Taming Hollywood's Baddest Boy - Max Monroe Page 0,66
wrong, but it feels like there is a little more to it than just your boss wanting me to read the screenplay because she thought I’d be good for the part.”
“Well…” Billie goes quiet for a long minute.
“Well…?” I ask, opening my eyes and blinking against the darkness inside our tent until I can see her face clearly.
“You’re not completely wrong…”
I quirk a brow, and she digs her teeth into her bottom lip as she tilts her head to the side a bit and locks her eyes with mine.
“After I recommended you for the part and Serena thought it was a brilliant idea…I kind of…sort of…maybe told her that I knew you…”
“What?” A shocked laugh bursts from my lungs. “You told her you knew me?”
Billie sighs long and deep. “I swear I’m not generally a liar or someone who stretches the truth. But fucking ass-kissing Charles is making my life a living hell, and I just kind of said it without even thinking.”
“Who is ass-kissing Charles?”
“My archnemesis at work,” she answers, but her eyes turn uncertain as they search mine. “We’re both vying for the same job—a mentorship with Serena Koontz.”
“I see.”
“Are you mad?” she asks, her voice so quiet, I almost didn’t hear it.
Am I mad? I probably should be.
In a roundabout way, I guess I could feel like I’ve become some kind of pawn in her Hollywood career games. But with her inside my arms and her soft, vulnerable eyes staring into mine, I can’t muster a single negative emotion about her.
Obviously, she came here to talk me into doing that movie, but deep down, I know that whatever is happening between us wasn’t something she planned. It just happened.
At least I think so.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” she begs on a whisper.
“I probably should be,” I respond, and uncertainty makes her eyes bounce around my face. Fuck, I don’t want her to be insecure. I don’t want her to be anything but confident and strong. “But no,” I don’t hesitate to add. “I’m not mad. If anything, I think I admire you more.”
“Admire me more?” A shocked giggle jumps from her lips. “What the hell?”
“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” I retort. “I mean, it takes some balls to bite off more than you can chew but still not give up.”
“What can I say?” Billie just shrugs, a little smile on her lips. “I have big, huge balls.”
“Now, I know that’s not true,” I contest with a wink, and she smiles.
“Metaphorically speaking, that is.”
I laugh.
“I also think,” she starts to add, “the fact that my momma always told me I would end up working in Hollywood has something to do with me never giving up…” She pauses with a secret smile on her lips. “Even if that means going to crazy extremes, like tracking someone down in Alaska.”
“And sticking around when they ask you to leave,” I add with a smirk.
She rolls her eyes.
“But…if it makes you feel any better…I’m happy you’re here now.”
She smiles at me, but it’s not a big smile or a secret smile, it’s an open smile, one that makes me feel like I’m seeing her heart too. “Me too.”
God. Her eyes. I could lose myself completely inside of them.
I press a tender kiss to her lips, letting my mouth linger against hers for just a moment, before pulling away and pressing another one to her forehead and adjusting her a bit in my arms.
I don’t know what it is about Billie, but everything she does—everything she is—makes me feel oddly proud and protective. I want to cheer her on but shield her from any kind of danger or pain at the same time.
But I know to my core she doesn’t need to be shielded from pain.
Billie is strong. What she’s already told me about her past is evidence of that.
“Can I ask you another question?”
She nods her head.
“How did your parents die?”
When she doesn’t respond right away, I add, “If you don’t want to tell me, I understand. I was just curious.”
“It’s okay,” she says, her voice small. “I was nine when they died, and you’d think, at twenty-four, it’d be easier to talk about it, but it’s still hard. I’m pretty sure it’ll always be hard.”
“That’s understandable.” I squeeze her gently. “Losing your parents at such a young age is fucking tragic.”
“They died in a car accident,” she tells me, the tone of her voice both an open book and vulnerable. “Birdie and I lost both our parents at the same