Off the Air (Running on Air Book 1) Read online

  “Oh,” she said, hesitating. “Um, we didn’t really go anywhere. We just spent most of our time trying to find you guys.”

  Somehow, I felt like she was omitting a few details, but I didn’t probe. We stepped into the minivan and James was sitting in the front. I noticed he looked just as tired as Michaela. Something had definitely happened with them last night that she didn’t want to tell me. I just had no idea what.

  James gave her a warm smile, but she didn’t sit next to him, instead sliding in beside me. Cal sat at the back next to Trev, sunglasses on, expression unreadable. After our conversation and almost kiss last night, I thought staying away from him today was a good idea. Smart.

  The van dropped us off in a public park. There were lots of people out and about. My body was sore from my hangover, but I forced myself to perform. The cameras followed as I climbed to the top of a high concrete wall, then completed a backflip down to the ground. Trev, Paul, and James were goofing around on some outdoor exercise equipment, while Cal and Isaac were just behind me. I climbed the wall again, this time walking along the narrow edge. It led to a building that looked like a library. When I was as high as I could get, I jumped to a lower wall, but my step was off and I scraped my shin on the concrete. Swearing loudly, I bent down to check the damage.

  “What happened?” Isaac called from a few feet away.

  “I’m fine. It’s just a scrape.”

  “Come down and let me have a look,” Neil said.

  Last year he’d taken a course in First Aid, since being our assistant usually meant tending to small wounds and mishaps. If we were filming a dangerous stunt, we had a medical team on standby. But not for more casual filming days like today.

  I sat on the grass while Neil pulled out his First Aid kit. He took his time dressing my wound, and I winced when he pressed antiseptic to it.

  “This is a little more than just a scrape,” he chided.

  “I’m tough. I can take it,” I replied, sucking in a harsh breath.

  “I think you have the highest pain threshold of the whole group. The last time Callum twisted his ankle I swear he almost cried like a baby.”

  I chuckled, and speaking of Cal, he hovered nearby, his eyes narrowed on Neil. Here we went again with his stupid suspicion that there was something between us.

  “Don’t look now, but Cal’s staring at you like he wants to rip your head off.”

  “Oh, so it must be Monday,” Neil joked, not letting hostility from Cal phase him. It basically came with the job at this point.

  “I’m sorry he’s such an arsehole to you all the time. It’s mainly my fault. He thinks you fancy me. It’s ridiculous.”

  Neil’s hands stilled for a moment, and then he resumed his work. Oh man, what was that pause about?

  “What if I do fancy you?” he said quietly.

  I froze, my eyes widening.

  Neil looked at me and shook his head in self-depreciation. “Okay, well, you look mortified. So pretend I never said anything.”

  “No,” I rushed to reply. “I’m not mortified. I’m just… surprised. I didn’t expect you to say that.”

  Neil sat back, looking away again. “I shouldn’t have. I work for you. It’s unprofessional and I completely understand if you want to fire me now. It’s just that I’ve liked you for a long time, Leanne, and I’m sick of hiding it. I guess I just needed to put it out there and deal with the consequences.”

  I reached out and grabbed his hand. “No way would I ever fire you. You’re an amazing assistant, but…”

  “But you don’t feel the same way. It’s all right. I get it.”

  “Quit trying to read my mind. It’s just that there’s always been so much drama between Cal and me that I’ve never really had a chance to catch my breath.”

  Some of Neil’s confidence returned. He really was handsome. Not the kind that was noticeable right away. It was something that shone through the more you got to know him. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, his self-depreciation and warm personality.

  Crap, maybe I did like Neil. Last night I’d told Cal my perfect man was someone who was kind, who I could rely on and trust. Neil was all of those things and more.

  “So…?” He hedged.

  “Sorry. I’m just going through a weird period right now. Can we wait until we get back to London and talk then?”

  In translation: I had unresolved feelings for my ex and we were in some kind of emotional limbo that I needed to figure out before I got involved with anyone else.

