Becca and Kit were close friends to this day.
Kit had helped so many people in similar ways. Her nature was all the more extraordinary given how she’d grown up—as the only daughter of a supermodel and a tennis ace. He had no idea how she’d turned out so normal. He just knew she had.
Far more normal than Noah.
Kit had expected to spend the night tossing and turning, but she slept more soundly than she had since the day the stalker broke into her previous home. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the reason why. Apparently she could hire the best security in the world, but all she needed to feel safe was to have Noah in the house.
Annoyed with herself, she got out of bed in the dark and stumbled to the bathroom to have a quick shower to wake up. That done, she dressed and grabbed her purse. When she stepped out of the bedroom, she was startled to see a light in the kitchen. Her heart thudded until she saw Noah’s half-naked body moving about in there.
“What are you doing up?” Nobody should be up at this hour; if the studio wasn’t paying her, she certainly wouldn’t be.
“I know you don’t like to eat this early,” he said with that old crooked smile, “but I made up one of those healthy seaweed things you like and put it in this.” He held out a travel mug, drawing her eyes to his chest. The ink there was relatively simple—the biggest work was on his back. “So you can drink while they’re slathering you in makeup.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, feeling awkward and not at her best. She couldn’t deal with a bare-chested Noah this early in the morning. Especially when he was all mussed up and yawning and lazy-looking. It made her want to walk into his arms and snuggle against him while he rubbed his bristly jaw against her hair.
Grabbing the drink, she headed to the garage entrance instead—to find he’d opened it for her.
He leaned against the entrance as she got into the black sports car she’d bought before the stalker forced her to pour all her money into this property and hiring security. She put the drink in the cup holder and pushed the garage-door opener.
“Still not a morning person, I see.”
“Shut up,” she muttered. “It’s not morning. It’s the middle of the night.” With that, she closed her door and backed out of the garage. The last thing she saw as she left was Noah standing in the doorway haloed in light, and she thought about how wonderful it would be to wake up to him every morning.
“Enough, Kit.” Slamming her hand on the steering wheel, she focused on the road, conscious of Casey behind her. When she had to stop at a red light, she sipped from the drink Noah had made her, all the while asking herself why she didn’t just run the light. It wasn’t as if anyone else was on the road.
The answer, of course, was that she was too much of a goody-two shoes. Kit didn’t need a shrink to tell her that she’d overcompensated for her crazy upbringing. When your parents partied till five in the morning every weeknight, you either joined them, or you put on noise-canceling headphones and locked your bedroom door so drunk party guests looking for the bathroom wouldn’t wake you.
Kit had chosen the second option.
Pulling into the studio lot, she picked up the travel mug and made her way to Makeup. Casey fell in with her, but neither one of them spoke, the bodyguard concerned with keeping an eye out for threats. Nothing had happened on the studio lot as yet, but no one was taking any chances.
“Only one more torturous morning wake-up to go!” she said to Becca when she entered the brightly lit glare of the Makeup trailer. “Only two more days of being an avocado-green superhero!”