Over Exposed (30 page)

She knew she should be mature about this but she wanted Greg to know she wasn't just going to wait around for him to have time for her. It hurt too damn much to know he couldn't spend two minutes to pick up the phone and call her.

Sebastian had been here.

Of course, she didn't want to wrap herself around Sebastian and lick the hollow of his throat.

Damn it. Why couldn't she move on?

Because he wouldn't let her. Whenever she thought maybe today was the day he told her he wasn't coming back. And yet here he was again.

The mixed signals should be making her head spin.

“So you wanna tell me why you're really here, Nik?”

Nik's expression went serious. “Because it's time for you to come back. We need to write. I got all this shit in my head and you know I can't get it out on paper without you to write the music.”

Sebastian stiffened beside her and it almost felt like he was struggling to get air into his lungs. Almost like he was having a panic attack.

“I'm not ready to come back. I told you I'd call when I had my head on straight.”

“Or maybe you just found something else you want to do more and you don't want to say anything.”

“That's not it.”

“Then what is it, Baz?” Nik looked confused, and Sabrina felt almost sorry for the guy. He really had no idea what was up with Sebastian. “Are you really gonna throw away a twenty-year friendship over a girl?”

Sabrina's shock must have shown on her face because Nik sneered at her. “Oh, sorry. Didn't he tell you? His breakdown involved a piece of ass who fucked us both over.”

Sebastian practically vibrated beside her but she couldn't tell if it was rage or hurt. She wanted to do something, say something to make this better but she didn't have a clue. She could only hold him closer.

“I think it's time for you to go.” Greg stepped in front of Nik, cutting off his view of Sebastian.

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Although the men seemed evenly matched, the fight must have gone out of Nik. “He knows how to reach me.”

Nik left without a backward glance, while Sebastian continued to breathe so heavily she could hear his every exhale.

When the door closed behind Nik, Sebastian released her, only to lean forward and grab the piano. He bent to rest his head on the lid and, for a second, she was afraid he was going to start banging his forehead against it.

“Baz.”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna talk?”

“No, I really fucking don't.”

Sabrina watched Sebastian, taking in the swollen lip and the eye that was definitely going to be black and blue. She was about to tell him he needed to get some ice when he turned and kissed her.

She had no time to react and, this time, he didn't hold back. He kissed the hell out of her and she let him. Mostly because she knew he was hurting and she cared about him. And yeah, a little because Greg was watching.

When he released her, she sucked in a deep breath, biting her lip as he stalked out of the room.

After a second, she turned to face Greg, knowing he'd watched. He didn't look angry. He looked . . . resigned. And tired. But he didn't say anything. Or move closer.

Finally, she couldn't stand the silence. “When did you get back?”

“Twenty minutes ago.”

“And how did things go?”

“Things went.” His tone held a distinct note of finality.

“Oh. Okay.”

She'd never seen him like this. Like he'd been beaten. Maybe a little lost. Too quiet. A silent Greg wasn't the man she knew.

“So I'm sure you're tired.”

He nodded. “I am but I've got two more days of filming.”

“And then you're going back to L.A.”

Amazingly, her voice didn't break when she said that.

His gaze narrowed. “Yeah. I have things I need to take care of.”

“Your company?”

He looked like he was grinding his teeth. “That's one.”

She waited for him to say more, to confide in her, but he only continued to stare. “Do you want to talk about it?”

His terse “No” made her gut clench.

She swore she could feel his walls snapping shut, keeping her out.

And when have you ever really been inside those walls? Sure, the sex has been great but when has he ever indicated that it's been more than sex?

Swallowing down the hurt, she said, “So what do you want?”

“You.”

Yes, she could see that in the intensity of his gaze and the tightness of his jaw. If she looked lower, she'd probably be able to see the proof through his jeans, as well.

“You look like you could use some sleep,” she said truthfully.

“Sleep can wait.”

Her body wanted to give in on the spot, let him bend her over the piano and take her. She could practically feel his hands on her hips as he held her steady for his cock.

Her heart ached because she wanted him to talk to her, to let her in. Lately, it'd seemed all they'd had time for was sex.

And maybe you should've seen the writing on the wall.

She took a deep breath. “I'm not sure I'm willing to wait anymore.”

His eyes narrowed. “And maybe you haven't.”

It took her a second to get his implication. Then her body flushed with heat, even as her heart felt flash-frozen.

“I'm going to leave before—”

“Damn it.” His expression twisted with frustration. “God
damn
it. Bree, I didn't mean—”

“Yes, you did. That's exactly what you meant. We never made rules about this . . . relationship, Greg. You've never made me any promises and I respect that. And it's been fun but I think it's time to walk away.”

She was proud of the fact that her voice sounded steady, even if it hurt her inside to say the words.

“And if I don't want to walk away?”

“Then you're just prolonging the inevitable.”

His jaw clenched even tighter and his voice sounded strangled. “You've been waiting for this, haven't you? For me to say thanks for the good sex and leave. All this time. You've never let me in, have you?”

If he only knew . . . “And isn't that exactly what's going to happen? We both knew one of these days you were going to walk out that door and I'd never see you again. I understood that from the first night we slept together.”

His gaze narrowed. “And is that what you want?”

“It's what
will
happen.”

“And
if
that happens, what then? That's it? You cut me off like this never happened?”

“We both knew this affair had an expiration date. My life is here. Yours isn't. I understand that.”

“Maybe you don't understand things as well as you think you do.”

Maybe not. She only knew that she had to get out of here before she broke down in tears.

With all the strength she could muster, she walked to him and kissed him on the cheek. “And maybe I don't want to play this game anymore.”

She walked out, managing to hold back her tears until she got to her room.

