TAMING HOLLYWOOD'S BADDEST BO- Max Monroe Page 0,22

dropped the bearded broody jerk act long enough to even consider my safety has to mean something.

Right?

Maybe I’ve grown on him a little? Maybe he realizes it was shortsighted and unreasonable to send me away without hearing me out?

My dad always told me I had a way of giving people no option but to like me, even when I was being a pain in the ass. Maybe this is that.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He glances over his shoulder to look at me as he screws the cap back onto whatever he was putting on my injuries and searches my eyes. “Is this about that stupid movie?”

Yes.

“No,” I lie and shake my head.

“You can ask,” he says quietly before standing up from the bed and crossing his arms over his chest, intimidating again. “But I can’t guarantee I’ll answer.”

“Why did you leave Hollywood?” Although, the question does contain some ulterior motives, I mostly just want to know. I’ve never been able to wrap my brain around what would make someone walk away from that much work—what would make someone throw away all their success in an instant.

He rolls his eyes and turns to leave. “I should’ve known you weren’t gonna drop that shit.”

“Wait! That’s not how I meant it, honest. I was just curious.”

He shakes his head, his mouth in a firm line. “I know you’re pretty banged up and shit, and I can imagine you’re going to be quite sore tomorrow, so it’s probably best if you stay here in my guest room and let yourself rest and heal. I’ll be leaving in the morning on a hiking trip, but I’ll be back in a couple of days to run you back across the bay on the boat, and you can be on your way.”

A sarcastic retort about why a man like him would even need a guestroom is on the tip of my tongue, but I bite it back and focus on the priority.

He wants me to stay at his cabin? For more than one night?

What in the ever-loving-hell?

“A couple of days?” I question in absolute confusion. I’m in a cabin in the middle of freaking nowhere. “What am I supposed to do here for a couple of days?”

“Well, there’s enough food and drink in my pantry, fridge, and freezer to last three months, so I know you’ll be good there. Other than that, I don’t know,” he says with an asshole shrug. “I’m sure you’ll find some kind of messed-up shit to snoop through.”

“First, you wanted me to leave your property, and now, you’re okay with me staying here, without you even being here?” I question. I mean, it’s truly absurd.

“Don’t take my kindness for a change of heart. I still want you gone,” he says without hesitation. “But I’m not completely insensitive to the beating your body just took out there in the water. You’re damn lucky you didn’t lose your fucking toes.”

This man is downright impossible.

“Although,” he adds. “If you want to try to kayak your way out of here again while I’m gone, I’m not going to be here to stop you—or save you. And well, I think we both know your kayaking skills are inept at best.”

I huff out a breath. “I can’t believe I used to love you as a kid. You’re not even broody or surly. You’re broody and surly’s evil stepbrother…awful.”

He smirks at that. “You think I’m awful?”

I nod.

“Good. When you leave, you’ll have no goddamn reason to come back.”

I guess even my gift for making people like me in the midst of impossible odds has its limits.

Unless I somehow become well versed in kidnapping, Luca Weaver isn’t getting on a plane to anywhere, let alone Hollywood to do a movie for me.

I throw my hands up in the air, expecting him to leave the room, but for some reason, he doesn’t. Silence stretches between us, and I half expect him to change his mind about letting me stay and send me back down to the river to find my own way again, almost-certain death be damned.

But when he opens his mouth, I’m shocked that it’s because he’s opening up to me about something else.

“I left Hollywood because I had to,” he says gruffly. “Drugs, drinking, women—I was on a one-way ride to an early fucking grave. And not a single goddamn person around me gave a shit. It was time that I started making decisions for myself, taking control of my life.” He drops both his arms to his