Tangled (18 page)

feelings for her.

Trevor had tried to call Scarlett all day Sunday and now into Monday. He was practically bursting

with his news, eager to share it with someone who cared, someone who mattered to him.

Scarlett.

He’d called his parents after he hadn’t been able to get a hold of her, waking them up early this

morning to share the news. They’d both been cautiously thrilled, excited that he was finally making his

dreams come true but apprehensive that he would be clear across the country.

Typical parents’ stuff. He understood their worries and reassured them. All the while, it nagged at him

that he didn’t want to be alone clear across the country from the only home he’d ever known.

He wanted Scarlett to go with him.

Would she want to? Would she be interested? His girl didn’t like risks, and this was one of the riskiest

moves of all. Asking her to pack her stuff and move to New York with him with no job prospects, nothing

but their feelings for each other.

He ran a hand through his hair and let loose a frustrated sigh as he glanced about the hotel room. He

was coming home tomorrow, but he wanted to talk to her today, needed to talk to her. He was fairly

bursting with the urge to speak with her.

So why the hell wouldn’t she pick up the goddamn phone?

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Maybe she was pissed at him. Their phone call on Saturday night hadn’t been long. He’d been in a

hurry, hanging out with some of the people he’d auditioned with including the assistant director of the play.

They were going to dinner, and it was imperative that he go and make a good impression.

It had worked. The assistant director had essentially told him that night he wanted Trevor for the role.

And he had gotten it. First thing this morning he’d been given the official offer, and he’d readily accepted.

Trevor glared at his quiet cell phone. Damn, he hated trying calling her again but he had to. He

couldn’t resist. Grabbing the phone, he hit the speed dial button and waited to listen to the endless ringing.

The woman didn’t even have a voice mail or answering machine at her house. And he wasn’t in the

mood to leave yet another message on her cell. He’d try her on her house phone and if she didn’t answer,

forget it, he would wait for her call.

She picked up on the sixth ring, just when he’d been about to give up, issuing a breathless hello. His

cock stirred at the first sound of her voice, the whispery quality reminding him of how she sounded just

before she came. He closed his eyes, shook his head. Desperate for clarity.

“Hey,” he said, keeping it simple.

“Trevor. How are you?”

He wished she said she missed him. He missed her like crazy. “I’m great. Scarlett.” He paused for

dramatic effect. He couldn’t help it—he was an actor. “I got the part.”

“You did?” Her voice sounded small, flat, and his brows drew together. “That’s great.”

“Rehearsals start in a month. I have to get my shit together, find a place and come out here. But I

can’t wait.”

“I’m sure you can’t. Wonderful news, Trevor. I’m sure you’re excited.”

Say it dumbass. Just say it.
“I’m definitely excited. I was hoping you’d be excited, too.”

“I’m just freaking thrilled. What do you want me to say? Yipee, I can’t wait until you leave me. Is that

what you want?”

Trevor swore he heard her sob. He clutched his cell tighter, wishing like hell he was there with her.

Maybe he should’ve saved this until they were face-to-face. “I’ll be home tomorrow, Scarlett. We can talk

about this then.”

“I don’t think so, Trevor. What more could we have to say? You took the new job, you’re leaving

L.A. I couldn’t be happier for you. I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore. It would be pointless,

right? We can’t be together. Long distance relationships never work.”

“Damn it, Scarlett, listen to me, we need to talk. There are a few things I need to tell you.”

“I don’t think so. Take care. Have a safe flight home.” And with those final words, she hung up.

Trevor stared at his phone in disbelief. What the fuck had happened? She’d dissed him because she

thought he was leaving her. He’d wanted to ask her to go and instead he felt as if he had driven her away

even more.

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Shit. He ran his hand through his hair again, frustration making his blood boil. He was going straight

to her place after he touched down at LAX tomorrow. And if he had to hold her down and tie her up to

make her listen to him, he would do it. He was that serious.

Tomorrow, he was going to tell Scarlett Goldsmith that he loved her.

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Chapter Eleven

“Why are you even calling me when you wouldn’t take my advice?”

Scarlett swallowed hard, sunk herself deeper into her pillow. She’d gone back to bed when she got off

the phone with Trevor yesterday, too depressed to do anything else. Thank goodness, she was off of work

for a short interim while the new cast and production was in the works. She needed a little downtime.

A little downtime so she could get chastised for being an idiot.

“Do you want me to say you were right?” Scarlett had called Brad hoping for sympathy, and he’d

given her a nice dose of reality instead.

She deserved it. She shouldn’t have talked to Trevor like that, shouldn’t have pushed him away. But

she always pushed him away. She did that every time someone got too close.

Well, now she was full of regret. For once, she realized she’d really made a mistake. And she wanted

to beg Trevor for his forgiveness. Forget the conversation yesterday even happened. Then, then she would

ask him to take her to New York with him.

God.
Just thinking about that made her want to throw up. How would she ever work up the nerve?

“I definitely want you to say I’m right because I
am.
” Brad tsked at her. “Why didn’t you tell him

what you wanted? Why didn’t you tell him how you felt?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice sounded small, weak to her own ears, and she choked back the tears that

threatened. Damn it, she was done crying. She never cried. Certainly never over a
guy.

Oh, she was pitiful.

“You need to call him. You need to go see him. When does he get back?”

“I think he’s already back.” She sniffed. “I can’t go see him. I don’t want to face him. What if he

rejects me?”

“What if he doesn’t? Don’t you want to take that chance?”

“I never take chances.” Taking a chance meant taking a risk, and she just wasn’t up to it. Certainly not

now, when her chance for failure was strong.