  Relief flooded his features and he nodded, so reasonable. Was this what it would be like to be with someone who I didn’t feel compelled to fight and argue with all the time? Could a relationship actually be easy with someone who wasn’t Callum Davidson?

  My stupid heart ached in protest at the very question. All it ever seemed to want was Cal, especially after the sweet things he said last night. Silly heart. I needed to retrain it somehow.

  “Leanne, can we talk for a minute?” Cal asked, interrupting.

  I glanced from him to Neil, who gently patted my shin. “You’re good to go.”

  I shot him a grateful smile and stood to face Cal. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Not here,” he said, grabbing my hand and leading me across the park behind the library building. Once we were out of sight, I stopped and folded my arms.

  “You were holding Neil’s hand,” Cal said, his words laced with frustration.

  I arched an eyebrow. “And?”

  Cal gestured wildly. “And can we please stop playing this game? When you talk to him, it drives me crazy, especially when he looks at you all puppy-dog-eyed. I can’t stand it, okay? So, you win. I thought after last night…” he raked a hand through his hair. “I thought we were past this.”

  “I wasn’t playing any game,” I said, speaking sincerely. I didn’t like seeing him so stressed out. “Neil and I were having a private conversation, and you shouldn’t have been watching us in the first place.”

  “Don’t give me that. Of course I fucking watched you. I always watch you. There is literally no situation where I can make myself not watch you, Leanne.”

  I saw a flash of insanity in his eyes and knew it spelled trouble. Before I had the chance to slip away, Cal advanced on me. Lighting quick, he took my face in his hands. His eyes flitted back and forth between mine, searching, then dipped to my mouth. I thought he was going to kiss me, but then, abruptly he let go and moved away.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.”

  Right then, I saw that he was suffering, and I didn’t have it in me to keep being cold. I stepped forward and gripped his forearm, my voice gentle. “You want to quit playing games? Okay, no more games. I promise. But that means the bet is off too. Anything we do around each other from now on will be free from manipulation. Do we have a deal?”

  The sheer relief that flooded him made me wonder why he even made the bet with me in the first place.

  Cal exhaled heavily, his eyes finding mine. “Yes, we have a deal.”

  Unable to resist, I pulled him into a hug, squeezing tight. The hug wasn’t sexual; it represented a truce, a waving of the white flag. Besides, if I was going to consider starting something with Neil in the future, then I really needed to put my baggage with Cal to bed. No more bets, no more torturing one another.

  We needed closure.

  I stepped out of his arms and walked back toward the others. In my peripheral, I saw Celine standing over by a tree. She’d been filming us the whole time, and our microphones would’ve picked up the conversation. Great. This shit making it into the show was all I bloody needed. They were probably filming my conversation with Neil too, and I could just see how Barry would spin the storyline into some kind of love triangle.

  I knew it was hard to believe, but when you were being filmed all day long it was easy to forget the cameras. They became part of the scenery and you found yourself speaking and doing things as openly as you wo
uld in private.

  When we finally got home after a long day of filming, I’d never been more excited to fall into bed. Not only was I physically exhausted, but I was also emotionally stretched thin. It was days like these where I wished for a boyfriend, a real one, who could hug me, rub my feet, and run me a bubble bath. Sometimes being alone was bliss, but other times it just felt like there was this gaping chasm in my chest that yearned for physical comfort and intimacy.

  So yeah, pretty miserable.

  Since everyone had decided to go out for dinner, the house was quiet. Needing sleep, I’d declined to tag along. It had been a hot day and I was sweaty, so I took a quick shower then wrapped up in the thick white complementary bathrobe the guesthouse had provided. Hair still wet, I flopped onto the bed, but as soon as I closed my eyes, my stomach rumbled loudly. Aside from the small sandwich I’d had at lunch, I’d eaten nothing else all day.

  Deciding sleep could wait another twenty minutes, I went down to the kitchen and found some leftovers in the fridge. I opened up a container of meat stew, dumped it in a bowl and popped it into the microwave. I buttered two thick slices of bread and dunked them in the stew, eating every scrap in record time.

