. “You’re really intimidating.”

His brow furrows. He doesn’t speak, but nods, waiting for me to continue.

“And … okay, well, you make me feel things that I have no idea how to process.”

He nods. “Yeah, Willow, likewise.”

“What?”

“Honesty, right?” he asks and waits for my confirmation before continuing. “A few years ago, I was at a charity function in New York for one of the local hospitals. They were opening a new cancer treatment center, and Kane Entertainment was one of the majority donors. That, Willow, was the first time in my life I felt something burn my senses into awareness. I couldn’t understand it. The spark against my skin, the tingles down my spine—none of it made sense. It wasn’t until about an hour into the event that I found out why … or I should say who had caused it.”

“What?” I gasp, knowing exactly what event to which he was referring.

He doesn’t speak, but when my eyes widen, he nods, letting out a soft laugh.

“Yeah. You. I didn’t know anything about you. I went to leave the table as soon as dinner was over, but that was when you stood from your table and left with someone else. I brushed it off because it was clear that you were spoken for, but I didn’t feel it again until that day at Buchanan’s firm. Thirty-five years and not once has someone made me feel like that, Willow. I still knew nothing about you, but there was no way I was going to ignore what my body was telling me. It confused the hell out of me. I felt protective of you. A stranger to me in every sense of the word, but it wasn’t just that foreign protectiveness that confused me. I felt as if I had finally found something I hadn’t even realized I had been searching for.”

“But … Jesus, Kane, I was a mess.”

“No, Willow, you weren’t.”

I look down at my now empty plate before leaning forward and placing it on the table. The buzz I had felt earlier ebbed, and I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with getting something in my stomach and everything to do with the shock his words caused.

“That day …” I pause, looking down at my hands. “Kane, I was without a doubt a mess that day. Emotional and a ball of nerves because I was having to deal with my jerk of an ex and my sister—two people who loved to see me suffer.”

“I remember, Willow, but I also remember seeing someone who, even though she was suffering through something hard, pushed herself through it.”

“I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree. I was there, Kane. Sprawled on the floor and seconds away from breaking.”

“I told you before that your eyes are like a window to your thoughts, Willow. I didn’t have to know you to be able to see the strength in those beautiful eyes. You just hadn’t realized it yet.”

I shake my head.

“Yeah,” he continues softly.

“You—” I start but have no clue what to say. He’s right, but he’s also wrong.

“Tell me, what did you feel when I helped you up that day?”

My skin heats when I think back to how that day played out.

“You were stuck in a situation I have no doubt was hard, Willow. I know enough from watching those two around you that it was painful. But when we touched … you forgot it all, didn’t you?”

I take a deep breath and nod. I hadn’t looked at it that way. I had always looked back on that day with great humiliation because he had witnessed so much of the torment I had lived with for too long.

“You looked at me, and when you forgot what was happening around you, that is when I got a glimpse of the strong woman you are. You forgot to be scared. You forgot you were hurting. You didn’t know it then, and hell, you might not realize it now because it took me a while to place it, but when we touched … your body recognized the bond we share.”

“Maybe I was just star struck?”

“No, Willow … I live that daily, women who are enamored by my celebrity status don’t come to life with one touch. They act like savage animals, but you, Willow, you tried to get away from me even though I know damn well you felt the same pull I did.”

“Kane,” I start but again can’t find the right words. It’s as if they’re all just floating around in my head, unable to form a coherent thought.

“Honesty, Willow. With me and with yourself.”

“How can you possibly say you were attracted to someone like me?”

His eyes flash. The crystal blue darkening and his full lips thin. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Talk down your beauty.”

I laugh, the sound coming out shrill and almost animalistic. “You have no idea what my life was like leading up to this moment. When I saw you the first time, I couldn’t see one appealing thing about myself. It’s been a momentous struggle to get to the point I am at now, and I still struggle. But I also know the type of woman you have been linked to in the past, Kane, and they are nothing like me.”

He sighs deeply, looking away, and his jaw ticks as he measures his response.

“Even now, after working as hard as I could, I still don’t see it.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to show you.”

My eyes widen wondering what he’s going to do next.

“Christ, Willow, I’m not going to attack you.”

“I think it’s safe to say that even though I’m here, ready to take the steps toward something unknown, I’m still scared. I hate that I am, I do, but I don’t know how to flip that switch and turn it off.”

He had just lifted his wine glass to his lips when I started speaking. His eyes don’t leave mine as he takes a sip. Lowering the glass, he sets it on the table and takes one of my hands in his. The warmth of his skin against mine seeps into my chilled fingers, and a feeling of peace settles inside me when just seconds before my senses were fighting in overdrive.

Shifting, he moves so his face is closer, his breath dancing on my face, as he takes deep, calm, and measured breaths. “Trust me,” he whispers. “Trust what you feel when you’re around me. I meant what I told you yesterday, Willow. I just want a chance. A chance to prove what I feel is something genuine. Give me a chance to show you why I’m so bewitched. So I’m asking you, are you ready to let go and trust my lead?”

“What do you want from me?”

“I just want you.”

My grip tightens around his hold.

