Slow Burn (Feverish #4) Page 9

  Which was fucking stupid.

  After the waitress left, the guys started talking, enjoying themselves now that the hard part of the day was over, and suddenly Brian started feeling guilty about intentionally making Sophie feel like she wasn’t part of the group. Just because she wasn’t and just because he had reasons to dislike her immensely didn’t mean he had to be an insufferable asshole to her.

  But he just couldn’t help himself.

  “You are gonna eat, aren’t you?” he said, waiting to say more until she assaulted him with her cool green eyes. “From what Mark told me, you’re going to be more physical tomorrow, moving around and stuff—so you might want to make sure you have enough energy for whatever he throws your way.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I don’t know. You’re working yourself pretty hard, especially when you include all the nasty looks you’re sneaking in. I imagine acting like a sweet person is a lot of work for you.”

  “I could say the same for you. I’ve spent enough time around you now to know you think you’re pretty funny. But you’re not, Mr. Zimmer. You’re pathetic. And your friends love you too much to tell you that.”

  Oh, she was playing downright nasty now. He could, too.

  “Well, at least I have friends.”

  Her eyes turned into slits, and if looks could kill, Brian would have transformed into a pile of dusty bones. Tilting his head, he gave her as much of a smile as he could muster, but they wound up simply glaring at each other throughout the evening. Maybe there was already too much bad blood between them to even try to build some kind of bridge. And why did Brian care anyway? It wasn’t like he needed another friend—and, as far as women went, there were plenty of fish in the sea. He most certainly did not need this one.

  Still, he burned for her—and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about that.

  * * *

  Sophie really didn’t want to get in the limo with the guys the next morning. After the nasty words Brian had said to her the night before, the last thing she wanted to do was spend any more time with these men than she had to. Once again, to keep herself going, she had to remind herself of her growing bank account.

  Oh, and something else—her growing Instagram account.

  She was halfway done with this job. One more day and she could get the hell out of here. And, for all she knew, this video could lead to bigger and better things. No one said she had to look at the bassist any time other than when the camera was on. No one said she really had to love him. And it wouldn’t be the first time two people acted like they were in love when, really, they hated each other to the depths of their being.

  She could do this.

  Still, on their drive to the building they were using for filming, she couldn’t help going over in her mind some of the words Brian had said. He’d actually touched on a sore spot, but no way in hell would she ever let him know that. Unbeknownst to him, he’d been right about one thing—she didn’t have many friends. Rory was probably her only friend nowadays and, really, he didn’t count. They were roommates. They had to get along.

  At one point during the ride, she caught Brian looking at her. When she did, she forced a thin smile to spread across her face, knowing that was the only one he would get except for when the cameras were rolling.

  She would make damn sure of that.

  * * *

  “Gentlemen,” the director greeted them when they walked in. “And lady, I reviewed the footage and I’m pretty happy with what we have, so here’s how the day is going to go: We’ll spend about an hour with the band all together, and then Sam, Clay, Dane, you can go. Sound good?”

  The guys didn’t have to say anything for Brian to know exactly what they were thinking. While they were undoubtedly glad to be done with their part, they were probably wishing that they would have spent an extra hour last night before getting on a plane and heading to Colorado. Instead, they’d spent several hours away from their loved ones only to have to work for one more hour. As Brian’s eyes passed over his friends, he could see it on all their faces. Except for Clay. His woman was always with him. Emily, though, had been itching to visit her dad, so that probably influenced Clay’s opinion.

  Sam voiced his thoughts, looking at their drummer. “Dane, you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Yep.”

  “One hour?” Sam asked the director.

  “Two tops.”

  Sam slowly drew in a breath before turning his head to their manager. “Mark, since we’re needed onstage, I need you to book flights to Denver for me and Dane for what—sometime after one, maybe?”

  “Make that four tickets—Emily and me want to go home, too.”

  Brian understood where the guys were coming from…but it seemed like they’d be in the air more than they’d be in colorful Colorado. Still, he envied them.

  That was about to change.

  * * *

  As promised, the director focused the first hour’s efforts on the band in toto, but when the three other members left, it was then just Sophie and Brian with all eyes on them. More than once, he had to remind himself that he could do this. He could make nice with this woman for just a few more hours. He admitted to himself that she truly was something to look at, a classic beauty, even more gorgeous as a brunette than a blonde—and that was saying something, considering he had a thing for gals with platinum locks.