  “Leanne.” Cal stood in the doorway.

  My first instinct was to reply with something snarky, like, Jeez, sneak up on me like a creepy silent ninja, why don’t you. But then I remembered our truce. We’re weren’t going to verbally spar anymore. We were simply going to talk like normal, mature adults.

  “I thought you went out to dinner with the others,” I said.

  Cal shook his head. “Nah, didn’t fancy it.”

  I nodded and rinsed my dishes in the sink, eager to return to my room. My gait was stiff, my movements slow, but I only had myself to blame. Cal had been right when he said mixing gin and tequila was a bad idea.

  “Hold up,” Cal said, eyes on my leg. “Are you sure you didn’t do any real damage when you fell today?”

  “I just need sleep. I didn’t get much last night, so my muscles are stiff.”

  “You’re walking like an eighty-year-old woman.”

  I ignored his comment and continued down the hall at a snail’s pace. Much to my dismay, he followed. When I reached my room, I dropped onto the bed face first. The firm mattress felt like heaven, and I practically moaned as I snuggled into the pillow. I thought I heard Cal mutter a low swearword, but I couldn’t be entirely sure since I was so exhausted.

  “You should let me give you a massage,” he said, which immediately woke me up.

  Cal had given me massages many times in the past, and not just the sexy variety. In our line of work, they really did do wonders for recovery and Cal was excellent at giving them. Of course, that didn’t mean I was letting him anywhere near me right now. I was quite literally naked under this bathrobe, and truce or no truce, letting him touch me was a bad idea.

  “No, thank you,” I said and closed my eyes, hoping he got the hint.

  When I didn’t hear him leave right away, I twisted my head to the side and saw him standing just inside the doorway.

  “If you let me give you a massage, you’re going to feel a million times better in the morning. If you don’t, you’ll probably just feel worse.”

  I knew he was right, but that didn’t mean I was going to say yes. “I’m not risking the others coming back and catching you in my room. Now please, just go.”

  His deep exhale punctuated his frustration. “Let me do something nice for you for once.”

  I groaned into the pillow. Couldn’t he just leave? No, he had to continue standing there, pestering me, tempting me with his deep voice and skilled hands.

  “If I let you do this, will you promise to leave me alone after? I’m so tired if I weren’t already lying down, I’d keel over.”

  Cal’s eyes turned soft. For once I saw no calculation, no antagonism or hidden agenda, just him. He closed the door and went into the bathroom before emerging with my toiletries bag. He rifled through it without asking permission, and I let him because again, I was tired. He found a small bottle of lotion and uncapped the lid.

  I closed my eyes, feeling like a dead weight was pulling me down. A moment later Cal pushed up the hem of my bathrobe until it rested at my upper thighs. Like a splash of cold water to the face, I immediately perked up. His fingertips brushed the skin at the back of my legs feather light and then I felt the cool sensation of lotion. He rubbed it in firmly, and though a moment ago I’d been on the cusp of falling asleep, I was now more awake than I’d ever been.

  How could I not be with Cal’s hands on me? His touch was clinical, all business. And yet it was a futile effort not to feel the electric buzz that seemed to fizzle out of him and into me. He started first at the base of my calf, kneading the muscles there and releasing all the aches and tension.

  “How does that feel?” he asked.

  In spite of his clinical touch, I knew instantly from the throaty quality of his voice that he was alert to the buzz between us just the same as I was. It would always be there, even if we’d been apart for decades. I don’t know why either of us actually believed he could touch me like this and we wouldn’t feel anything. The fact that it had been so long since we’d been together physically only made matters worse.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to enjoy the soothing strokes, the firm way he massaged me, but the itchy need to touch him back was overwhelming. This right here was pure torture, and I’d walked into it willingly.

  Cal worked his way up my leg. When he reached my thigh muscles, a whoosh of breath escaped me. He dug into a particularly tight spot, relieving the ache, and it was wonderful.

