Page 3 of On Set

When no one answered, I let myself in to wait. My ass had barely hit the cushions of the couch when Eli Simms walked out of the bedroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets shimmering on his bronzed chest.

He looked like a god.

Not a single picture I’d seen of him did his body justice.

And I’ve seen them all. I’m a bit of a gossip rag enthusiast. I read them all, especially when Eli’s face graces the cover. The pictures are too tempting to turn down.

Chiseled abdomen. Deep, muscular cuts that drew my attention to where the white towel was tucked around his hips. My eyes traveled lower without permission, causing a blush to creep into my cheeks when he cleared his throat.

Pushing myself to stand, I took one step toward him, my hand outstretched in greeting. My stare focused on his forehead because I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes. As soon as he was within reach, I tripped over my own two feet, my body lunging toward him. Unprepared for my assault, Eli went down, and I landed on top of him.

As far as first impressions go, it wasn’t the kind I wanted to make, but I’d say I made a memorable one.

Then, to add icing to my already toppled over cake, when I scrambled to get off him, I kneed him in the balls.

Yup.

He’ll never forget me for as long as he lives. If he can’t have children one day, I’ll be to blame.

Since then, I’ve blushed every time I look in his direction. Visions of his half-naked body have consumed my every thought. All rational thought has left my body. I’ve been daydreaming about Eli, what he was hiding under his towel, and what it would be like to be consumed by a man like him.

Which is why I can’t seem to stay on my feet in his presence.

Off-kilter doesn’t even begin to explain how I’m feeling. I despise everything he stands for. Men like him are the reason I don’t date. You can’t get your heart broken if you don’t put it out there.

“Hello!” I hear someone scream into my phone as I breach the garage doors of the sound stage.

Great. Eli’s distracted me again.

“I’m sorry. I’m here,” I quickly apologize. “Catering needs to be set up in building A. Ansen wants to break for lunch in ten minutes.”

Well, probably five minutes now but I can’t tell her that.

“Got it. We were waiting for your call.”

She hangs up before I can thank her. Knowing the truck will be rounding the corner any minute with lunch, I lean against the building and wait. Steve’s voice carries over the buzz of activity. He’s screaming Celia’s name. Again.

He may want lunch in a few minutes, but I have a feeling it’ll be cold before anyone touches it.

Which means I have time to answer a few emails and text messages from this morning.

AUSTIN: How’s your first day going? Did you meet the hottie yet?

ME: Stressful. Yes. He seems nice.

HAYDEN: Did she just say he was nice?

Great. A group text. This should be interesting.

ME: I did because he is. And forgiving apparently. I may have lost my grace and accidentally knocked him on his ass then kneed him in the balls.

AUSTIN: You always did make a great first impression. That’s why we’re friends.

HAYDEN: I second that.

AUSTIN: Was it hard?

ME: Was what hard?