Free Wish Her Well by Meg Silver

out for balance, and a water bottle sat upright on his forehead.
    She missed bursting out laughing at the unguarded scene by a hair’s breadth. It was agony to stay quiet and she would have walked in to announce her presence if Scott hadn’t started to talk.
    He glanced over at Thomas, apparently finding nothing unusual about his balancing act. “I wonder if anyone has ever lost their shit, waiting for something to break.”
    “I lost it over paperwork, once,” Thomas told him.
    “You ever lose it at the other job? You’re on set what… Four days a week?”
    “Used to be. More like two, these days.”
    “But don’t you ever get bored doing the same fantasies over and over again?”
    Thomas corrected his balance, one hand reflexively jerking as the bottle wobbled. “Sometimes.”
    “So do you have a girlfriend on the side or anything? I mean, how does that work? Doesn’t it ruin sex? And don’t women freak out if they find out about the Fantasy Heights gig?”
    “Right, ’cuz I have a personal life.”
    “So, what about when you want something different? Do you ever book your own fantasies?”
    “I used to, back in the day.”
    “What about now?”
    He scoffed. “After three years at that place, my idea of sexual fantasy involves pizza, watching a movie and falling asleep on the couch.”
    “Dude. That’s tragic. Especially when you work with Amanda. I would be four hours early for every booking.”
    Thomas’s feet lifted and his arms twitched, and for a second she feared he’d go over backward. When he’d steadied himself, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I wonder what she likes on her pizza.”
    When she stepped forward and walked through the doorway to say, “Pepperoni and mushrooms,” the inevitable happened. She scooted behind Thomas in time to get her hands under his shoulders and stop him from cracking his skull on the floor.
    He caught the bottle when it toppled over.
    Scott never moved from his hunched position. “This is my embarrassed face.”
    Thomas came around the chair. He looked trapped and concerned at once. Also surprised and uncertain before shutting down any hint of emotion on his features. “What’s wrong?”
    She shook her head. “Sorry to drop in like this. I needed to talk to you.”
    He continued to stare, his eyes narrowing. “How did you find this place?”
    “I had help.” Finally, she greeted Scott. “Hey. How’ve you been?”
    He looked at Thomas first, as if for permission to speak. Then he shrugged a shoulder. “I’d be better if there was pizza.”
    She managed a smile, even while she could feel Thomas’s eyes examining every tiny gesture, every millimeter of her face and body. She withstood the suspicious inspection, feeling a swell of resentment. How dare he distrust her when he was keeping so many secrets? Why had he been with Gail Warnous? Why had he prepared for Steph’s coup against Andrew West? Why had he stopped talking to Josh and above all, was it possible that Wade was right, and someone had gotten to him?
    He looked no different. White shirt open at the collar. Undershirt. Jeans, combat boots again. Shadowed jawline, hair going every which way, and inky black eyes sharp and alert.
    All in all, delectable. But she was learning to see him as more than the savage or the agent. There was a person in there. A slippery, cagey, distrustful person, sure, but human. The man was tired. No doubt edgy and anxious and worried like everyone else. He was just better at ignoring it. And maybe she was a fool to believe in him, but he wouldn’t betray Josh or his old partner by allowing himself to fall under someone else’s influence, would he?
    He reached out to lift her chin so she was forced to make eye contact, and that, she couldn’t withstand. She wanted to blurt out the questions. Hide nothing.
    His smartphone made sure she wouldn’t get the chance. The singsong ringtone went off. He tensed up. Regardless, for a moment it appeared he