  While they were getting the shot ready, Brian and Sophie stood close to each other on the stage. He wasn’t sure how she felt, but this shit was awkward, so he tried to think of something to say to her. The director kept asking them to move a little bit this way or that. From what he could gather, they were going to point a spotlight down on them while the pair looked lovingly into each other’s eyes, Brian holding his bass with Sophie, perhaps, clasping her hands together nearby.

  Yeah, he could do this. As he recalled the last month he and Cookie had been together, he knew for sure. By that point, he’d grown pretty tired of her stupidity and vanity but tried to make it work because she really was so damn hot. More than that, though, he hated giving up on things, particularly something he’d worked hard at. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d kept thinking he could be a good influence on her. Maybe if he could have gotten her to read a good book instead of just flipping through pages in a fashion magazine, or if she could have learned to appreciate art or a really good movie, but no dice. Those were some of the things Brian admitted that he enjoyed out loud—but there were more, things he’d hardly told a soul…like loving classical music and historical documentaries. But Cookie didn’t like one damn thing Brian did. She liked things that required no thought but occasional bitchiness, shit like bubblegum pop, dumb shows featuring wannabe celebrities like the Kardashians, and gossip shows. She also enjoyed the beach, lots of fawning attention, and little else. Brian was surprised that she’d adopted a Pomeranian six months after they split, but when he saw that she carried it around like a baby, he got it. Jesus, the two of them were like night and day. Why had he ever thought he could make it work?

  Fuck. But he and Sophie were also like night and day, except in a different way. They were more like rivals, not in perhaps the traditional sense, but they were definitely enemies. It had happened when Sophie had gotten the wrong idea about him. She thought she knew him. She thought she understood his motivations. Plus, her apology was hollow—and she didn’t know shit about him. But he didn’t understand her, either. Frankly, he thought she was a touch crazy. But just one more day together, he reminded himself, and then they would be done. What gave him hope was that he hadn’t seen any paparazzi during this particular gig. So, even though they’d had some rough spots, if they could just make it through this one last thing, he would then tell Mark in no uncertain terms that they were done. Done forever. He didn’t give a shit about publicity or anything else like that. He only cared about his fans. The critics didn’t matter. The press didn’t matter. Even Sophie and Mark didn’t matter. All that mattered was th
e music and how the fans felt about it.

  But he began to realize maybe his heart had other ideas. Because, as they began shooting later that morning, he was having a hard time keeping it together. Sophie had her hands on his chest while they both stared lovingly into each other’s eyes. When they held each other, they weren’t smiling. It was more like a warm, soft gaze, the way you might look upon a soulmate. Once again, something started to tickle at Brian—and it was more than his cock responding. It was something more. But why? It wasn’t like they’d gotten to know each other. In fact, about the only thing he’d felt for her up to this point, aside from animosity and hatred, was pity. And he really couldn’t base anything upon emotions like that, not anything healthy. So he found himself growing angry for allowing himself to feel anything other than something negative toward this woman, which was all she deserved. Had she not approached him in the first place, they wouldn’t even be making this video. They wouldn’t have to be doing anything together. But somehow this woman continued inserting herself in his life, and so he let that fuel the anger. It was a reminder that, even though he could act loving, he could also keep his true feelings for this woman buried inside. As long as the director was happy with how Brian appeared on camera, then he could continue letting those feelings fester inside…exactly like they should.

  After a quick “lunch” consisting of fruit and tiny sandwiches, they moved outside. The director had a Harley out there beside the building, and he had them posing near it. The day was on the warm side, so Brian didn’t know how he felt about the black leather jacket he had to wear, but Sophie actually looked damn fine in hers.

  Goddammit it. Why the hell did his brain have to keep going there over and over again?

  He had to get his shit together. He couldn’t keep letting his brain go there. Unfortunately, pressing up against her, holding her like a woman deserved to be held, the animal inside him emerged, and he knew he had to taste this woman. Just once, he wanted to have her.

  Past experience, though, told him he didn’t have a chance. She wouldn’t have him. She had absolutely no interest in him—and damned if he’d try to woo her. Maybe she was worth that kind of effort to some other man, but not to Brian. There was somebody out there for him, just not this woman.

  He would do well to remember that.

  Chapter Eleven

  What the hell was going on? Being close to Brian for just a few hours had turned out to be one of the most difficult tasks Sophie had ever had to engage in.

  And not for the reasons that she would’ve initially thought.

