I pull back sharply, taken aback by my body’s undeniable reaction to her ample curves. “Hopefully, you’ll land a permanent job while working for me,” I manage to say. “But if not, you’ll have a fun adventure and get to load up your Instagram with tons more photos to impress that employment agency.”
Amy palms her cheeks looking flushed and glorious. Again, she thanks me profusely. And to my shock, as she does, I feel the urge to lean in and kiss her.
I pivot slightly and place my clasped hands in front of me, in case the tingles zapping my dick turn into a hard-on. “No need to thank me,” I say, sounding remarkably calm. “I’m not the one who’s going to pay your salary, remember? Which, by the way, will almost certainly be total shit.”
“I’d do the job for free!” Amy sings out, before doing a little shimmy that makes my tingling dick begin to thicken. Shit.
“Why don’t you stay at my place that week?” I say, even though I probably shouldn’t. “I’ve got a guest room. Why not?” You know why not, my brain answers. Shut the fuck up, My hard-on replies.
Amy thanks me again, just as a car horn blares in passing.
“Oh, that was Logan!” Amy says, as Logan’s car turns into the nearby restaurant parking lot. We pick up our pace and arrive in the parking lot as Logan is parking his car in a spot.
“Logan’s always had the best parking karma,” Amy murmurs.
“It’s bigger than that. Logan’s got an uncanny knack for being at the right place at the right time.”
“So true.”
A moment later, Logan and his two passengers—his fiancée, Kennedy, and that annoying groomsman, Luke—are approaching Amy and me on foot.
“What the fuck, Colin?” Logan shouts, holding up his phone, as he walks—and as he gets closer, I make out the cast photo I posted earlier today on his screen. “When were you planning to tell me you’ve been cast in a fucking Seth Rockford flick?” Without waiting for my reply, Logan pulls me into an enthusiastic hug and congratulates me.
“Don’t be insulted I didn’t tell you,” I mutter. “I didn’t tell anyone.”
It’s a lie. I told Dax and Fish, pretty early on. Partly, because I tell them everything. But also in the context of our band talking about our then-upcoming tour schedule. Fish had revealed he wanted to take some time off from touring to produce his new girlfriend’s upcoming album, so Dax dropped the bomb he also wanted to take his foot off the gas for a bit to spend more time with his wife and young son. And so, in the context of that conversation, I told my fellow Goats about the movie role I’d been offered and was dying to accept.
Before that conversation, however, I’d already told my personal mentor, Ryan Morgan—Dax’s older brother—about the movie role. But only because I’ve always relied on Ryan, more than anyone else, to help me figure out my life’s biggest decisions.
After Logan releases me, the other people in the group congratulate me on the movie. Until, eventually, our group begins walking toward the restaurant again.
“Speaking of the movie . . .” I grin at Amy. “You want to tell everyone the exciting news?”
“Is it for sure, though?” she asks, her green eyes hopeful.
“One hundred percent. Tell the world, dude.”
Amy squeals and excitedly tells the group about her short-term job with me on the movie set, which prompts Kennedy to hug her and Logan to mouth to me, “Thank you.”
Apparently, Logan thinks I offered to help out his little sister, yet again, as a favor to him. But while that was true last time, Logan had nothing to do with my offer to Amy this time. As a matter of fact, I felt inspired to help Amy, on a whim, simply because I was enjoying her company so damned much and thought it might ease my anxiety during a stressful week to have a friendly face along for the ride.
We reach the front door of the restaurant and I open it for everyone to pass, which they do, with Amy hanging back to go last.
“Did you see the look on Luke’s face when I said I’ll be working for you?” Amy whispers excitedly in the doorway. “He looked like a toddler denied a cookie!”
With a happy little evil laugh, Amy enters the restaurant and I follow. But I can’t agree with her assessment. Nope. Luke didn’t look like a toddler denied a cookie a minute ago. On the contrary, he looked to me like a man who just figured out the woman he’d set his sights on is way, way out of his league.
Four
Amy
“No, sadly, none of my scenes will be shot in Hawaii,” Colin says, responding to a question from one of the groomsmen sitting across from us at the table. “My character dies at the one-third mark of the movie, before his unit takes off for combat. So, all my scenes will be shot on a studio lot in Burbank, before the rest of the production heads off to Kuai for three months.”
Everyone within earshot of Colin peppers him with another round of questions about the movie, which he graciously answers. That’s great by me, since it gives me more time to covertly ogle Colin’s lips as he talks. To study his handsome profile, his sexy, tattooed forearms, and tousled, gorgeous hair. All without coming off like the lowkey creeper I am.
I’m sitting to Colin’s right at our long table, while Logan and Kennedy sit to his left, and several members of the wedding party sit across from us. When we first sat down fifteen minutes ago, Logan told everyone the exciting news about Colin’s upcoming movie. And that’s all anyone’s wanted to talk about since.
“How’d you get the part?” one of the groomsmen asks.
“I got lucky,” Colin replies. “Thanks to a modeling campaign I did recently—”
“The one for Calvin Klein?” a bridesmaid interjects.
“Yeah. Thanks to that ad campaign going viral, I got invited to a big Hollywood party, where I met the director of the movie, Gary Flynn. One thing led to another, and my manager got word Gary wanted me to come down and audition for him and his casting director. I went down there, crapping my pants, read a few scenes for them, and two days later, I got word the role was mine.”
Everyone at the table explodes with excitement and another round of questions. But this time, Colin says, “Enough about me. Let’s talk about the wedding. Has anyone started a pool on who’s gonna get the drunkest tomorrow night?”
If he wanted to change the topic quickly, he’s a genius. Instantly, enthusiastic conversation about tomorrow night’s festivities ensues, and then continues until the waitress appears to take everyone’s food orders.
When it’s our turn to order, Colin and I give the waitress our information, at which point Colin shocks me by leaning into my shoulder, bumping me playfully, and asking, “Do you not drink alcohol, or are you simply not drinking tonight?” He points at my water glass.
“Oh, I drink, but not when I’m driving. I’ll drink like a fish tomorrow night. In fact, don’t tell anyone, but I’d advise you to put all your money on me in that pool.”
Colin laughs at my silly joke, the same way he’s laughed at all my jokes tonight. And I can’t deny, each and every time I hear Colin’s adorable, heartfelt laughter, especially in reaction to something I’ve said, butterflies—no, fireflies—whoosh into my belly. Wings and lights, as the famous 22 Goats song says.