[18+] Sophia has to ignore her steamy chemistry with British popstar Teddy Stone in order to get revenge on him for upsetting her best friend.
*****
Pop sensation Teddy St...
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His words sparked a moment of clarity in my clouded head, enough to gather my wits. I placed my palms flat against his chest, and the way his muscles rippled beneath my hands almost caused me to lose my mind again.
"Like I want you to get the fuck off me?" I gave him a gentle shove, and Teddy's dark eyes darted down to my hands in amusement.
"Something like that," he said, smiling and stepping back.
Turning to the door, he pressed his finger against the scanner again and I took a deep breath, trying to calm my thumping heart.
He was a good-looking guy. Of course I found him attractive. Who wouldn't? But I couldn't let that interfere with the plan. Gabby might have suggested that flirting was the way forwards, but putting distance between us seemed to be the safest option right now.
This time when the scanner turned green, Teddy pushed open the door, and I lost my mind once more.
James Bond indeed.
Glass walls exposed the city of London beneath our feet. Our only companions in the clouds were the tall skyscrapers around us. Glancing around the room, I tried to work out if it was a hotel suite or a full-on penthouse apartment. It had a bedroom, an office, a kitchen, and a living area with a huge TV against the wall, everything laid out in an open-plan style.
"Do you live here?" I asked.
"Mostly. I have other places too, but this is my preferred London base."
"Hence the security."
"Hence the security. But call me James Bond if you want. I feel you'd be more interested in a spy than a singer."
"007, Licence to kill. Wasn't far off with my serial killer fears."
Teddy rolled his eyes, apparently not appreciating that I hadn't taken the bait. "I can sort you out with a set of cards and codes, then get your fingerprint registered. If we're serious about this friendship"—he emphasised the word with air quotes—"then I will do you the courtesy of giving you access to my home."
I folded my arms. "I joked about you being a serial killer, but maybe I'm the psycho and you're giving me keys to your secret den—"
"Secret den sounds a bit creepy—"
"—Your men would not be happy."
"Mark's cool with it. He's had you checked out."
That stumped me. What did having me checked out involve? Fuck, what did he know about me? Had he seen my medical history?
"You've had me checked out?"
"Chill, it's nothing intrusive. We just had to make sure you didn't have a criminal record and weren't a stalker or crazy fan."
"You seem very keen on me not being a crazy fan. Maybe that should concern me, and I should get you checked out."
