Bad Boy Brody Page 11

I was halfway to her, far beyond what Matthew could’ve seen, but I felt eyes on me. Someone was watching me, and like a deer, I froze. My head cocked to the side as I tried to feel where the eyes were coming from.

I turned, feeling my attention pulled toward one of the private cabins, and there he was. The star Matthew talked about. He was standing on his bedroom porch, a bottle in his hand. I could smell the booze despite the distance between us.

He shouldn’t have been able to see me. It was dark, a black canvas to a normal human, but I knew he could. I felt it low in my belly. A different wave of awareness swept over me.

It felt strange, alien.

I picked up my pace and sprinted for Shiloh. She waited on the other side of the fence. Once I got there, I clambered up and threw a leg over her. She turned for the river the second I was settled astride her.

I didn’t look back, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of him watching me.

Brody

Goddamn.

I cursed when I woke the next day and glanced to the clock. If I got up, I’d make it for lunch. I was pretty sure I had a folder given to me with the itinerary, and they had times allotted for every meal. I shouldn’t have been able to eat. I drank an entire bottle of bourbon last night, but my looks hadn’t been the only other genes I inherited from my family—my stomach of steel had come from my uncle who had been a raging alcoholic. I could inhale an entire pizza with breakfast.

“Brody.”

Gayle knocked on the outside door.

My voice, which was half-gurgle, half-shout was not made of steel. “Go the fuck away!” Pain ripped through my head. For further effect, I reached down, grabbed a shoe, and hurled it across the room. My bedroom was inside the small cabin, but I buried my head back into my pillow. If I heard them, I was hoping they heard me.

She added, quieter, “I claimed jet lag for your absence this morning, but if you don’t get that million-dollar ass out here, I will personally book you a ticket back to Los Angeles.”

I was at the front door in a flash, reaching for the knob. Pausing, I glanced down. Yes. I had underwear on, and then I ripped open that door. I held up my hands. “Gayle, I’m so sorry.” I would’ve gotten on my knees if I thought it would help. Real shame laced my veins. “I’m an asshole in recovery.”

She came inside, shutting the door. “You’re a grieving brother. I don’t care about whatever you threw at the door. I care that you missed a breakfast meeting we had scheduled with the producers.”

“Producers?” I scratched behind my ear. “I thought I met them last night.”

“Not the Kellermans. I meant the production company they’re working with on this.”

“What?” I was searching my memory. I had faults, but forgetting meetings was not one of them. “I had no idea. Really.”

“Oh.” Her forehead wrinkled again. “Maybe I forgot to tell you.” Then she waved it all away, shooing me. “You’re too young for me to ogle anymore. Take a shower and be up in the main house in twenty minutes. Got it? The director will be there, and you better not miss that meeting.”

The director. Fuck. I nodded, my hand twitching at my side ready with a salute too. “Got it.”

She started to leave, but turned back. “Oh, hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Kara Toilley is arriving today. Don’t fuck the lead actress. Got it?”

I smirked but bit my tongue. “Not a problem.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re smirking. Why are you smirking?”

“Huh?”

Comprehension dawned, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. “Are you kidding me, Brody? You already screwed her, didn’t you?”

Three times, in fact.

I lifted a shoulder. “We did a commercial together. It was momentous.”

“Is she going to be a problem? Who haven’t you slept with on this movie?”

I raised an eyebrow, giving her a pointed look.

She started laughing as she shook her head. “Don’t start fluttering those long eyelashes at me. You’re a boy in my opinion.” She waved a hand up and down toward me. “Your body might be all man, but I view you like one of my kids. That pecker better never harden for me. Got that?” She ended with a bark.

I did salute her this time. “Yes, ma’am.” But I was grinning. She said I was all man. It shouldn’t matter one bit, but my ego felt a bit stroked. Or maybe it was hearing that she viewed me as one of hers.

I scratched the side of my neck. “I’ll be good. I promise, and don’t worry about Kara. She’s a hit-it-quit-it type, so I’m sure I was a notch on her bedpost.”

“Aren’t you to everyone?” She held a hand up, moving through the door. “Just keep the pants on, Brody, and you have fifteen minutes!”

The shower was quick. Getting ready was even quicker. I put some gel in my hair, letting it dry messy. The look tended to work on anyone who liked guys. Jeans and a shirt were next. I didn’t put on anything super trendy, just simple. When I left the cabin, I knew I was the vision of a celebrity. It was what they hired me to be, so it was the mask I wore for them.

“Brody.” Kellerman approached when I stepped inside the house.

“Matthew.” I shook his hand and, recognizing the woman next to him, I nodded. “Shanna Michaels. Hello. It’s great to see you.”

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