“Willow,” he says tenderly. “Talk to me.”

Pulling my body away slightly, I lean back against the couch again and close my eyes. “You have no idea what you’re asking of me.”

“Then tell me.”

I take a lungful of air until I feel the burn in my chest, letting it out slowly. “After my mother’s death, I floundered through depression until I became someone I didn’t even recognize anymore. I lived through a verbally abusive marriage for four long years because I thought that was all I was worth. I was weak, Kane. Heck, I wasn’t just weak—I was living and breathing, but felt no life. I put up with so much—from Brad, my ex, my own family—and I let it define who I was. Since the end of my marriage, I’ve worked so hard to become stronger, to believe my own worth, but it’s moments like this when I have a hard time believing that I shouldn’t run. I don’t even know if I can be who you want me to be. I feel it, everything that you said, but I’m so scared, Kane. Scared of what you make me feel, but I’m scared to trust that hope you seem to believe in so strongly.”

He leans forward and places his glass on the table. I follow his movements so I was a second behind him when he shifted again and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his embrace. My back settles against his hard chest and my head rests against his shoulder. I’m stiff for just a second before I allow myself to relax. He notices instantly when I open myself up to his touch. His head drops, and his forehead lands softly on my shoulder. His arms, wrapped tightly around me, leave his hands gripping my biceps lightly before I feel his thumbs rubbing soothing circles.

“I want you.” He breathes against my skin, turning his head so his lips move against the skin on my neck. “God, Willow, do I want you. You’re stronger than you realize, but until you see what I see, just lean on me and let me be strong enough for both of us.”

I don’t allow myself to overthink. It’s time to believe in hope. It’s time for me to believe I’m worth something. It’s time to give myself to someone blindly and trust.

“Okay.” I sigh, and the second that one word leaves my lips, I feel his relief seep into my skin. I actually believe at that moment this remarkable man means every word he’s promising.

AFTER THE HEAVINESS OF OUR chat, we stuck to safer topics. Kane told me about his childhood and his parents, whom he clearly respected deeply. Their relationship had always been something he wanted for himself, but because of his career, he had never been able to find someone who sincerely wanted him for him. He had all but given up on that dream. I could tell he wanted to say more, but he changed the subject to his brothers.

The way he spoke of Kole, it was obvious they’re close. Even with them both busy with demanding careers, they have a bond that is clear with the fondness in which he speaks of him.

It wasn’t until his comments about Kyle, the oldest Masters brother, that a different picture was painted. The fondness was gone, and in its place was a bitterness he visibly struggled with in order to say something positive about him. I don’t press him about it. When he’s ready, it’s something he can tell me.

I tell him about my mom, the accident, and what it was like to lose her. He nods and offers his support while I talk about one of the hardest times in my life. Listening to him talk and open up about his life gave me the confidence I needed to strip away the lingering fear and let him in. I opened up about my marriage more, and by the end, he knew everything there was to know about my past.

“What about Mia?” I ask as we’re collecting the trash and cleaning up his trailer before he takes me back to the house.

He hesitates slightly but then quickly masks his features.

“Kane?”

Hesitation is a dangerous thing. It hints that something is hiding when you take that pause.

Trust him, Willow.

“Mia’s been my best friend since we were maybe fifteen. She’s the sister I never had and I would do just about anything for her.”

Well. Okay.

“Yeah?”

He stops his task. The cooler drops from his grasp and hits the table harshly. The calm I’m so used to seeing in Kane is nowhere to be found. My mind starts to doubt everything I’ve felt, but as quickly as the thought pops into my head, I beat it down. No. I’m not going to allow my mind to overcome what has been such a powerful night between us. I’m not going to let myself ruin this before it even starts.

“This is when I’m going to ask you to trust me with that blind faith, Willow. Trust me when I tell you that Mia is just a friend and leave it at that.”

His eyes scorch their pleading gaze into mine. Searching and begging me with the force of his stare. Beseeching without words to believe in him and the fragile relationship we’ve started to build.

“Okay, Kane.”

His shoulders drop, and I realize just how tightly he had been holding his body while he waited for my assurance. While he waited for me to give him my trust completely knowing how much that gesture of blind faith means to me. If I hadn’t witnessed him sag with relief, I might have doubts. The fact I would allow him to keep something obviously troublesome enough that he is visibly struggling with the enormity of it is an immense relief to him. But this man is holding something back, and I have a feeling he wishes he could tell me.

“I promise, Willow, I promise I will tell you everything, but right now … right now, I can’t. Too many people’s lives are going to be affected, and I gave my word. My word, you’ll find, means everything to me. I’m giving it to you and with that promise, know that I care too much about you already that keeping anything from you isn’t something I’m doing lightly.”

I walk over to him. I wrap my arms around his torso and press my cheek into his chest. His heart beats frantically under my ear as his strong arms come around me. It isn’t lost on me that when I would normally tuck my tail and run as fast as I could away from him and the uncertainty of his words, that instead … instead, I run to him. For the first time since this dreamlike reality started to be my life … I’m the one who initiated things and it was me giving him the strength this time.