Micah groaned but stepped back.
She waited until her panting was under control before she spoke, a million questions racing through her head. “I don’t get it. Why did you act like you didn’t remember?”
Micah ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I just did.” She raised a brow, urging him to continue. “I didn’t want you to assume anything.”
“Like assume what?”
“Like…that we’d pick up where we left off. Or whatever.” His eyes shifted with unease.
But she didn’t care if he felt uncomfortable. She folded her arms. “So it’s okay if you wanted to pick things up where we left off, but not if I wanted to?”
“No. Not like that.”
“What if I didn’t want you to assume anything about me?”
“Then you were free to pretend you didn’t remember me. Which you did. Or you could have rejected my advances. Which you didn’t.” He crossed back to her, resting his hands on her elbows. “It’s just…different…for me. I have to be careful with women. Because I’m…you know.”
She shrugged him off. “An arrogant ass**le? Or a movie star? Because right now they seem to be one and the same.”
“Maddie…”
She cut him off with an upraised hand. “No, no, I get it. No need to explain. You’re a famous actor.” Could she help it if the word actor sounded like a curse on her lips? “You call the shots.”
“Maddie, you’re blowing this out of proportion.”
“Except I run the camera. So technically, I call the shots. At least I’m calling this one.” She turned toward the door, ready to bolt. The idea that he held all the power irked her. Just because he was famous? No, she didn’t go for that. He was a regular guy like everyone else.
He put his hand up to stop her from walking past, but a knock at his trailer door brought it back to his side. He groaned. “Yes?”
“They’re ready for you on set,” Sam’s voice bellowed through the door.
Maddie glanced back and saw Micah screw up his face in frustration. “Okay. Be right there.” To her he said, “Can we please talk about this later?”
“There’s nothing to say.” She opened the trailer door. Before she left, she turned back to the disheveled man staring after her. “I’ll send your makeup artist. You need a touch-up.”
Chapter Seven
It took the entire walk back to set for Maddie’s heartbeat to settle to its regular rate. Even then, her head still spun from her Micah encounter.
What the f**k just happened? No, don’t think about it. Think about work.
Except there wasn’t any work for her to do. She’d adjusted her focuses earlier with the stand-ins and Adam didn’t need anything from her at the moment. She watched as Joe walked Heather through the blocking on the log cabin where the scene took place. It was a beautiful location. The aromatic purple grape-like flowers—Maddie didn’t know their name—mixed with the tall green and yellow grasses against the rustic wood of the log home, creating a quite visually appealing setting. It would look good on film. Especially when the ruggedly handsome Micah was added to the scene, leaning back against the rough post of the deck, thighs hard and…
Stop.
But she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Micah Preston had kissed her. He kissed her. And he had been into it. And he had wanted more. Then, did she end things? Yes, she was pretty sure she had. Was that really what she wanted? Yes, yes it was. There must be a good reason though she couldn’t manage to think of what it was. All she could think of were his lips, his hands, his bulging pants…
No, stop it, stop it, stop it.
Think about something else. Usually, she spent dead time on set working on her own movie, editing on her laptop. But her computer bag was in the crew’s trailer and that was too close to Micah’s trailer.
Micah’s trailer…
She pulled out her phone and scanned her Facebook newsfeed for distraction. Nothing interesting. She was tempted to update her status, but was afraid Just made out with Micah Preston and am now lost in thoughts of him na**d against me was an inappropriate post. Though it would probably garner several “likes”.
She pocketed her phone and looked up to see Micah complete with fresh makeup strolling onto the set. Even with several yards between them, he met her eyes and an undercurrent of electricity rushed through her. She tapped her foot to direct the frenzied energy somewhere. Did he do this to every woman or just her? Probably all women. She wasn’t special. But there he was, maintaining eye contact, looking at her with—what? Yearning?
“Let’s talk,” he mouthed to her.
She was confused. Should she talk to him? Why did he even want to talk to her? He was into women for a quick roll in the hay, and if he thought that was what he was getting from her, then he had another thing coming.
But that yearning look he gave her… Maybe he wanted something different from her. Something more.
Right. And fairies were real and rainbows had pots of gold at the end of them.
She wished she were invisible, wished she could fade into the background like she usually did. She closed her eyes, as if doing so could make her disappear. When she opened them, Micah had moved his attention to his scene partner. The absence of his gaze chilled her. Despite how easily she’d pulled herself from his embrace, she wanted him—there was no doubt of that. Wanted him so much she practically needed a change of panties whenever he was in the room.
It was possible she’d been too hard on him. So he’d pretended not to remember her. That was shitty. But he was right—she hadn’t let on that she remembered him either.
It was his reasons for pretending that bothered her. That he’d thought she’d want to take advantage of him just because he was a famous actor. He had some superiority complex.
Except, okay, maybe most women did that to him. Assumed things about him or showed an interest because he was who he was. She should give him a break.
But that just illuminated the whole reason she shouldn’t get involved with him in the first place. He was an actor. A famous actor. And his life was, as he said, different. One main highlight being the rapid-fire way he went through women. All of it suggested that Micah was just a whole jumbled up mess of stuff not to get involved in.
She was stupid for being attracted to him in the first place. It was the memory of him she desired—a fun night in the past. That was all.