Page 75 of King of Hollywood

Font Size:

Page 75 of King of Hollywood

And his collarbones.

Fuck, his collarbones were pretty.

He was asleep, so I tried to be quiet—even when Dolly, the white-haired, bug-eyed beast tried to climb onto my lap, ignoring the presence of the laptop there at all. I pocketed my phone quickly to free up my hand in case I needed to defend my honor.

“No—” I hissed out, trying not to flinch. “Do not step on my spreadsheet—”

She blinked at me, lifting one soft little paw above the keys threateningly. It hovered, pink toe beans flickering into view. Using my free arm, I tried to push her away. Instead, somehow—witchcraft probably—the violent shove I’d planned on giving her somehow morphed into a gentle pet. My fingers fanned along her back, stroking the—oh wow, that was so soft!—fur with reverence. “You are a plush, little beast, aren’t you?” I murmured, surprised by how much I liked how her fur felt beneath my palm.

I was going to have cat hair on my nice slacks, dammit.

Like the devil had overtaken me entirely, I found myself gently guiding her to snuggle up against my other side. She purred, rumbling against me as I gave her head one last, awkward pat, before retreating back to my laptop.

Because, apparently, things could get worse—that was not the last of it.

“Fuck my life,” I muttered under my breath, as Tiffany—only a few seconds later—hopped up onto the couch and joined Dolly at my side. “I’m not your emotional support human,” I chided both of them under my breath, though I tucked Tiffany in too with an annoyed grumble.

This was awful.

So terribly awful.

Almost as awful as the fact that Felix wanted to wear matching suits with me and pretend to be husbands for the entire neighborhood to see.

Bundled up as the rather tall center of a Felix sandwich, I worked through the last of my work. When I finished, I stayed, still reluctant to wake the three sleeping beauties who had made me their bed.

The stuffed cat Felix had won at the fair sat on his mantel, staring at me, but I didn’t mind.

And when Dolly and Tiffany—movie characters, I’d Googled when Felix had told me their names—awoke and fled their spots on the couch, eyeing me like the intruder I was. I didn’t mind that either.

“Acting as though you didn’t just use me as a pillow for an hour and a half,” I snorted as they climbed onto their ridiculous cat tree, far more graceful than any creature had a right to be. “Spoiled things.”

Felix yawned, alerting me that he was awake. He gave my arm a little kiss that sent my pulse skittering. Then he wiggled, his chin digging in—and he peered up at me through the dark fringe of his lashes. His blinks were slow and sluggish.

Without thinking, I reached down to stroke a hand through his hair—like I’d done to the cats.

Felix smiled, humming softly as he tipped into the touch. “I’ve never slept beside someone else before,” he admitted.

My heart skipped a beat.

He was so damn pretty, he distracted me from the train wreck that was about to happen. God, his lips looked soft. Kissable. I wanted to lick them like I’d planned. Very badly.

Then his sleepy smile flickered in confusion—the same time he glanced at my laptop screen and saw—oh shit.

He saw my collage.

The one Harold had called “creepy.”

And my life flashed before my eyes.

Chapter fifteen

My pulse skittered.

My heart lurched.

Abort, abort, abort.

He found out. He found out! He’s seen it. He’s going to freak out. I’m screwed, I’m screwed, I’m screwed.




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books