Then the floodgates opened.

*  *

Greg sat in a dark corner of the hotel bar, nursing a 7&7 and barely listening to the music. Tyler had stopped by earlier but Greg growled something at him and he'd wandered off.

“So, you look like you could use a good swift kick in the ass. I thought you took care of everything.”

Without asking, Trudeau slid into the booth across from him, her trusty tablet clutched in one hand.

She looked as adorable as ever, her hair in a ponytail, the blue of her sweater bringing out the blue of her eyes. The only thing out of place was her jeans. She typically wore a skirt and flat boots or shoes that she could switch out for pumps if she needed to handle press or money men on short notice.

“I didn't know you owned a pair of jeans.”

She raised one eyebrow in classic Spock fashion. “And I didn't realize you were that drunk. What do you need me to do?”

Her straightforward statement made him blink. “What do you mean?”

“Tell me what you need me to do.”

“Are you worried you won't have a job tomorrow?”

She gave him a steady look. “No. There are aspects of your business you have no idea how to handle. Now that you and Fred have divided the company, you're going to need me more than ever.”

Damn, this girl was smart. If he were half as smart, he'd be upstairs working his way back into Sabrina's bed and spilling his guts about the major changes happening in his life.

Instead, he was sucking down whiskey and about to get life advice from his assistant.

His very bright, very loyal assistant.

“You're absolutely right. As always. That's why I'm promoting you. You're now the managing director of ManDown Films.”

The unflappable Trudeau's mouth fell open as her eyes rounded and he thought he saw actual tears in the corners of her eyes until she blinked and they were gone.

Then the grin that lit up her face made him smile despite the pain deep in his gut. The one Sabrina had put there by walking away.

And she'd been right. What right did he have to expect her to give up everything for him when he couldn't do it for her?

Yeah, he'd just made the first step toward moving his business to the East Coast, but he'd also just dug himself into a very deep hole financially and career-wise. Hell, his time was about to get even more tight.

Or . . . he'd find the balance he hadn't been able to get in L.A. And that balance had to include Sabrina.

“Oh, my God!” Trudeau squealed like a little girl and practically fell out of the booth as she moved over to his side and wrapped her arms around his neck. She nearly cut off his air supply before she pulled away and jumped back to her feet.

“Oh, my God, I have to call my parents. And my grandparents. And I cannot
wait
to tell my sister. When I left for L.A., she told me I'd be home in a year. I can't wait to rub this in her face. She's such a bitch. Oh, my God, Greg, seriously?”

He laughed. “Well, I couldn't exactly take it back, now, could I? Not when half of Philadelphia just heard you. And to think I was a little worried you wouldn't want it. Seriously, I wouldn't know what to do without you, Tru. But we're not going back to L.A. You know that, right?”

Trudeau rolled her eyes. “I knew that as soon as you said you were filming out here. Hell, with video conferencing, it doesn't matter where we set up shop. And over here, maybe you can do more directing.”

“Yeah, I think I'd like that.”

“And maybe have a private life, too?”

He winced. “Not so sure I'm cut out for one of those.”

Trudeau blinked. “I thought— Shit, never mind. I'm sorry, but I thought . . . you and Sabrina . . .”

“I'm not sure she thinks I'm the right fit for her anymore.”

Trudeau cocked one hip and gave him a look he couldn't mistake for anything other than disbelief.

“Are you kidding me? Have you
seen
the way she looks at you? Or are you blind? She loves you. Don't you love her back? What did you do to her?”

“Why is this automatically my fault? Maybe we just aren't a good fit.” Although he knew that wasn't the problem.
He
was the problem. “Or maybe I'm a prick who thinks everyone should do what I say.”

Trudeau rolled her eyes at him. “Bull. That's not you and you know it. Now, since I don't plan to spend the next six months with you moping around while we're trying to put this business back together, how are you planning to get her back?”

*  *

The picture showed up the day before New Year's Eve.

It had been shoved under the door and she almost didn't open the manila envelope because it looked suspicious. Until she saw the note on the front and recognized the handwriting.

I promised you the SD cards. I made no copies except for this one. I want you to see what I do.

Sighing, she set the envelope on the tiny dining table near the kitchen nook in her room.

Yesterday, she'd scoured the paper for apartments, but still hadn't managed to find one a) she could afford and b) that was close enough to work so she could walk.

But she couldn't stay here much longer. It'd become increasingly obvious that she needed her own space. Being here every minute of every day would be unbearable. She saw reminders of Greg everywhere, even if she hadn't seen him.

He had finally listened to her and stayed away.

Which totally sucked.

And if that wasn't enough, Sebastian seemed to have deserted her as well. Which was unfair of her. He'd thrown himself into scoring Greg's film and had little time for her.

Annabelle and Kate had busy lives and men who took up most of their spare time.

And aren't you just feeling sorry for yourself.

She glanced at the envelope.

Just open the damn thing.

With a huff, she grabbed it, ripped it open, and dumped the contents into her hand. She'd expected the SD card. She hadn't expected the snapshot.

The four-by-six photo fell into her hand and her breath caught when she saw it.

She looked . . . amazing. Sexy, sweet, playful, rumpled. And smiling at the cameraman like she adored him.

Blinking back tears, she tossed the photo on the table and, as it fluttered down, she saw writing on the back.

This is how I see you.

Damn that man. Damn him, damn him, damn—

Someone knocked on her door and she grabbed the photo and stuffed it back into the envelope then stuffed that under a pile of magazines before she opened the door.

“Hey. I was just thinking about you.” Before she'd gotten sidetracked by Greg.

Kate hustled in, a dress bag in her arms. “I hope it was good thoughts, considering I come bearing gifts. Namely, your dress for the party.”