Forced Proximity (Bluebell House Duet Book 1)
Forced Proximity: Chapter 18

As ahead as I was with my assignments—largely thanks to my inability to sleep properly—I really didn’t have much to fill my time with when I wasn’t in classes. At least, that was my excuse when Brodie asked if I’d spend Friday afternoon with him running lines for his callback on the audition he’d attended over the weekend.

Initially we were sitting in the living room to read the script, but about an hour after we started, Connor and Haze came in and turned on the Xbox to play Call of Duty with some guys online, on the other side of the world. After relocating to Brodie’s room, I couldn’t stop myself from snooping through his things a bit.

“Evie babe, what happened to running lines with me?” Brodie teased, lying across his bed like a big old snack.

I tried not to look directly at him because I kept getting stupid little butterflies when he met my eyes. Damn actors and their ability to make you feel things that weren’t necessarily true.

“When’s your callback?” I asked, flicking through one of the many, many highlighted and annotated scripts on his desk—after having already gained his permission, of course.

Brodie sighed. “Next Friday. Which is not ideal because I have a work thing the following night out in LA but…whatever.” He seemed out of sorts about it, though. Like he didn’t really think he’d be getting the part.

I frowned, putting the script back down to give him my attention. “Who else are they considering for the role? If you can tell me.”

“It’s between me, Travis Peters, Braxton Crumpet, and Seven Harrison.” He pouted, and it was way too fucking endearing.

“That seems like an odd mix. Those actors are like ten or fifteen plus years older than you, and the character is meant to be your age, isn’t he?” I moved back over to perch on the edge of his bed, picking up the script once more.

Brodie sighed again, the dramatic beast. “Yeah…they’re thinking about maybe aging the characters up for the sake of the movie. I dunno…I’m not getting my hopes up. The casting director mentioned my role in Bloodstone at least ten times, so I feel like he’s having a hard time seeing me as anything else.”

“That casting director sounds like a fucking moron,” I informed him with a nod. “You’d be incredible in this role and they’d be stupid to try and age up a bunch of snowboarding badasses to their late thirties. Wouldn’t that put them at risk of knee injuries and shit?”

He barked a laugh at that. “You’re probably right. And this isn’t the be-all and end-all… I just really love the script and think it’d be an exciting change of pace, you know?”

I nodded, leaning back on one of the pillows to read the script again. “Where did you want to start from?”

Brodie cleared his throat, shifting his position somewhat so he faced me. “Can I ask you a question, Evie?”

“Sure, ask away. We’re all locked into our house of secrets, remember?”

“True…” he murmured, thoughtful. “So…what’s going on with you and Ethan?”

Oh. That was not what I thought he was going to ask. Then again, he’d walked in on us making out in the middle of the Economics of Crime classroom just this morning so it was a fair question.

“I mean, is it just casual, or are you guys dating or…”

“No,” I quickly replied, shaking my head. “No, we’re not dating. It’s just…I don’t know. Chemistry. We aren’t—” I cut myself off, blowing out a long breath as I tried to come up with the right answer. “He’s my teacher. So…we aren’t anything.” Right? That was what I was supposed to say, I was sure of it.

Brodie narrowed his eyes, clearly not believing me. And really, why the fuck would he after what he’d seen going on between us after class?

“Uh-huh,” he said skeptically. “So hypothetically speaking, if someone else were interested…”

Holy hell, is it hot in here? I feel hot.

“Someone else?” I repeated, unable to actually form a smooth comeback to what was more than likely just flirty banter or teasing from Brodie. We were besties…right? He’d friend-zoned me, and I wasn’t stupid enough to think that Brodie freaking Keller—the sexiest man in Hollywood—would ever be interested in me. Evelyn fake-last-name with the mysterious past and truck loads of trauma.

With all of that running through my head, I was totally stunned when he cupped my face, leaned in, and brushed his lips over mine ever so softly.

What the fuck is happening?

“Sorry,” Brodie murmured, shifting back just an inch or two. “That was… I should have asked first. Maybe I misread the vibes between us?”

Shit. Snap out of it, Evelyn!

Blinking, I shook my head. “You didn’t misread anything.”

A slow, sexy smile curved his lips. “So…can I kiss you, Evie babe?”

Holy shit, was this a dream?

I nodded, and he quickly closed the gap between us, but this time his kiss was more confident and eager, melting me into a puddle of goo. If it was a dream, it was one I badly didn’t want to wake up from.

“Brodie! Have you seen Eve?”

Ethan’s voice calling up the stairs made me jump so hard I fell off Brodie’s bed entirely, crashing to the floor in a seriously inelegant pile of limbs.

“Holy shit,” Brodie spluttered, peering over the side of his bed with a grin plastered across his sexy face. “Are you okay?”

