Hate the Player - Max Monroe Page 0,16

this fucking tour can kiss my ass!”

Her emotion is so palpable, her voice shakes. Goddamn.

“You’re not done, darlin’.”

“Oh yes, I am,” she asserts, turning to leave.

I grab her by the wrist and spin her back so hard, her body slams into mine. “No,” I say again, “you’re not.”

Without thought, her warm breath heavily mingling with my own, I pull her tight to my chest with an arm around her back and bring my lips to hers.

Before I make contact—before I can even anticipate the blow—Birdie reaches out with her right hand and slaps me clear across the face. The sound of her palm hitting my skin echoes inside William Capo’s office, and I swear I hear someone in the room gasp.

My cheek stings like a son of a bitch.

That was definitely not in the script.

My gut reaction is simple—what the fuck is wrong with her?

But my dick? He’s a total masochist. Sweet Jesus, I should not be so turned on right now.

When Birdie’s eyes go wide, her anger waning and the realization of her way-off-script slap consuming her thoughts, something inside me refuses to let her fall out of the moment of this scene.

Stay with me, firecracker. Stay with me.

I move closer to her, my lips just inches from her mouth despite the proven danger associated with that move, and her breaths turn to pants. “You’re not done, and we’re certainly not done,” I whisper. “Hell, darlin’, we’re just getting started.”

Our close proximity forces her thoughts back to me, back to this moment. Her eyes search my face, flitting between my eyes and my lips.

But I don’t make the move because, having just been refused, Cal wouldn’t make the move. He might be a dick, but he’s a gentleman, too.

This time, he lets Arizona decide.

I dare you, my eyes say. I dare you to kiss me.

The sexual tension between these characters—in this script—has been building since Cal met Arizona in a dive bar in Memphis. At this point in their love story, it’s become so potent, so powerful, that neither she nor he can deny it.

But Birdie and I are just getting started. My God, our chemistry is off the charts.

“Give in, Ari,” I whisper. “Give in to what you want.”

Birdie does exactly what Cal needs Arizona to do; she closes the distance between them and presses her lips to his.

Fuck. Her lips are even softer than I imagined.

I take over the kiss, tangling our mouths with the kind of intensity that could move worlds. She slides her hands into my hair, and a moan rolls from her throat to my tongue.

I don’t know whether I’m Cal or me right now. I just know that kissing Birdie Harris feels really damn good.

Double fuck.

A throat clears from somewhere outside of our bubble, and I pull away from the kiss and set Birdie back a foot.

Jesus. I’ve never forgotten myself like that.

She looks at me with wide, melted eyes, her breaths coming fast and unsteady, and I’ll be damned if I can actually look away. I can’t be sure, but I don’t think she knew entirely what she was doing either.

The room stays quiet for what feels like an eternity until Willy breaks the silence with several claps of his hands.

“Nice work,” he says, voice jovial. “Very nice work.”

William Capo never says anything is nice. His go-to is criticism or silence. But never nice. Or very nice.

“The slap was certainly an improvisation,” Howie teases, but it doesn’t take a psychic to read between the lines. Looks like there are about to be some script changes that lead to me getting slapped quite a bit during this movie.

I should probably be pissed about that slap, but…I’m not. In fact, my dick’s halfway done setting up a campsite in my fucking pants.

“I’m… Oh God… I’m so sorry,” Birdie mutters, bringing a shaking hand to her mouth. “I’m not sure what came over me.”

Howie is quick to reassure her. “Trust me, Birdie, there’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m sure there’re a lot of jilted women out there who are thankful for that slap, and the four of us will never forget it.”

I roll my eyes. Funny ha-ha, asshole. Still, as far as Birdie is concerned, his words do nothing to ease her discomfort.

“Um…do you mind if I take a quick moment?” she asks, her voice wavy with nerves again.

“Of course,” Serena says. “Take all the time you need.”

She doesn’t have to tell Birdie twice. She’s out of the office doors between one breath and

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