  One thing, for instance…being that close to Brian, she could smell his cologne, and it was driving her insane. It was a delicious, spicy, masculine scent, and something about it made her want to tear into his flesh. Again, what the hell was wrong with her? What was worse was that, pressed up against him, she could feel his carved musculature. She’d imagined rock stars staying thin due to drug use and liquid lunches, and she hadn’t imagined the possibility of some of them actually taking care of their bodies. She’d had no idea that rock stars worked out. Until this very moment, she never would have guessed this guy had a rock hard physique underneath his t-shirt.

  And then there was his face. His cool blue eyes gazing into hers made her feel feminine and sexy, wanted and desired.

  Made her feel needed.

  Something visceral inside her responded to him, wanted to do what they might have done thousands of years ago. She imagined that, had his eyes explored hers this way at the dawn of civilization, there would have been no question about what they would do.

  They would have fucked like their lives depended on it.

  Her reaction called to the basest of needs, instincts buried deep inside her, and it was something she felt like she couldn’t fight. Worse, at one point, when they were waiting for the cameras to adjust again, she shifted and noticed that her panties had grown wet. What the hell was wrong with her that her body could no longer differentiate between pretend and reality? But, perhaps, more importantly, how would she ever be able to get this guy out of her head when they parted ways?

  She had no fucking idea—but denying herself was going to make the day feel like forever.

  * * *

  Things were just beginning to heat up.

  By mid-afternoon, Brian was struggling. While he’d managed to keep his body from betraying his thoughts, his head was in bad shape. No matter what his brain thought about this woman, his body wanted her badly. It didn’t help that she smelled feminine, nor that she was soft where she should be soft, firm where she should be firm, perfect in every way.

  Fuck. She’d entangled herself in his brain in such a way that he doubted he would ever be able to get her out of there.

  At least, not without forcibly doing it. And, thanks to the blood leaving his brain, there was only one way Brian could think of at the moment.

  But that was the worst idea ever.

  Besides, she would never go for something like that. She’d already rejected him, and while that had temporarily bruised his ego, he’d gotten over it. It didn’t change the fact that he knew how she felt about him without question.

  A little while later, the director said, “There’s one last thing we need to do.” Brian was frustrated, ready to ask the guy what the hell else he wanted, and he saw the same level of exasperation on Sophie’s face. “Sorry, guys, but we need a kiss.” Responding to their expressions, he added, “And we’re not leaving without one.”

  “Aw, come on, man. You’ve got to be joking.”

  The director’s face grew sour. “How believable do you think it’s going to be for viewers if you don’t kiss? I know they’ll know that this is fiction, but we want them to get lost in the story, even if for just a moment—and if you really want to sell them on this love story, you’ve got to have a kiss. That’s Fiction 101.”

  Brian sighed just as he caught Sophie rolling her eyes. Well, at least they still had that in common. Not only did they dislike each other, but they weren’t exactly fans of the director, either.

  “That wasn’t in the script,” she said, and Brian nodded his head.

  Before either could say anything more, Mark came outside to where they were shooting. “Guys, I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta head out of here. We’ve got some issue at the venue in Seattle, so I’m going to head up there tonight to get it cleared up before the show.”

  Not that it mattered. The man had been nothing but a pain in the ass during the whole shoot—and, by this point, he and Sophie had a common goal: both wanted to be done with this shit already.

  “Do either of you need anything before I leave?”

  “No, but thank you, Mark.”

  “If you have any problems with payment or anything, let me know. Brian, you good?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He’d resisted the urge to say something sarcastic, because the tension was thick and he would have only made it worse. After Mark hopped in a cab that pulled up as if it had been waiting for him to say his last words, the director looked pointedly at the bassist. “Well,” Brian said to Sophie, “let’s just get this over with.”

  “Not so fast, Mr. Zimmer,” the director interrupted. “We need to get set up for the shot.” Earlier, the cameras had given them some wiggle room but now they felt surrounded. There were no fewer than three guys holding cameras around them and a couple of light poles stood just outside their circle. Then a makeup guy came over, patting both Brian and Sophie’s faces before the director asked them to get into place.

  Brian understood that meant he wanted Sophie in his arms—so he got close to her and waited for her eyes to tell him she was ready.

  Then the director said, “I want you to take this nice and slow. And here’s the deal, guys. If you do it right, we’ll only do one take. Sound good?”

  “Fine,” Sophie muttered.

  Brian, though, already smitten, wanted to give her a taste of what she’d given him the first time they met—and this was probably his only op
portunity to do it. Leave her wanting more, leave her expecting and needing more…and then walk away, cool as a cucumber. It wouldn’t be nearly as good as she’d gotten him, but it was all he had, and he needed to make it count.