“Ow,” I moaned, rubbing my hip where I’d hit the wooden floor.

“Eve?” Ethan said, appearing in the doorway with a puzzled look on his face. “Are you okay? I heard a crash…” His gaze tracked from me on the floor, to Brodie sprawled out on his bed, then back to me with a small frown.

My hip hurt, as did my elbow, but nothing quite compared to the bruise on my dignity. “I’m fine,” I muttered, scrambling up from my tangled position. “No harm done.”

“What are you guys doing up here?” Ethan asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked to Brodie for answers.

“Running lines,” I said.

At the same time, Brodie replied, “Making out.”

My face flamed, and I quickly grabbed the highlighted script from where it’d fallen to the floor. Then used it to smack Brodie over the head…gently.

“I’m helping Brodie rehearse for his callback next Friday,” I elaborated, giving the smug-as-fuck actor a hard glare. He seemed to be far too fucking amused by my awkwardness.

Luckily, Ethan seemed suitably distracted by the news of Brodie’s callback. “No way! That’s great news, Brodes. Come down to the kitchen while I cook dinner and tell me all about it.” He glanced at me with a sly grin as Brodie sighed and got up from his bed. “Coming, Eve?”

I tried really hard not to pout as I muttered under my breath, “Apparently not.” Then covered it by replying, “Sure. What are you cooking?”

“We are cooking lasagna,” Ethan informed me. “Someone ate the chicken I’d intended to use for chicken parmesan.”

Brodie jogged down the stairs two at a time, but Ethan grabbed my waist before I could follow, spinning me to face him and pinning me against the wall.

“You’re blushing, Lilith,” he whispered in a husky voice, doing all kinds of unspeakable things to my insides. “Was Brodie flirting?”

I swallowed hard, my brain not fully functioning with how my hormones were raging and my pulse raced. Rather than lie, I just nodded…technically, he had been flirting.

Ethan hummed a thoughtful sound, his gaze dipping to my mouth as his fingers caressed my jaw, tilting my head back against the wall. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you all day, fantasizing about what could have happened if Brodie didn’t interrupt us after class…”

Oh my god. A somewhat obscene whimper escaped me, and Ethan’s gaze heated. His head dipped lower, his lips meeting mine for just the briefest moment.

“Eth! You get lost or something?” Brodie yelled up the stairs, and I groaned.

“Asshole,” Ethan grumbled, then kissed me again, quick and hard, before releasing me entirely. “We still need to talk, Lilith. After dinner?”

I blew out a heavy sigh, leaning my head back on the wall. “I suppose so. I’ll be down in a minute.” I gestured for him to head downstairs while I quickly went to my room.

Once inside, I closed the door and very firmly turned the key in the paint-splattered lock, testing the door to check it was definitely locked. Confident no one would come bursting in, I dove onto my bed and reached into my bedside table for my vibrator.

Between Brodie, Ethan, and the fear of getting caught hanging over my head—and with my trusty rechargeable vibrator—I got myself off in less than a minute. Then needed to lay there on the bed gasping and buzzing for another five before I could force myself to head back downstairs.

Wandering into the kitchen, I could safely say I was a shitload calmer and in control of my dumb hormones once more. Not to mention I was a lot more relaxed.

“Evie babe,” Brodie purred from where he sat at the kitchen table. “Come sit with me.” He patted his lap, and I rolled my eyes, grinning.

“Rein it in, Brodes,” Ethan scolded. “Eve, can you dice those tomatoes for me, please?”

I nodded, trying to ignore the way Brodie watched me move through the kitchen with pure lust in his eyes. I’d made the right move, taking a minute for myself upstairs. If I’d come down here with all that sexual tension still sky high…well, I’d soon be replaceing out how Ethan and Brodie felt about threeways.

A few minutes later, my libido cooled as Connor joined us in the kitchen and made a snide remark about how I was dicing tomatoes wrong—as if there was even a wrong way to dice a fucking tomato.

Ethan seemed to be cooking without a recipe, so I simply followed his instructions about what was needed, and an hour later, we were serving up the most delicious lasagna I’d ever tasted.

Surprisingly, Andrew and Haze joined us right as we plated up, and everyone sat down to eat together.

“Did someone clean in here?” Andrew asked, pausing halfway through his dinner and squinting at the kitchen. “Like, deep clean, I mean.”

I glanced over at Connor, but he just stared back at me, his expression unreadable.

“I think campus staff were here today,” Ethan commented as casual and confident as if that were the truth. “They must have done it.”

Andrew frowned. “Huh. Well…they did a good job.”

I quirked a brow at Connor, but his response was just to hold my gaze steadily while he scratched his stubble-dusted cheek…with his middle finger. Fucking immature asshole.