Читать книгу Hollywood Hills Collection - Lynne Marshall, Amalie Berlin - Страница 21

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘WHY DON’T YOU ditch the hotel?’ Freya said.

She shouldn’t have.

It was six a.m. and they lay chatting in the dark, talking about, of all things, his suits.

‘How much can you get into a backpack?’ Freya had asked. And then she’d found out he bought suits and that, when he moved on, he donated them.

‘It’s an expensive wardrobe.’

‘Yeah, well, it’s an up-to-date one.’

And then he’d admitted that living out of a backpack was tiring at times, and had been about to say he was actually looking forward to going home for a few weeks, when someone, namely Freya, who had to fix everything this very minute, suggested he move in.

‘Freya,’ he half groaned in frustration.

‘I’m not asking you to move in as in live together, just...’ She could have kicked herself.

Zack just lay there.

‘Forget it,’ Freya said. ‘I was just thinking out loud.’

She simply could not stop thinking.

About them.

‘I’m going to take Cleo out.’

Freya stood in her dressing gown and she was too embarrassed to even admit to Cleo what she’d just said to Zack.

‘It’s not such a stupid idea,’ Freya said hopefully to her friend, but then gave in.

Oh, it was such a stupid idea and, of all things, to say it on the first night that he’d come back to her apartment.

Freya was worried, though.

The clock was ticking on them and not only couldn’t she imagine him gone, Freya was rather worried that there might be a more permanent reason for them to keep in touch.

She felt sick.

Not a nervous sick feeling, more there was a taste in her mouth as she came back into the apartment.

Cleo waddled into the bedroom and Zack lay there with his hands behind his head as she jumped up onto the bed.

He was leaving LA at the end of his three months.

He looked around the bedroom and he knew that he needed to head back to the hotel.

‘Hi.’ Freya came in, trying desperately to detract from the prior conversation. ‘I just got an email...’ Zack blinked, he was just waking up but Freya was in busy mode. ‘Do you remember when you were in Canada a few years back and that hockey player went into cardiac arrest...’

Zack nodded. ‘Why?’

‘Well, I was just trying for a new angle. I get that you don’t want to be photographed with kids, but he’s here in LA and I thought we could get the two of you together.’

‘Freya,’ Zack said, sitting up, ‘how many ways can I say it? I don’t want to be a part of your publicity stunts. I’ll do the surgery—’

‘It’s just such a great opportunity.’

‘I don’t get involved, Freya, they don’t owe me anything. I do my best for them in Theatre, without obligation. I don’t want to be making small talk with some guy who had the misfortune to go into cardiac arrest in front of ten thousand people and now has to feel he needs to publicly thank me for doing my job.’

Freya gave a tight shrug. ‘Just trying to do mine.’

‘It’s Sunday,’ he pointed out. ‘And I only get one off a month.’

‘Sure.’ Freya nodded. ‘Do you want some breakfast? I’m just making some.’

‘A coffee would be great.’

He lay back on the bed again. She’d be in soon with a needle and thread to try and hem him in.

Cleo waddled up to his chest and stared at him with her big pug eyes and he stroked her head and thought, What the hell am I doing?

He’d told her stuff last night that he could never have envisaged telling another, he had made love, and Zack had not lied with his mouth, he’d adored her.

It was all too close, and that was the very thing he avoided.

He didn’t want to be tied down like his brother had been, or chained to a town as his father was. They were getting far too close and another couple of months of this and, Zack wasn’t stupid, his leaving was going to hurt her.

And no hurt had ever been intended.

It was time to call it now, Zack knew, before they got in any deeper than they were.

Cleo bared her teeth.

She just stared him down and bared her teeth and it was as if she warned him, in or out?

‘Cleo!’ Freya threatened from the kitchen when she heard her growl. She went to make coffee but found she had none. Coffee wasn’t something she drank but she generally kept some in case of company.

She added it to the list she kept on her phone and divided the drink she’d blended into two glasses as the toast popped up. For the first time in the kitchen she was distracted. Freya had bigger problems on her mind than food for once, and instead of preparing just one plate she made two plates and smeared on some avocado she’d mashed and added a shake of black pepper.

She would go and get a pregnancy kit today and get this over and done with. Maybe when she’d found out it was a false alarm she could relax. Freya carried the tray into the bedroom. ‘I was thinking, maybe today we...’ And then she stopped because Zack was sitting on the edge of the bed with his jeans and boots on and he was pulling on his T-shirt.

‘I need to get back to the hotel,’ Zack said. ‘There’s some work I need—’

‘It’s Sunday,’ Freya pointed out, just as he had.

‘Yep.’

‘Have some breakfast.’

‘I don’t generally eat breakfast, and definitely not green ones.’ He was direct, he was honest and, yes, it hurt a lot. ‘It’s all too much, Freya.’

‘Zack—’

‘Freya, I made it clear. I don’t want a relationship, I don’t want someone making plans for my day off, I don’t want to have to account—’

‘You’re annoyed because I suggested you move out of the hotel.’

‘A bit,’ Zack said. ‘Do you know why I like it there, Freya?’ He looked at the tray she’d prepared. ‘If I ask for coffee, I get coffee. When I put the “Do not disturb” sign on the door, guess what? They don’t disturb...’

They weren’t talking about coffee or signs on the door, Freya knew.

Zack didn’t want more than sex. He’d been upfront from the start and she had been more than willing to go along with it.

It was Freya whose wants had changed.

And he told himself that on the drive back to the hotel.

Last night had been amazing—dinner, conversation and the sex had been amazing.

More than amazing.

He wanted to turn the hired car around and go back there. He wanted to have a decent row with Freya and tell her to get out of fixing and sorting mode and get back to bed.

Zack got back to the hotel, went up in the elevator and then passed the maid with her trolley, doling out the toiletries so that five hundred guests smelt the same.

Then he stepped into the room that had been beautifully serviced and he thought about heading out for the day. Just driving into the hills, or taking a walk along the beach.

He needed a shower, he smelt of sex, or rather he smelt of Freya.

Zack did everything on his to-do list. He showered, changed and then headed for the hills, and that evening, instead of the hotel bar, he took a walk on the beach and told himself that this was the life he had chosen. And he had chosen it carefully. He never wanted to be tied down, or have people reliant on or beholden to him.

Not his patients—he fixed what he could and let them get on with their lives.

Not his family—they all knew how that had worked out.

And certainly he did not need someone who decided what he might want to eat for breakfast!

Damned cheek, Zack decided, and headed back to the hotel.

He went to the bar because it really was that easy, only it wasn’t so easy tonight because he didn’t want company.

Only his own.

Back up to his room he went and the bed had been turned down, the towels and soaps all replaced, and Zack found himself kicking his backpack across the room.