Headliners by Lucy Parker

Author:Lucy Parker [Parker, Lucy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-21T18:18:11+00:00

Chapter Eleven

13 Days until Christmas Eve

A ringing sound was jabbing sharply at Nick’s consciousness. He grunted and rolled over to bury his face deeper into warm silkiness. A leg slid against his, and wiggly little fingers pushed up under his shirt, spreading against his ribs.

Breath dusting across his throat. The faint abrasiveness of lace under his hand. A few shades of sleep slipped away, rational thought trying to break through the mists of exhaustion. The ringing stopped, and he stroked the lace approvingly and curled over the body cuddled into his.

A sudden pang from the muscles in his neck brought one eye open a crack. And then the ringing began again, sounding even louder than before.

He came fully awake with a jolt. He was not a morning person, but he was starting to get used to the early starts. For once, he went from zero to sixty, taking in his surroundings with a glance. He was sprawled sideways on his couch, which was not designed for an all-nighter—if that term applied when you got up at this hour—and Sabrina was fast asleep, tucked into his side. Her arm was bent under her head, covered with a rumpled mass of red curls; her other hand was cupping his pec. She breathed quietly and steadily, her lips slightly parted, mascara smudged beneath her lashes. As he looked down at her, the tempo of his heart thudded faster against her palm.

He then simultaneously realised that he had his hand on her breast and his phone was ringing on the coffee table.

Glancing over at the clock on the kitchen wall—“Shit.” He disentangled himself enough that he could lean forward and snatch up the phone. “Kyle,” he said to the studio driver who picked him up every morning, and reached over to run his fingertip down the bridge of Sabrina’s freckled nose, rubbing until her eyelashes flickered open. Even in the lamplight, her eyes were shockingly green. “Sorry, mate, we’re running late. Be down in five.”

“No worries,” the cheerful young man responded, and added, with a teasing note, “‘We’re’?”

Nick winced and ran his hand over his face, feeling the thick rasp of stubble. “You’re doing a double today and bringing Sabrina, as well.” His brain clicked fully into gear. “Could you do us a favour and give her driver a call? He’s probably over at her flat right now.”

Her sleepy face starting to morph into horror, Sabrina got up and stumbled over to the table by the door, where she fished out her phone as Nick ended his call.

“Battery’s dead,” she said, throwing it back in her bag. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” She looked down at her rumpled clothes. “I’ll have to go like this. Oh, God, I don’t even have a toothbrush. My breath could probably fell an elephant right now.” She looked up hopefully. “Do you have spares?”

“I hate to discredit the usual tabloid rumours, but my private life isn’t quite active enough to warrant that.”

“Well, that’s inconvenient,” Sabrina said crossly, rubbing her eyes.

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