As she concentrated on breathing, her tremors slowed. And finally stopped. She snuggled into him and he couldn’t resist brushing his lips across the top of her head.
They remained entwined for several long minutes.
She spoke first. “You probably think I’m a wuss.”
“You? A wuss? Ain’t you the woman who threatened to kick my ass just a couple days ago while you were buck-ass nekkid?”
“It was a bluff. I was scared out of my mind, seeing a strange guy in my room, and I blurted out the first thing that popped into my head.”
His hand stopped the stroking motion on her back. “So you don’t have a black belt in taekwondo?”
“No. I once played a character who rocked at martial arts. I trained the minimum amount so it’d look like a pro onscreen.” She paused. “You really thought I could hurt you?”
“Yes. Damn fine actin’ job, Hollywood.”
“Well, I am a professional.”
He chuckled.
Ava rubbed her cheek against his pectoral. “Thanks for not laughing at me, Chase.”
“I’m not that kinda guy.” He started caressing her back again. “That said, please don’t ever use your actin’ talent on this gullible cowboy, okay?”
She lifted her head and said, “I won’t,” then snuggled into him.
Chase closed his eyes, enjoying Ava’s soft curves melting into him and smelling her orange blossom scented lotion. After he’d seen the bottle in the bathroom at Kane’s place, he told himself he wasn’t perverted if he picked it up and sniffed it a couple of times.
“So have you told any of your LA friends about your big adventure out west?”
“No one to tell.”
“Really?”
“Sounds weird. You’d think I’d have a multitude of friends, right? Since I’m a Native Californian, a TV actress, a tabloid target. Ooh, and let’s not forget a rich girl.” She shifted slightly, almost as if she intended to get up.
Chase pressed his palm between her shoulder blades as a sign he didn’t want her to run out, and surprisingly, that seemed to calm her. “So why are you rolling in dough but not friends?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I got nowhere to be, darlin’, so why don’t you help me understand.”
She struggled for a minute before she spoke. “The girls I went to school with are all married with families or they’re focused on their careers. It’s gotten harder and harder to connect with them. Other actresses are so damn competitive that I’m never sure of their motivations for befriending me because it’s always—and I mean always—been for some shady reason. Not to mention the blatant remarks about how I don’t need to work as an actress since I’ve got money in the bank, and I should just bow out and make room for them.”
“Women say shit like that to you?”
Ava huffed out a sigh. “All the time. Which is why I love the camaraderie on movie sets. But that disappears after the film wraps. I doubt I’ll remain in touch with any of the actors from Miller’s Ridge, because it was just a job. That’s the other thing. Shooting a weekly TV show is grueling. When we’re wrapped up for the week, I usually fall comatose in my bed because I haven’t been home and the last thing I want to do is to go out.”
“But you do, right?”
“There are events I’m obligated to attend. Those aren’t so bad. It’s the industry after-parties that make me question people’s honesty and their friendly intentions. Like, are they going to a club with me because they like me and want to spend time with me? Or are they going because they know I’ve got money and expect to party on my dime? Or are they hanging out with me hoping to wind up in one of the trade rags? I mean, my celebrity isn’t worth a whole lot, but it’s worth something.”
“And that makes you question your worth?” he asked gently.
“Yeah.” A pause and then she laughed softly. “I know I sound horribly neurotic. Or ungrateful for the advantages I have simply because of my birthright. I’m not that callous or jaded. It makes it hard to blindly trust people. I end up spending a lot of time alone, sort of trapped by my own mediocre success.” Her fingers traced the ridge of his collarbone. “My so-called issues pale in comparison to what most people have to deal with in their lives, and I feel like a big whiny spoiled baby even talking about it. But I don’t talk about it because I’ve got no one to talk to.”
“I’m glad you’re talkin’ to me.”
“So my blathering doesn’t make you rethink being my friend?”
Not in the way you’re thinking. “Nope. I’m glad we’re friends, Ava.”
“Same here. I’m relieved to have a break from all that crap for a while.”
“How long is a while?”
“I start shooting a movie in Mexico in August. I’m on standby for readings, costumes, all that stuff.”
Chase frowned. “What’s that mean?”
“If they call me, I have to go back to LA immediately.”
“So between me waiting for a callback from the PBR, and you waiting for a callback from a movie studio, either of us could hafta leave at any time?”
“Sounds like it. So we’d better make the most of our time together.”
The old Chase would’ve suggested they spend all that time between the sheets. The new, improved Chase…kept his mouth shut.
“What are your friends like in the PBR?” Ava asked.
“Well, I wouldn’t call them all friends. The majority are good guys, for the most part. Then there are the ones who act one way in the spotlight and after the cameras are gone, act totally different. They talk a good game about their religious beliefs and the cowboy way, and then they’re out at the honky-tonks after every performance trying to rack up as many sin points as possible.”
“Does it bother you?”
“Only if their bad behavior gets them more airtime than me.”
Ava lightly punched him in the stomach. “I’m serious.”
“I am too. I think who we are in public, to some extent, should be the real us, or at least the polished version of ourselves the PR people want us to project. But I also think the most private part of who we are shouldn’t be out there. We should save that part so we have something special about ourselves to share with the people who matter most to us.”