  “Jesus Christ, that feels amazing,” I blurted into the pillow before I could censor myself.

  Cal’s low chuckle vibrated through me as he continued to work miracles with his hands. Butterflies invaded my stomach when his hand brushed under the hem of the bathrobe. It was the briefest, softest touch, there and gone, but it still burned through me, leaving my self-control in ashes.

  Without a word Cal moved to the other leg, again starting at the calf. I exhaled a breath. With his hands lower, my tension should have eased, but having his hands so close to my private parts, even for a second, was extremely frustrating.

  “You’ve got the softest skin,” he murmured. He paused mid-stroke, and then he continued to massage me like he hadn’t made the comment at all.

  I was so wet, all because of his touch. I squeezed my thighs together and tried to ignore how arousing this was.

  When he dug his fingers into my upper thigh, I had to bite my pillow because I wanted to moan so hard. It was impossible to stay quiet when something felt this good. Sharp arousal built in me. I would do anything to make his hand move higher.

  I was certain I was delirious with exhaustion when I uttered a strangled. “Please.”

  “What do you need, Leanne?” Cal’s low, silky voice caressed me.

  “Shit,” I swore when he found another tight knot and eased it out. “Nothing, nothing,” I said, backtracking.

  He was silent for a long while after that, and I was so glad that my face was smashed into the pillow because at least that way Cal couldn’t see how red I was. A few minutes later he finished the massage and moved away from the bed, still quiet.

  I could hear him just standing there, so I turned my head to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

  He gave a joyless laugh. “You want me to write you a list?”

  I blew out a breath and my eyes moved lower, his erection plain as day. Um, wow. Arousal simmered through me, my body still buzzing with need.

  I spoke before I even knew what I was saying. “Come here.”

  Cal’s jaw twitched before he uttered a raspy, “No.”

  Few things had the ability to surprise me, but Cal’s response just now knocked me for six. I stared at him, mouth hanging open. “No?”

  He dropped his head, his eyes on the floor when he muttered gruffly. “Get some sleep, Leanne.” With t
hat he turned and left the room, closing the door with a soft snick. I threw my head back into the pillow, my heart racing.

  Had that actually just happened?

  I lay there, stunned. I’d more or less offered Cal sex on a platter, because when he touched me I clearly wasn’t in my right mind. But he…he declined. He’d never denied me before and it was a sobering experience. I was finally getting a taste of my own medicine. Was that what he was trying to do, or did he have another goal that was less clear to me? One thing was for sure, he really wasn’t playing anymore. He could’ve won an epic victory just now and he walked away from it. I swallowed tightly, my emotions on overdrive. An inconvenient, niggling question prodded at me, and it wouldn’t let up.

  By making the bet, had Cal’s goal been to win, or had it been to lose?

  Sixteen

  Leanne

  Two surprisingly uneventful days passed.

  Cal and I didn’t talk about what happened in my bedroom after the massage, and I was glad he didn’t bring it up. A lot of embarrassment and confusion still lingered, but thankfully we were kept busy with work, so I didn’t have too much time to fixate and obsess over his rejection.

  On Thursday we were scheduled to visit a game reserve just a couple hours outside of the city. Paul was all hyped up to see the elephants, peppering me with facts along the journey.

  “Did you know that elephants are the only mammals in the world that can’t jump?”

  “Well, I’m not surprised, have you seen the size of them?”

  “They can run really fast though. They also greet each other by wrapping their trunks together.”

  “Uh huh,” I said, half my attention on my phone. I was scrolling through my news feed when I saw Cal had posted an old picture of us. It was from the early days of filming the first season. We were at the gym, having just completed a workout when he’d snapped a selfie. I remembered it because he told me I looked beautiful right before he took it. I didn’t know how to feel about him still keeping photos of us on his phone. It just felt…weird. Then again, maybe I was a hypocrite since I hadn’t deleted my photos either.