Page 75 of The Money Shot
Chapter Thirty-Five
Liam
Jack’s eyes locked on mine, dark and unreadable, and I felt every inch of my skin flush under his gaze. My heart felt like it was about to burst out of my chest—a mixture of hope, terror, and something I could only call longing.
For weeks, I’d been trying to bury the truth, but now, standing this close to him, it was impossible to ignore. I was in love with Jack. Deep, terrifying, all-consuming love. And it scared the hell out of me.
But more than fear, there was this tiny, stupid glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.
I cleared my throat, trying to channel some version of myself that didn’t exist. A seductive, confident Liam—a guy who could make someone like Jack Barrett weak in the knees. “So,” I said, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe in what I hoped was a casual way, “are you just going to stand there and stare, or do you want to, um, shoot another video?”
The words felt clumsy, like I was reading from a bad script, and I almost cringed. Seduction didn’t come naturally to me; I was more of a nervous-ramble-until-someone-told-me-to-shut-up kind of guy. But Jack’s lips twitched into a small,knowing smile, and something flickered in his eyes—something I desperately wanted to believe was desire.
“You’re different,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. His gaze roamed over me, making me feel exposed and uncertain. “More confident.”
Was I? God, I didn’t feel confident. I felt like a house of cards waiting for the slightest breeze to send me tumbling. But if that’s what he saw, I wasn’t arguing. I swallowed hard and took a small step closer to him, watching his throat work as he swallowed too.
“Maybe I’m just figuring out what I want,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. And then I did something bold—something reckless. I reached out, lightly trailing my fingers along the edge of his jaw.
Jack inhaled sharply, and for a moment, everything else fell away. His trembling hand came up to my cheek, his palm warm against my skin. I leaned into his touch, my breath hitching as his thumb brushed over my cheekbone. His eyes searched mine, like he was looking for permission, or courage, or both.
I didn’t give him a chance to hesitate. Taking a deep breath, I opened my arms, silently inviting him in. For a moment, he froze, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he stepped forward, closing the gap between us. His hands slid to my waist, and then his lips were on mine, warm and insistent.
It was everything. The world tilted, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t feel like the awkward, fumbling guy who never quite measured up. I felt wanted. Needed. Loved, even if he hadn’t said the words.
My hands slid up his back, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. His fingers dug into my sides, like he was afraid I might disappear. I wasn’t going anywhere. Not now, not ever—at least, not if I had anything to say about it.
But then, as quickly as it started, it was over. Jack pulled back abruptly, his breathing ragged. My eyes flew open, panic seizing my chest. “What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice cracking.
He held up a finger, motioning for me to be quiet. “Listen,” he said.
I frowned, straining to hear what he was talking about. That’s when it hit me: silence. The apartment, which had been buzzing with the chaotic energy of Moira and Nessa not ten minutes ago, was now eerily quiet. Too quiet.
Jack’s eyes darted toward the living room, then back to me. He pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for me to stay silent, and began tiptoeing down the hallway. I followed close behind, my heart pounding for entirely different reasons now.
When we reached the living room, it was empty. The laptop was still open on the coffee table, but Nessa and Moira were nowhere in sight. I glanced at Jack, who looked just as confused as I felt.
“Did they leave?” I whispered. “Without saying anything?”
Before Jack could answer, a high-pitched scream tore through the air, making both of us jump. Our heads snapped toward the balcony, and what we saw made my stomach lurch.
Nessa was gripping Moira’s arm, practically dragging her back from the edge of the balcony wall. Moira, pale as a sheet, looked like she was about to pass out.
We rushed over, my heart in my throat. “What the hell is going on?” Jack demanded.
Nessa rolled her eyes, her grip on Moira unwavering. “This one,” she said, jerking her head toward Moira, “thought she could climb up and peek into the bedroom window. Said she wanted to catch the ‘live show.’ Idiot didn’t realize the wall doesn’t extend far enough, and she nearly fell off.”
I glanced over the edge and immediately regretted it. Ten floors up, the ground looked impossibly far away. I swallowedhard, my knees feeling like jelly. “Jesus, Moira,” I said. “You could’ve killed yourself.”
Moira, still shaking, managed a weak, “Sorry.”
Nessa wasn’t having it. “Girl, they film every time they get naked. Don’t kill yourself for a free preview,” she snapped, finally letting go of Moira’s arm.
Moira stumbled back onto the balcony, her face a mix of embarrassment and lingering terror. She muttered another apology, but Nessa was already scooping up her purse and the laptop from the living room.
“Come on,” she said, grabbing Moira’s arm again. “We’re leaving before you do something even dumber.”
Moira allowed herself to be dragged toward the door, shooting one last sheepish look in our direction. Jack and I stood frozen, watching as Nessa’s sharp voice faded down the hallway, bitching at Moira the entire way.