Red Hot Rebel - Olivia Hayle Page 0,31

knots itself in her hair. It’s just as soft as I’d imagined.

And I don’t want to let go.

It scares me just how much I don’t want to lift my head from hers. How completely her sweetness floods my system and hijacks my thinking. It feels like it takes ten years of my life, like it costs me half my hair to grayness, but I press my lips softly to hers one last time. The space between us fills with the sound of our breathing.

“Okay,” she whispers. “That was… yeah. Okay.”

I untangle my hand from her hair and slide it down, gripping her waist with both of mine. She looks like she could use the steadying.

“Just okay?”

Her eyes flutter open and she smiles at me. Is it just me or does she look dazed? “Better than okay.”

I raise an eyebrow. “My ego smarts, but I’ll take it.”

“As if I could bruise your ego.” She slips her hands down from around my neck, my skin tingling through the shirt where she touches. “Kissed in Paris. Thank you.”

“Happy to oblige.” I let go of her, force my hands to drop to my sides. My entire body still curves toward her, and I swear, if she were to turn up her face and ask for a second round…

But she doesn’t. She nods to the other side of the river, a fierce blush on her cheeks. “Let’s get back to the hotel.”

10

Ivy

I’m packed and my hair and makeup is done early the next morning. We only have a half day left to shoot in Paris, and most of that will be filming me walking around little streets and alleys. We’ve yet to shoot by the Eiffel Tower, too, which is an absolute must.

Beneath the fluffy hotel robe, I’m wearing the flowy summer dress the agency put me in. It clings to my shape perfectly, which means I’ll have to think about not hunching over. Combined with the hat they want me to wear and the flats, it does feel a bit… French countryside-ish, not that I have any frame of reference outside of movies.

Sitting on the giant gilded bed, the covers neatly made, my heart feels like it’s in my throat. Rhys will be here any minute, knocking on that door with his camera in hand, like he has for the past few days.

We said goodbye last night right outside that door, his kiss still lingering on my lips.

It’s only been five days since we left New York, and in that short amount of time I’ve managed to kiss him. My sister would pass out if I told her, but not before she yelled I told you so!

My lips still tingle at the memory.

I haven’t been kissed often. I’ve rarely let men get that close, and every time it’s happened, I haven’t been able to get out of my own head. But with Rhys, staying in my own head hadn’t been an option.

For the first time ever, it didn’t feel like I was on the outside looking in. I was fully there with him, my lips moving with his.

It was the kind of kiss that makes you understand why people love kissing so much. It was the kind of kiss that makes you want another.

There’s a knock on the door.

And he’s there when I open it, a stray lock falling down across his forehead. A dark eyebrow is already raised. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” I rock back on my heels, unable to keep from smiling. Why am I nervous? “Did you sleep well?”

“I did. Did you?”

“Yes.”

He looks down at me. “Did you forget to get dressed?”

“What?”

“The robe?” He narrows his eyes. “You’re not terribly hungover, are you?”

“No, not at all. I was actually going to ask you for a favor. Come on, come inside.”

Rhys steps into my hotel room, and it shrinks. Perhaps that’s one of the undiscovered laws of physics or he’s just bending them entirely, but there’s a lot less space with him standing in here.

“Another favor?”

Another? Does he mean the kiss yesterday?

“Yes. Not… yes. Here.” I hand him my phone and struggle to find my way back to a joke, to our camaraderie. “I know you hate photographing with smartphones, so I’m asking you to go against your own principles here.”

He groans. “You want me to take a picture of you?”

“Please.” I open the double doors to my balcony, welcoming the already-warm air of the city. The sky is a beautiful pale blue, strewn with wispy clouds, and the Eiffel Tower beckons in