“You’ll never know until you try,” Brad said softly.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away furiously. “Do you think he’ll listen to what I

have to say?”

“He seems like a pretty good guy. Drake said he was, and I value his opinion above all others.” Brad

paused. “I know what happened between all of you.”

Karen Erickson

Scarlett swallowed hard. “You do?”

“Oh stop sounding worried. I don’t care. What happened, happened. Now I can brag to you how good

Drake is and you’ll know it’s true.” Brad snickered.

“God, please don’t ever do that.” She shook her head but couldn’t help the little smile forming on her

lips. “Let’s just keep that fact between ourselves.”

“Whatever, doll. Now get off the phone with me and go talk to your man. Tell him how you really

feel.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay. If you say so.”

“You know I’m right. Quit stalling and call him. Or better yet, go see him,” Brad urged.

“Fine, fine. I’ll call him.” No way could she face him. If he did reject her, she’d rather have it happen

over the phone.

Then she wouldn’t have to see his handsome face and know that he didn’t want her anymore.

She hung up the phone with Brad and blew out a harsh breath. She should take a shower, wake herself

up a little bit before she called him.

You’re stalling, just like Brad accused you of.

Yep, she sure was. No reason to deny it.

She crawled out of bed and was heading toward her bathroom when the doorbell rang. Giving a quick

peek in the mirror over her dresser, her heart dropped to her toes.

Confirmation that yes indeed, she looked like hell. Her hair was a massive case of bed head, she had

dark circles under her eyes and her nose was red from crying.

Without a doubt, she knew that Trevor stood on the other side of her front door. Would he recoil in

disgust when he got one look at her? Or would he accept her with open arms despite the ratty appearance.

Damn it, he shouldn’t care, and she shouldn’t either. If he really cared for her, he wouldn’t. So this

was some sort of test. She was that confident that he was the one ringing her doorbell.

Ringing her doorbell again she realized as she bolted toward the door. If she didn’t get her act

together, he would leave.

Might never return again, not that she would blame him.

Scarlett skidded to a halt in front of the door, her hand resting on the doorknob for one beat, two.

Taking a deep breath, she searched for courage, strength and wisdom—all of the above. Then she twisted

the lock and opened the door, her eyes going wide at the sight before her.

It was indeed her Trevor, looking delicious in a white T-shirt and faded jeans, a bundle of the most

beautiful peach colored roses she’d ever seen clutched in one hand. Her gaze flew to his face, caught sight

of the apprehension there and relief flooded her.

He looked as nervous as she felt.

“Hi, Scarlett.” He thrust the roses toward her in offering.

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She took them from him, brought them to her nose and breathed deep. The heady fragrance of the

flowers filled her head, made her dizzy. She smiled faintly despite the fear that still held her body captive.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“Can we talk?” She opened the door wider.

“Of course. Come in. I have a few things to say to you, too.”

“I just bet you do,” he muttered as he walked by her, startling her with the irritation in his voice. She

slowly closed the door, watched out of the corner of her eye as he strode inside her tiny apartment. He

looked around, ran a hand through his hair and then rubbed the back of his neck. Gestures she recognized

he did when he was nervous.

Again, his behavior reassured her. Made her think that maybe they were on the same page.

She desperately wanted them to be on the same page.

“Look, I know you’re going to dump me and tell me this isn’t going to work, but you’re not giving us

a chance, Scarlett,” he said. His gaze met hers when she started walking toward him, the roses clutched to

her chest.

“Really?” Oh, she was feeling better by the second. His gray eyes darkened with a hint of anger, and

she wanted to smile. She barely held it in check.

“Hell yes, really. You didn’t even give me a chance to finish talking to you yesterday on the phone.

And what I was about to ask you was really important, Scarlett.” Yeah, he was definitely mad. The

irritation was written on his face. She hated to admit it, but she kind of liked it when he was angry. He

became rather passionate. And she liked it when Trevor was passionate.

Really, really liked it.

“What did you want to ask me?” She set the roses carefully on the coffee table, wishing she could put

them in water but not wanting to break the tentative connection going on with Trevor.

He blinked, surprised, she guessed, at her rather calm and rational tone. “I, well, I wanted to ask

you—”

“Because if it has anything to do with me going to New York with you, then the answer is yes,” she

interrupted, pleased at the shocked light that grew in his eyes.

It was as if he couldn’t find his voice. It took him a few moments to speak. “You’re serious. You’ll

come with me.”

“If you’ll have me.”

“Even though I’ll be the only person you know. Even though this move is a huge risk for both of us,

especially you.” His tone was flat, his expression wary. She couldn’t help it, she laughed. Not at him, but at

the entire situation and what they were about to do.

It was crazy. It was wonderful. She couldn’t wait.

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“Are you trying to talk me out of it, Trevor? So far you’re doing a great job.” She stopped in front of

him, her hands itching to touch him, pull him close, hold him forever.

“Hell no, I don’t want to talk you out of going. Come here.” He reached for her, his fingers circling

around her wrist and pulling her close. She braced her hands against the solid wall of his chest, her fingers

curling into the soft fabric of his shirt. God, he smelled good, felt good.

Felt like home. Felt like she belonged in his arms.

Trevor crushed her to him, holding her tight, and she buried her face against his chest. “I’m sorry,”

she murmured into his shirt. “I shouldn’t have been awful to you yesterday on the phone.”

He stroked her hair, his fingers tangling in the wild curls. “You were scared. Hell, I know I’m scared.”

“Are you, Trevor?” She glanced up at him, surprised to see so much emotion shining in his eyes. All

of it directed straight at her. “You always seem confident, so sure of what you’re doing.”