Fox tore his eyes quickly off Hannah, feeling guilty for even looking at her while having this discussion. “Hey.” He shrugged. “I still think it should have earned me extra credit toward my physical education grade.”
Sanders laughed and went back to work.
So did Fox, but his movements weren’t as fluid, cranks turning on either side of his forehead. Eventually he found himself braced on the edge of the boat, seeking out Hannah once again, watching as she talked to a sharp brunette. He could tell by Hannah’s body language that something was off. Wrong.
Was that the soundtrack lady?
Had the songs come back for Hannah?
He could have asked her about it this morning instead of trying to divert her focus from his insecurities to something he was not insecure over in the slightest—sex. Too late for regrets now. Too late to worry about how his best friend would react if he knew Fox had talked to Piper’s little sister about jacking off while he was wearing nothing but briefs and a smile.
Brendan was still clearly worried that Fox would make a move on Hannah. Despite the Talk. Despite common decency and the fact that touching her would almost definitely be unforgivable. But no one expected good behavior out of him. Not Brendan, not the people in town, the crew, anyone. Sanders had just neatly reminded Fox of that. Reminded him of it so well, he felt like a shower was in order.
No one trusted him. So the hell with it. Why try in the first place? A leopard couldn’t change its spots.
A few minutes later when a visibly frustrated Hannah started speed walking to his apartment, Fox knew more than enough about women to recognize her problem. The flushed skin, the way she kept sneaking him covert looks. Lifting the hair off her neck to fan herself. She was turned on, frustrated. Horny. And that was one issue he damn well knew how to fix. What was the point of resisting?
Last night with the men outside Blow the Man Down, this morning with Sanders—hell, every day of his life—proved he couldn’t outrun the notions about him. Giving in to his attraction to Hannah would serve him twofold. He could scratch this goddamn seven-month itch and cut off her bid to discover what really made him tick. One hookup with Hannah would bring everything back to surface level, where he was comfortable.
Hannah might still want the director. But hey, Fox’s college girlfriend had used him as a hall pass—without his knowledge—for the better part of a year. No reason Hannah couldn’t use him for the same purpose, right? Just a meaningless good time.
Despite the fact that he was breathing through the hole of a straw, Fox didn’t even bother putting on his shirt before he followed Hannah to his apartment.
Chapter Ten
There was no formal plan in regard to how she would be observing Brinley. That meant it was up to Hannah to create her own opportunities, in between wrangling actors, instructing the extras, and making sure lunch deliveries were going to arrive exactly right. Pickles on this one, no pickles on the other. Why was it always pickles? It was right there in the name—they can be picked off.
Christian was extra grouchy this morning thanks to his boyfriend’s visit to Westport getting delayed, and the mood appeared to be contagious. It was clear from the dark circles under everyone’s eyes that most of the crew had overindulged on Saturday night, and of course, a seagull shat on Maxine’s head, delaying production by an hour while it was cleaned out, the actress restyled.
Hannah decided to use the lost hour to her advantage.
The moment there was a lull in her responsibilities, Hannah approached the music coordinator where she sat in a chair beside Sergei’s vacant one.
“Morning, Brinley,” she said, smiling.
A cool once-over. “Oh, hey.” She scanned the notes in her lap. “Hannah, right?”
“Yes.”
For no other reason than the boat was visible right over Brinley’s shoulder, Hannah’s gaze strayed to the Della Ray, where it sat docked in the harbor. It was not the first time she’d looked since arriving on set. In fact, everyone and their mother was staring at Fox and his godlike body glistening in the sunshine. His physique was the only thing saving the cranky cast and crew from turning to cannibalism this fine Sunday morning. Moreover, he didn’t seem aware of the distraction he created, just casually sucking up everyone’s already limited concentration.
Even Brinley lowered her sunglasses and threw a glance or two toward the boat before refocusing on Hannah . . . who was definitely not thinking about the fact that she’d been in the same apartment while Fox cleared his pipes.