Chapter 12: 12. Already a Mess

Keith

Well, that’s over. Finally. I head for the exit, hoping to slip away unnoticed, coop up in the hotel, and replay my latest slip-up on a loop when I notice Mike waving me over. We end up discussing our shooting schedule for a while before I break free. Escaping the highlight reel of my fuck-up is not as easy. That’s why Kolivan insists I prepare my answers beforehand and not deviate from them in the slightest, but the dumb question pissed me off so much my temper got the better of me. 

By the time I step into the hallway, I expect everyone to be gone, so I’m surprised to spot Shiro chatting with his friends nearby. One of his arms is casually slung around Lance’s shoulders, and an ugly bolt of jealousy cleaves through me, misplaced as it is. Plus, it doesn’t even mean anything. Shiro seems like an affectionate person, and Lance is his friend. They’re also buddies with the little girl with giant eyes and round glasses who's laughing at something Shiro said right now.

 In fact, they all have such an easy-going rapport that when we put them together during the callback, it clicked. Together with Hank, who they clearly adopted, they traded back-and-forth as if they knew each other their whole lives because, well, they did, and it cemented our decision to hire both Shiro and Katie on the spot. But now I’m just standing in the middle of an emptying hall, staring from the sidelines at their group like a creep, and a familiar ache of never fitting in rattles my bones. 

Wow. Go cry into your piles of money, Kogane. You’re not in this business to make friends. 

Shiro notices my ogling and detaches from the group, stepping toward me.

“Coming with us to The Cauldron, Shiro?” Lance calls after him.

“Maybe later. Go ahead without me,” he says. Lance mumbles something, but I wouldn’t care if he burst into reciting a Shakespear sonnet or sang the entire lyrics from Hamilton. My whole attention is on Shiro, on the way his purple T-shirt with short black sleeves hugs his muscular frame, on the way he moves, each stride pure confidence in motion.

How does he strip out of that thing? Does he need to cut it off? No, the better question is, if he stretches, does it tear? 

Nope. Don’t think about Shiro stripping. Don’t think about how he might look under the layer of fabric, muscles hard and contracting, eyes glazed over while staring at me. No. An absolute no. Perhaps hiring him wasn’t such a clever idea. I thought I could handle myself, but clearly, Shiro’s proximity is scrambling my basic common sense, which is currently yelling at me, ‘you don’t fuck around with your coworkers, you moron.’

“The Cauldron?”

“Yeah. It’s this fantasy-themed bar we like. Probably too geeky for someone like you.”

Someone like me? What’s that supposed to mean? Best not to ask. Shiro continues, saving me from saying something dumb.

“Sorry for jumping in back there. I thought I’d head off the discussion before it turned ugly.”

“It’s fine.”

More than fine. Unlike me, he handled the situation gracefully, like a pro. Better than a pro, even. Kolivan wouldn’t have to lecture him about keeping his temper in check and the benefits of keeping one’s mouth shut. 

“The pin was a nice touch.” 

“Oh. Well. I worried it was too much, but I usually wear it, so…” Shiro shifts on his feet. 

“I’m gonna go. Curtis—he’s the new PA, by the way—will send you the shooting schedule next week, so start packing.”

“Sure. Would you maybe want to grab a cup of coffee with me?”

I need to replay the question in my head to make sure I heard correctly. Coffee is an innocent enough activity, right? Friends drink coffee. Colleagues drink coffee. Besides, it might be good for me to get desensitized to him before the shooting starts. Shiro misreads my hesitation and slumps a little.

“Now?” I ask.

“Sorry, that was dumb. You’re probably busy.” He rubs the scar on his arm, a nervous gesture he does a lot.

You are reading story Star Quality at novel35.com

“Spaced out for a moment. No, I have time. Won’t your friends miss you, though?”

“They can manage.” 

“Did you have a place in mind?”

“Oh yeah, it’s close. They have the best blueberry scones. Just promise not to judge my coffee habits.”

“Why? What do you do that’s so horrible? Don’t tell me you drink unicorn frappuccinos.” 

We head for the exit, Shiro waving to his friends, who are still talking and breaking into peals of laughter now and then. Seriously. How can you talk for so long for the sake of talking? To an introvert like me, it’s a mystery. Either speak to a point or shut the hell up.

“Guilty. Anything disgustingly sugary or with sprinkles.”

“Gross. Okay, I changed my mind. I can’t be seen with you. The coffee police would arrest me. How are you not in jail?”

“I’m sneaky and counting on the silence of my accomplices.”

“Nobody should support such a disgusting habit, but you’re safe with me since I’m not exactly known for my chattiness. How do your friends not blab, though? They seem—” Wow, I almost offended Shiro’s friends and my future coworkers in one fell swoop. Great going. Thankfully, Shiro takes it in his stride, laughing and letting me through the door first. The sun hits my eyes, forcing me to squint because I was so busy talking to Shiro I forgot to put on my sunglasses.

“I bribe them with cookies,” he says, and I have to laugh. The man is sort of ridiculous, but it’s melting my insides into a river as sugary as the coffee he claims to love. 

“Wow. That yours?” he asks when we arrive at where I parked my bike.

“Yeah. My first big splurge after I got control of my earnings. Totally worth it.” 

Shiro’s eyes skate lovingly over the sleek lines of my Arch 1S. 

“I believe that.” 

“You ride?”

“Used to have a Harley Sport Glide. But I couldn’t ride after the accident, plus I needed to cover the medical bills, so I had to sell it. My fiancé—well, ex-fiancé—didn’t want me to, anyway. Said it was too dangerous.”

“The best things often are.” 

Our eyes meet, and the same weird energy I felt during the audition sizzles between us. Now it’s back with a vengeance, making my entire body shiver just from Shiro’s intense gaze. God, the man is hot, with the muscles rippling under his clothes and that striking hair falling into his forehead, and it seriously messes with my composure. A siren blares in my mind. Abort. Abort. Then again, it’s only coffee, for crying out loud. I should be able to handle that without embarrassing myself, right? 

“Maybe I can offer you a ride sometimes,” I say.

What the fuck? Nobody rides Red but me. But a little thrill runs through me when I imagine Shiro’s large body pressed against mine as we drive through the desert together.

Dammit. The shooting hasn’t even started, and I’m already a mess.

You can find story with these keywords: Star Quality, Read Star Quality, Star Quality novel, Star Quality book, Star Quality story, Star Quality full, Star Quality Latest Chapter