Famous (Famous #1) Read Free Page A

starting to feel a constant veil of desperation hanging over me at the pending loss of her presence in my life.
    Now, after we’d played it and replayed it, take after take, I sat on the edge of the bed trying to get control of my errant body and labored breathing. I was shaking as I turned away from Brook and tried to get a grip on myself. She sat on her knees on the bed, waiting while Martin spoke to the production manager about the lighting and camera angles. Both of us were sitting in stunned silence. The last take of the scene had gotten so bloody hot. Ryan had finally touched Julia intimately in the story, and that meant I had touched Brook. I could feel her heat on my fingers, seeping through her clothes, feel how slippery the flesh beneath the fabric of her sweats had been. I’d had a raging hard-on all day and I was unsure how much more I could withstand. I felt so ridiculous and embarrassed, afraid of Brook’s reaction. She felt it, too. I felt the tangible proof.
    “Cade…” She scooted toward me. “Last night—and just now—I’m sorry,” Brook said softly, but knowingly.
    “Please don’t, Brook. You didn’t do anything to apologize for.” I shook my head and kept my eyes averted, staring at the fake window in front of me. I couldn’t look at her. She had so much skin showing, more than she ever did when we were alone in one of our rooms practicing and it was more than I could take, regardless of the others around us.
    “I just—” she struggled for words and sat down fully on the bed, crossing her legs in front of her. “I don’t like this strain between us. You’re… well, you’re one of my best friends. Maybe the best friend I’ve ever had.”
    Best friends fighting the love, like the characters we were playing . Well, I’m bloody in love with you, my mind screamed .
    I threw my head back and looked at the ceiling. It was about twenty or thirty feet above us: just bare steel, and girders of the warehouse where they built the interior set of the Boston apartment. “Brook, I’m just trying to get through this scene and remember what the hell the truth is. I’m sorry if I seem distant. It’s the only way I can deal with it and how I’m keeping the thin grip on the little control that I have left. As you can tell from this last take, I’m not as strong as I need to be.”
    She brought both hands to her glorious hair and threaded her fingers through it on each side of her head. “Do you think it’s any different for me? I’m just—”
    The director had a great sense of timing and called to us from the edge of the set, a smirk firmly in place on his pudgy face, and inwardly I groaned. “Can you guys clear out for a minute? Get a drink or something while they redress the set for the next take.”
    I spoke before I could help myself. “How many damn takes do you need? How many ways can we do this for Christ’s sake? We have it,” I spat at him. Brooklyn swallowed and her face fell as she sat there, clutching the sheet around her. Instantly, I was filled with regret at my words. “I thought you were so worried about the budget,” I said, more softly now, imploring him to stop the torture.
    Martin stared up at me and crossed his arms across his chest. Brook was looking down at her lap as she started to move to the edge of the bed. I stood up and walked around the end of it and past Martin.
    “I just want to shoot it with a tighter camera one time and then if it’s all good, we’ll be done with this scene. I also want to film some stuff that may get used for the other love scenes,” Martin said impatiently as I turned to leave the set.
    “Like what?” Brook asked hesitantly, trepidation clear on her beautiful features.
    “Well, I just want a tighter shot of the kissing.” He looked between the two of us for a second. I knew that would mean even less clothing between us.
    “Christ,” I said as I stormed off the set.
    “Ten minutes, Cade,” Martin called sternly after