my number, Peach. If you ever need anything, call me, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered, heart and hormones in a frenzy. He’d given her a nickname. She wrapped her arms around him and held tight, giving herself a full five seconds, before forcing herself to release Beat and step back. “Same for you.” She struggled to keep her breathing at a normal pace.
“Call me if you ever need someone who understands.” The next part wouldn’t stay tucked inside her. “We can pretend we’ve been best friends all along.”
To her relief, that lopsided smile was back. “It wouldn’t be so hard, Mel.”
A bell rang somewhere on the set, breaking the spell. Everyone flurried into motion around them. Beat was swept in one direction; Melody in the other. But her pulse didn’t stop pounding for hours after their encounter.
True to his word, Beat found a way to provide her with his number, through an assistant at the end of her interview. She could never find the courage to use it, though. Not even on her most difficult days. And he never called her either.
That was the beginning and the end of her fairy-tale association with Beat Dawkins.
Or so she thought.
Want more?
Find Wreck the Halls here: https://tinyurl.com/tessawreckthehalls.