I place my palm on his chest and peer into his eyes. “In what way? Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?”
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “I’ve always wanted to act. To perfect my art and be the best performer I can be. All this interest in me, in my personal life and my appearance, concerns me. I don’t want that to overshadow my work, you know?”
I nod, because I do. We’ve already had a few paparazzi following us around, and I know the level of interest is going to explode in the coming months. It’s not that either of us is unfamiliar with this aspect of the business. Our parents are famous, and there are always asshole photographers following us around on family outings; however, it’s rare for paps to take more than a passing interest in us when we are out alone.
Until now.
I hadn’t properly considered what Reeve’s blossoming career and notoriety would do for me, and it’s only adding to the anxiety I feel knowing he is this close to leaving for three months. “I guess it will just take some adjustment,” I say, pushing my own worries aside to reassure him. “It’s part and parcel of the life of an actor. You’re young, hot, and talented as fuck. Of course, there will be media interest and attention from fans.”
“At least I have you to keep me grounded.” He reels me into his body.
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you if you start behaving like a dick with a swollen head.” I run my fingers along his chest and stomach, tracing the dips and curves of his abs through his thin shirt. Reeve has been working out like crazy these past few months, and he has massively transformed his body. His arms and shoulders are even broader now, and his six-pack almost looks painted on it’s that perfect.
“I’m going to miss you so fucking much.” Reaching out, he cuts the stem on a rose.
“Pfft.” I stand on my tiptoes and brush my lips against his. “You’ll be having too much fun living the dream to miss me. Meanwhile, I’ll be stuck with boring classes, annoying teachers, and Nate McAndrews irritating the shit out of me every second of every day.” The guy has not let up about Saffron, and I seriously want to rip out his vocal cords so he can no longer speak.
Reeve hands me the rose, and I lift it to my nose, closing my eyes and inhaling the familiar spicy aroma.
“I don’t know how Alex puts up with that idiot,” he says, as I blink my eyes open. “He is seriously getting on my last nerve.” A muscle ticks in his jaw.
“I don’t want to talk about Nate.” I slide my free hand between our bodies, stroking my fingers along the length of his cock through his jeans, loving how quickly he hardens underneath my touch. “We have much better things to do with our time, right?”
Reeve grabs my hand, pulling me back along the path. “I like the way you think.” He shoots me a sexy grin, and his eyes flare with need as we race toward the house and the privacy of my bedroom.
6
“Come here, baby,” Reeve says, opening his arms, as I hastily swipe at the silent tears streaming down my face. “Please don’t cry. It’s killing me.”
“I’m sorry,” I choke out, crawling into his lap in the back seat of the car. “I swore I wasn’t going to cry, but my tear ducts obviously didn’t get the memo.”
“It’s only three months, not forever. I’ll be home for prom before you know it.”
I clasp his face in my hands. “I’m so damn proud of you, Reeve, and really excited for you.” I might be devastated at the prospect of so long without him, but it isn’t a lie.
He rests his forehead against mine. “I needed to hear that, because I’m scared shitless. What if I fuck this up?”
I ease back so I can see him. “Are you kidding me? There is no way you can fuck this up. We’ve been running lines religiously from the moment you got the part, and even I could recite Cam’s lines in my sleep. You’ve got this, babe. You are going to kill it.”
His lips crash against mine in a heated kiss that is laced with desperation and fear. I moan as his tongue plunders my mouth, rocking my pelvis against him, wishing there was time to make love to him again. We have been inseparable and insatiable these past few weeks, yet it still isn’t enough. “I love you,” he says, pulling me into a hug. “I love you so damn much. Don’t forget that.” He bands his arms around me, squeezing me tight, and I close my eyes, drinking in the feel of him against me.
“I won’t,” I promise, resting my head on his hair and clutching his shoulders tight.
“I mean it, Viv.” He lifts me off his lap and onto the seat. “Things are going to get crazy, but nothing matters to me as much as you do. You are my entire world, and that will never change.”
“Stop it.” I swat at his chest as more tears spring from my eyes. “Stop being so damn romantic. So damn perfect, because it just makes our separation even harder.”
The door opens, and Simon Lancaster pops his head in. “It’s time,” he tells his son, and I’m surprised to see his features soften when he looks at me.
“Just give us one more minute,” I plead, reaching for the wrapped package on the floor.
Simon nods, closing the door.
“Open it on the plane.” I hand the sparkly silver-foil package to Reeve. I bought him a Louis Vuitton messenger bag to hold his script and notes, his phone charger, water bottle, and whatever else he needs with him on set. And I framed a selfie of us from our weekend at Big Bear. In the photo, I’m sitting on Reeve’s lap with my arms around his neck, and we’re naked underneath the blanket wrapped around us. We are looking deep into one another’s eyes, love radiating between us in the adoring way we are staring at each other. It was as if the outside world ceased to exist. There was just us in that moment, and the photo beautifully captured that sentiment.
I framed a copy of it for myself, and it takes pride of place on my bedside table. I want Reeve to be the last thing I see before I place my head on my pillow at night and the first thought on my mind when I wake each morning. I’m hoping the photo will do the same for him.
“I left a gift for you on your bed.”
My lower lip wobbles as I struggle to keep my emotions in check. Reeve is always thoughtful, and he makes me feel so cherished. I think, no, I know, that is my dad’s influence, because he sure as hell didn’t pick up any romantic gestures from his own father. My dad dotes on my mom, and he spoils her rotten. I know Reeve’s noted it all, and he treats me with the same devotion, love, and respect.
We share a soft lingering kiss before we reluctantly climb out of the car. My heart aches painfully in my chest as I watch the last of Reeve’s luggage being stowed on the Studio 27 private jet. The studio producing the movie has arranged transport to collect Reeve from Logan International Airport and take him to the hotel he’ll be calling home for the next six weeks. Thereafter, they are filming on location in different parts of Massachusetts, and he’ll be living between his trailer and temporary hotels.
“Good luck, son,” my dad says, pulling Reeve into a hug. “We’re rooting for you.”
“Enjoy the experience, honey,” my mom says, wrestling Reeve away from my dad. She kisses both his cheeks, one at a time, while taking his hands in hers. “And I’m only a phone call away if you need me. I know from personal experience how daunting it can be, so call any time, day or night.”
It’s not Reeve’s first time on a movie set. We hung around different sets all the time as kids. Plus, he has had some small walk-on parts in a few popular TV shows over the years, and he nabbed a decent part in a Netflix movie last year. But this is the first time he’s the lead actor in a big-budget Hollywood production that has already garnered massive interest, and the pressure is real; the responsibility is intense.