morning I woke up feeling well rested, and I had plenty of time to get dressed for once. I put on a pair of jeans that actually fit me, and a black tank top that would help me get through the hot day. I even fixed my hair as opposed to letting it air dry like I usually did.
By the time a honk sounded announcing my ride’s arrival, I was practically skipping. I took two steps out the door before skidding to a halt.
Unless Fran had started driving a limousine and had transformed into an Australian movie star overnight, then Declan Davies had carjacked my ride. His lean body was propped against the door of the black car, exuding nonchalance. God, he was handsome. It wasn’t even fair…And I’d gotten to see him naked. The thought would’ve brought a wicked smile to my face if I hadn’t been so damn irritated at him.
“I called Fran to let her know you would no longer be requiring her assistance.”
“And why would you do that?” My eyebrow hiked skyward, just as the irritated hitch of my voice sloped into dangerous territory.
“I’m insulted,” he began and I wanted to stop him right then and there, but he plowed on, “I’ll have you know, I’m incredibly environmentally conscious. Don’t you Californians appreciate that sort of thing? I couldn’t just sit back and watch all that precious oil go to waste.”
My eyes studied him sharply, while he did nothing but bat his long, dark eyelashes at me innocently. I didn’t believe his act for a second, but what was I supposed to call him out on? I had no choice but to enter the door he held open.
I wasn’t exactly well-versed in the aftermath of intercourse. I mean, after I’d lost my virginity to Cam, I was whisked home on a plane the next morning before I ever had to face him or the realization of my actions. When I’d finally seen him again that summer, the morning-after awkwardness had long faded away, and there hadn’t been anyone after Cam. He was the single blemish on my number card. Getting knocked up pretty much cured any and all desires I might have had to sleep around during college. I was completely ignorant when it came to the protocols of casual sex.
If anything, Declan seemed even more at ease around me, lounging carelessly across the expensive interior to my right. His untroubled surface had the opposite effect on my disposition. It made me restless, eager to ruffle his feathers.
“Why are you even coming in today? I thought the big adoption agency scene was the only thing on the docket,” I questioned suspiciously. From what I could tell, Cam’s absence from my trip that day in Raleigh held true to real life in the script.
It wasn’t even an exceptionally important scene. I used the word ‘big’ only in terms of scale. The large set they’d been constructing was impressive in size and visual appeal. Plus, production would be overflowing with extras, and from what I could tell from Georgia’s plans for the filming, it would be a long day with many shots and shifting camera angles.
“You’re not even in the scene,” I accused.
Declan’s only response was a noncommittal shrug, but I took it as an affirmative gesture.
“Yeah, you’re a real environmentalist,” I scoffed. “So what exactly is the point of you coming to work today? Do you really find that much joy in torturing me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” His jaw hardened until it looked like it could’ve been carved from marble by a renowned sculptor. Someone could write poetry about that jawline. I’m sure there were millions of girls who had done just that.
With his head tilted away from me, and an intensity I couldn’t decipher, he didn’t offer any further explanation. I’d honestly been joking about his intention of torturing me, but his sullen reaction left me uneasy. If he wasn’t there to rile me up, then why was he there?
I didn’t dare push him on the subject, half fearful what the answer might be. I was almost relieved when he didn’t say anything more all the way to the lot’s parking area. He didn’t even try to follow me to Madeline’s trailer. It weirded me out, especially since aggravating me was his absolute favorite pastime when he was bored, and I couldn’t imagine he had something to entertain him without a script to go over or lines to practice. Maybe he was sick.
The strangeness of the morning