Hearts on Air
Page 57
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Trev’s gaze started at my bare feet, travelled up my legs, lingered on my thighs and hips, stomach and breasts, before coming to rest on my eyes. He braced himself where he stood, arms outspread as he gripped either side of the doorframe. He seemed to be having an internal struggle when he tore his eyes from mine to stare at the floor for a minute. When he looked back up his expression was fierce.
“Invite me in.”
His plea made me feel powerful, a foreign sensation. With Trev, I’d always felt needy and weak, grateful and eager for whatever bit of attention he decided to bestow upon me. Maybe it was the tequila, or maybe it was just the night itself, but I enjoyed the power shift. Probably a little too much.
I smiled at him wickedly, and slowly, seductively, walked toward him, closing the few feet of space between us. I sent him a hot, sexy look and he let out a shaky sigh. Then I reached out, grabbed the door handle and slowly closed it over.
“Goodnight, Trevor,” I said sweetly, allowing him one last look at me before the door clicked shut.
I smiled happily when I heard him thump his head against the wood. He let out a sound that was half groan, half-amused chuckle, before he replied, “Goodnight, Reya.”
The following morning, I woke up hangover free. Thank you, tequila. Wine gave me hangovers. For some reason, tequila didn’t. I still felt tired though, the previous evening’s excitement had taken its toll on my body, and the group had a full day of filming ahead of them.
I wondered why Barry hadn’t argued against them going out. Then again, the crew had captured some highly entertaining footage, so maybe he considered the hangovers worth it.
Leanne’s bed was messy but empty on the other side of the room. I heard water running and guessed she was in the shower. The floor was scattered with mud and grass, as were the heels I wore last night. They lay haphazardly at the foot of my bed, a casualty of the previous evening.
A knock sounded on the door before Trev’s voice crooned, “I do believe I’m owed some pancakes, Reya dearest.”
I smiled, then remembered my out-of-character striptease. What the hell had gotten into me? I shook my head, determined not to be embarrassed, even though the memory of Trev’s hot stare still sent tremors down my spine.
“Give me a minute to wake up properly and then I’ll make your bloody pancakes,” I called back. God, I was tired.
I heard him chuckle as he continued down the hall. Once I was dressed I made pancakes for everyone. I figured it factored into my PA duties to keep the group well fed. Trev stared at me with this knowing grin all through breakfast, like he was remembering me in my underwear in vivid detail. I just shook my head at his typical boy behaviour, while at the same time, I sensed the energy shifting between us. Our conversation last night brought me closer to understanding him and the changes he was making in his life. And there was no denying those changes were a positive thing.
“Did this used to be a train track or something?” I asked Neil.
“Yep. I think it got refurbished back in the nineties but don’t quote me on that,” he answered as we stared at the impressive structure.
We were at the Viaduc Des Arts, the location for the day’s filming. It was an old red-brick viaduct, consisting of a long row of arches under what used to be a train track. Now it was a public garden, surrounded by apartments, fancy cafes and shops. It was pretty high up, which I guessed was why they selected it for the show.
Trev approached me from behind while I finalised the group’s lunch order on my phone. “You’re wearing jeans,” he murmured accusingly, like it was a crime or something.
I crooked my neck to send him a questioning glance. “And?”
“I don’t need that kind of distraction today.”
It took only a second for his meaning to sink in and I rubbed my hands on my thighs, self-conscious. I didn’t think anything of it when I put them on this morning, but now I wondered if they were maybe a little too tight.
I quickly shook myself out of those thoughts. If Trev was distracted by my jeans that was his problem.
“I’m not forcing you to look them,” I shot back defensively.
He sat on the ground and started stretching, his gaze travelling all the way up my legs. “Yeah, but I’m my own worst enemy sometimes.”
Neil was studying his tablet, acting like he wasn’t listening, but I knew he was. I cleared my throat.
“So, how are you feeling? Not too sore after last night?”
Trev smirked and leaned forward into another stretch. Neil stiffened and I wanted to facepalm. “I mean, because of the alcohol. It dehydrates muscles and that’s why they sometimes ache after we drink,” I extrapolated unnecessarily.
“I’m fine. I only had one drink,” he replied.
Thinking back on it, he was right. Maybe it just felt like he had more because of all the action going on.
“Was that a, um, conscious decision?” He had mentioned he was drinking less.
It took him a while to answer. “Yes.”
“I see.”
I wondered if drinking worsened his condition. I knew from experience that he could get very wild when he drank in the past. If dealing with a sober Trev was a handful, then dealing with a drunk Trev was a job for ten men. Maybe more.
“Trev, I need you over here,” Barry called.
“Be there in a sec,” he answered then looked at me. “Come over and watch on the monitor. That way you’ll get to see everything and not just what’s in your line of sight.”
“Okay, sure,” I said and followed him.
Barry’s monitor was set up at the bottom of a long concrete stairway, which led to the public gardens. Paul, Callum, Leanne and James were all gathered around him, nodding as he gave directions. I stood a few feet away, where there was a decent view of the monitor and watched as Trev joined the others.
When Barry finally called action, the group vaulted up the stairway two at a time, with James bringing up the rear. Everything moved so fast. A number of the crew were up top, capturing all five of them as they shot through the gardens. They hadn’t completely shut the place down to the public, so there were still people hanging around, sitting on benches chatting, or walking along the pathways.
