Irresistible Bachelors: Books 1-5 Landish, Lauren (top 10 most read books in the world txt) 📖

“I saw Leslie Hart leaving your room. I saw her kiss you. You know, your co-star you tried to act like you were nonplussed about. I saw . . .” Brianna says, punching me right in the chest again. Maybe it’s a country girl thing or maybe she’s that damn angry with me, but Brianna’s got some pop to those punches. If she weren’t so upset, I’d be turned on.

“Wait a minute,” I protest, trying to defend myself without having to grab her. “It wasn’t like that.” I shake my head in confusion, trying to get my words right. Why the hell does she think I was getting it on with Leslie? The little peck on the cheek at the door? “Listen to me, Brianna, this is all just one big misunderstanding.”

She ignores me, convinced in what she saw. “I don't want to ever see you again. I should’ve listened to myself. You’re just one big player . . .”

Brianna turns away, but I can see her shoulders shaking and I know she’s crying.

Seeing her cry tears at my heart. Even though I came down with the intention of breaking things off, I can't let it end like this.

“Brianna, don't,” I say, placing a hand on her shoulder. I want to turn her around, to pull her into my arms and admit that I was stupid. That I’m scared. I’m scared that I’m starting to need her.

Brianna spins, slapping me across the face and making my head rock back. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

Mindy barges into the room at the sound of the commotion. Seeing Brianna’s frazzled state, she rushes to her side and pulls her into a fierce, protective hug. Brianna starts to sob as Mindy holds her and strokes her hair.

“I think it’s best if you just leave,” Mindy says, shaking her head.

“I just need a chance to explain,” I say, still confused. “But I will . . . for now.”

“Go away,” cries Brianna, her voice muffled by Mindy’s chest. “Go break somebody else’s heart.”

Setting my jaw, I walk out of the coffee shop feeling like shit. I don’t have the time to wait till Brianna calms down. I’ve got to be on set in the next few minutes. I barely make it to my car before a small group of paparazzi runs up, their cameras flashing in my face.

“Anaconda, have you shown Leslie Hart the snake yet?” one of them asks, grinning like a perverted high school boy.

I’m enraged, and it’s only by a small miracle that I don’t punch him right in the face. Instead, I shove them out of the way and get in my rental, speeding off like a bat out of hell.

* * *

My mood hasn’t improved by the time I'm on set. And at this point, the entire production team is avoiding me like the plague, only talking to me if they have to. I don’t blame them.

I’m royally pissed. Somewhat at Leslie, who just came to talk professionally, but given my reputation and what Brianna saw, I can see how she misinterpreted it. I’m trying not to take it out on Leslie, but it’s hard not to.

I should have just told Brianna right then it wasn’t what it looked like. Leslie wasn’t in my room for a booty call. And the hug and kiss were nothing.

A part of me wonders if I should just let her hate my guts. After all, five seconds before I opened the coffee shop door, I was ready to break it off with Brianna. This should be for the best.

But I can’t end it this way. For the first time in my life, if I’m going to end it, I want to end it with letting her understand that I don’t want to. That I’m ending it because she deserves better, even if I’m not the douchebag the media makes me out to be. I won’t end it with her thinking I treated her like she didn’t matter.

“Cut!” Jim yells, throwing his pen across the room and against the wall. “What the hell is going on, Gavin? I thought you were getting the hang of this!”

“Ow!” Leslie yells, getting my attention. I look down, realizing that my fingers are digging into her arm so deeply that she might develop a bruise.

Shit. I might be pissed at her, but that’s no reason to hurt her. I let go, watching as the marks on her arm go from pale white to an angry pink. “I’m sorry,” I mumble. “My mind was somewhere else.”

“You were supposed to be taking her hand to put the engagement ring on it, not ripping her arm off and chewing on it like this is a zombie movie!” Jim snarls.

I give him a look, but I turn to Leslie. I need her help. “I need a moment with Leslie,” I tell him, looking her in the eyes and ignoring Jim. “Just a couple of minutes.”

“But . . .” Jim starts to object, but I’m already moving Leslie off the set and toward my trailer.

I yell over my shoulder, “Five minutes!”

There’s a general rumble, but nobody makes too much fuss as I lead Leslie inside my trailer. As soon as the door closes, I step away, giving her space. I need to talk to her, not scare the shit out of her after what I just did to her arm.

“Okay, Gavin, I didn’t scream bloody murder,” she says as soon as we’re alone. “So what’s this all about?”

“About last night,” I say. “And your visit to my suite.”

“What about it?” she asks, rubbing her arm. “It obviously did you no good. You absolutely suck today. I thought you said you were going to work out your problem?”

I suck in a calming breath. She has no idea what’s going on, and I know she didn’t mean to cause any trouble. “You caused someone to get upset with me with that little visit.”

“What?” Leslie gawks at me for a moment, then laughs in