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badgering. ā€œIā€™m doing my best, Miranda. Maybe you should be her love interest if you think you could do better. They can start calling this shit Rug Munch Wars.ā€

I shouldnā€™t have said that. But shit, Iā€™m not making myself look like a fool on purpose here. I am trying.

Mirandaā€™s lip quivers and I can see she wants to say more, but she also can see the look on my face. This isnā€™t funny Gavin, or the Gavin who likes to flirt, or the Gavin who can get grumpy. She sees that Iā€™m serious. Instead, she just shakes her head. ā€œWell, try to get it together and nail your next scenes.ā€

ā€œIā€™ll do that!ā€ I yell after her, leaning back and letting my nuts relax again. I gotta talk to the wardrobe guys. This country boy wearing tight jeans stuff has to go. My characterā€™s supposed to be an auto mechanic. Maybe they can get me a set of dirty coveralls.

I sigh, looking at the ceiling. Brianna. Just a few hours, and youā€™ll be mine. And it canā€™t come fast enough.

I chuckle at the double meaning then frown as another thought goes through my head. She looked so innocent, and inside, I feel bad about maybe taking that innocence.

Just fucking her to clear my head would be like spray painting the Mona Lisa.

But Iā€™m Gavin Adams, and thereā€™s no way I could be thinking of . . .

Itā€™s just a fling, something to get my head right.

Isnā€™t it?Brianna

Oh, my God. I hardly recognize myself.

I gaze at my reflection in the mirror as I run my hands over the sleek red dress, turning myself to the side to see how it hugs my curves. The dress seems to bring out the best in my figure and I wouldnā€™t have worn it had Mindy not talked me into it. Or talked me into going up to Gavinā€™s room tonight.

I still canā€™t believe Iā€™m doing this.

Gavin invited me to his room as if he knew I would just come running to him because heā€™s a celebrity.

It annoys me.

Iā€™m not easy. I donā€™t do hookups. And I donā€™t do one-night stands.

So why did I let Mindy talk me into this again?

Deep down, I know why, even if I donā€™t want to admit it. Since seeing him, Iā€™ve felt this pull to him, and the size of his dick is just part of the issues at hand. The way he looks at me, even some subtle undertone to his voice pulls at me, and I canā€™t get him off my mind.

One way or another, yes or no, I have to know.

The door to the break room opens and in strolls Mindy, her eyes widening in shock when she sees me. ā€œHoly shit, baby got back! I do damn good work!ā€

ā€œMore like baby got fat,ā€ I mutter as I rub my hands over my hips and ass. Iā€™ve been here for nearly thirty minutes, trying to work up the nerve to wear this thing. Iā€™ve even added a gold necklace, sparkling fake diamond earrings, and a bracelet that Mindy brought me along with the dress for good measure. Iā€™m nervous that it might be a bit too much, though. She had gotten it for me on break, gleefully getting my ā€˜suppliesā€™ while I did the rest of my work. I hope she didnā€™t go buy the dress. Thereā€™s no way I could fit her clothes. I have to admit, thoughā€”she outdid herself, but I feel like Iā€™m playing dress-up. Iā€™m just not used to dressing like this. ā€œYou think Iā€™ve overdone it?ā€

ā€œOverdone what?ā€ Mindy asks, coming closer to inspect my curves. Sheā€™s still dressed in heels, white shirt, black apron and skirt, and she looks unusually fresh-faced for this time of day. Sheā€™s loving this. ā€œYou look smokinā€™, girl!ā€

I roll my eyes. ā€œPlease. This makes my ass look huge! I barely fit this!ā€ I complain.

Mindy places her hands on her hips and gives me the look while saying, ā€œAre you serious? Big is in! Heā€™s gonna love it.ā€

I huff out a laugh, feeling butterflies in my stomach. ā€œYeah, love it right up until it starts jiggling like Jell-O.ā€

ā€œJust look at Kim Kardashian and what itā€™s done for her,ā€ Mindy points out.

I groan. ā€œOh, Jesus, and thatā€™s supposed to make me feel better about myself?ā€

Mindy laughs, slapping me on the arm. ā€œOh, shut up. You know what I mean.ā€

ā€œItā€™s the truth,ā€ I say.

Mindy waves away my anxiety. ā€œWell, you need to stop worrying. If I were a guy, Iā€™d bone you.ā€

I laugh incredulously. Mindy seriously has no limits. ā€œWill you stop?ā€

She chuckles evilly. ā€œSeriously. I would.ā€ She shakes her head. ā€œYou look hot as hell, Bri.ā€

I want to deny her compliment, but I have to admit I look better than I have in a long time. I donā€™t normally get this made up, just a little for work. I donā€™t have the time or the reason to.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway pulls my eyes away from the mirror and my stomach tightens with panic. Nobody should be down here. The evening shift went on at least an hour ago, and the afternoon shiftā€™s all gone home.

Mindy pokes her head out, and then she looks back at me with wide eyes. ā€œShit! Itā€™s Vandenburgh! Hide!ā€

ā€œWhere?ā€ I ask, panicking. I really donā€™t want to explain that Iā€™m about to go up to a guestā€™s room all dolled up, even if it is none of his damn business. I wouldnā€™t even have time to catch my breath before Iā€™d get my pink slip.

Thinking quickly, Mindy rushes over and opens the broom closet, motioning for me to jump in.

I arch an eyebrow, knowing itā€™s dusty as hell in there, along with a few slimy surprises. And knowing the stuff Iā€™ve seen swept up off the floors, Iā€™m not anxious to get in there with this dress.

ā€œGet your badonkadonk ass in there!ā€ she growls, grabbing me by the arm, shoving me inside, and closing the door. It doesnā€™t close all the way,

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