The camera caught Trev as he headed for the narrow ridge along the outer edge of the viaduct. It must’ve been over thirty feet high. Some of the crew were on the roofs higher up, enabling them to capture the full extent of the drop.
“Invite me in.”
His plea made me feel powerful, a foreign sensation. With Trev, I’d always felt needy and weak, grateful and eager for whatever bit of attention he decided to bestow upon me. Maybe it was the tequila, or maybe it was just the night itself, but I enjoyed the power shift. Probably a little too much.
I smiled at him wickedly, and slowly, seductively, walked toward him, closing the few feet of space between us. I sent him a hot, sexy look and he let out a shaky sigh. Then I reached out, grabbed the door handle and slowly closed it over.
“Goodnight, Trevor,” I said sweetly, allowing him one last look at me before the door clicked shut.
I smiled happily when I heard him thump his head against the wood. He let out a sound that was half groan, half-amused chuckle, before he replied, “Goodnight, Reya.”
The following morning, I woke up hangover free. Thank you, tequila. Wine gave me hangovers. For some reason, tequila didn’t. I still felt tired though, the previous evening’s excitement had taken its toll on my body, and the group had a full day of filming ahead of them.
I wondered why Barry hadn’t argued against them going out. Then again, the crew had captured some highly entertaining footage, so maybe he considered the hangovers worth it.
Leanne’s bed was messy but empty on the other side of the room. I heard water running and guessed she was in the shower. The floor was scattered with mud and grass, as were the heels I wore last night. They lay haphazardly at the foot of my bed, a casualty of the previous evening.
A knock sounded on the door before Trev’s voice crooned, “I do believe I’m owed some pancakes, Reya dearest.”
I smiled, then remembered my out-of-character striptease. What the hell had gotten into me? I shook my head, determined not to be embarrassed, even though the memory of Trev’s hot stare still sent tremors down my spine.
“Give me a minute to wake up properly and then I’ll make your bloody pancakes,” I called back. God, I was tired.
I heard him chuckle as he continued down the hall. Once I was dressed I made pancakes for everyone. I figured it factored into my PA duties to keep the group well fed. Trev stared at me with this knowing grin all through breakfast, like he was remembering me in my underwear in vivid detail. I just shook my head at his typical boy behaviour, while at the same time, I sensed the energy shifting between us. Our conversation last night brought me closer to understanding him and the changes he was making in his life. And there was no denying those changes were a positive thing.
“Did this used to be a train track or something?” I asked Neil.
“Yep. I think it got refurbished back in the nineties but don’t quote me on that,” he answered as we stared at the impressive structure.
We were at the Viaduc Des Arts, the location for the day’s filming. It was an old red-brick viaduct, consisting of a long row of arches under what used to be a train track. Now it was a public garden, surrounded by apartments, fancy cafes and shops. It was pretty high up, which I guessed was why they selected it for the show.
Trev approached me from behind while I finalised the group’s lunch order on my phone. “You’re wearing jeans,” he murmured accusingly, like it was a crime or something.
I crooked my neck to send him a questioning glance. “And?”
“I don’t need that kind of distraction today.”
It took only a second for his meaning to sink in and I rubbed my hands on my thighs, self-conscious. I didn’t think anything of it when I put them on this morning, but now I wondered if they were maybe a little too tight.
I quickly shook myself out of those thoughts. If Trev was distracted by my jeans that was his problem.
“I’m not forcing you to look them,” I shot back defensively.
He sat on the ground and started stretching, his gaze travelling all the way up my legs. “Yeah, but I’m my own worst enemy sometimes.”
Neil was studying his tablet, acting like he wasn’t listening, but I knew he was. I cleared my throat.
“So, how are you feeling? Not too sore after last night?”
Trev smirked and leaned forward into another stretch. Neil stiffened and I wanted to facepalm. “I mean, because of the alcohol. It dehydrates muscles and that’s why they sometimes ache after we drink,” I extrapolated unnecessarily.
“I’m fine. I only had one drink,” he replied.
Thinking back on it, he was right. Maybe it just felt like he had more because of all the action going on.
“Was that a, um, conscious decision?” He had mentioned he was drinking less.
It took him a while to answer. “Yes.”
“I see.”
I wondered if drinking worsened his condition. I knew from experience that he could get very wild when he drank in the past. If dealing with a sober Trev was a handful, then dealing with a drunk Trev was a job for ten men. Maybe more.
“Trev, I need you over here,” Barry called.
“Be there in a sec,” he answered then looked at me. “Come over and watch on the monitor. That way you’ll get to see everything and not just what’s in your line of sight.”
“Okay, sure,” I said and followed him.
Barry’s monitor was set up at the bottom of a long concrete stairway, which led to the public gardens. Paul, Callum, Leanne and James were all gathered around him, nodding as he gave directions. I stood a few feet away, where there was a decent view of the monitor and watched as Trev joined the others.
When Barry finally called action, the group vaulted up the stairway two at a time, with James bringing up the rear. Everything moved so fast. A number of the crew were up top, capturing all five of them as they shot through the gardens. They hadn’t completely shut the place down to the public, so there were still people hanging around, sitting on benches chatting, or walking along the pathways.
The camera caught Trev as he headed for the narrow ridge along the outer edge of the viaduct. It must’ve been over thirty feet high. Some of the crew were on the roofs higher up, enabling them to capture the full extent of the drop.
