Page 17 of A Very Cheeky Christmas

“The set just called and there’s some kind of medical emergency, so I’ve gotta get going, actually.”

“I’ll go with you,” he says. Concern etches his features.

“No. You need your rest. I’ve got this.” Then I turn on my heels and leave.

chapter nine

Andrew

I quickly end the video chat with my family because something is very wrong with Maxine and I need to find out what it is. I toss on some shoes and grab a travel neck pillow—advice from my mother—for me to sit on in lieu of a donut pillow. Stupid ass injury. So that slows me down more than I’d like.

By the time I pull into the lot at the studio, I’m nearly two hours behind her.

I barge into the main studio and there she is, standing at the craft services table talking to Scarlet and Laura. There are a few other of the main actors and crew members around as well.

She looks up and sees me and immediately starts shaking her head. She tries to set aside her plate of food, but she’s trapped by some equipment, the table, and me.

“What the hell was that about, with you barging out of my house like your hair was on fire?” I ask her.

“We’re not doing this,” she says.

“Yes, we are. We’re so doing this.”

One of the cameramen steps forward to take her plate.

“Thank you,” she says.

“You spend one amazing night in my arms, in my bed, then you just rush out like it meant nothing,” I say. “That is not how this is gonna work, sweet thing.”

She pops her fists on her hips. “No, evidently the way this is gonna work is you’re going to call me horrible names to your family when I’m not in the room.”

“Andrew,” Scarlett scolds.

“Oh no,” Laura says.

And I just laugh.

“Oh, so you just think this is all hilarious?” Max asks.

“Go ahead, tell them what you overheard,” I say. “What’s this horrible name you heard?”

“You called me a whale,” she says.

“Nope. Be more specific.”

“A narwhal!” She tosses her hands up. “He called me a fucking narwhal. Like it’s any better to refer to me as a specific kind of whale?”

Scarlett gasps, looking from me to Max and back again, her eyes widening. “Is she really, Andrew?”

“Oh yeah.”

Then Scarlett and Laura are both wiping their eyes and side hugging. “You’ve waited so long.”

The cameraman who took Max’s plate and has since been snacking off of it, comes and claps me on the shoulder. “Congrats, man.”

“Hold up!” Max yells. “You are all crazy people! Why is everyone so excited that he’s calling me a fancy unicorn whale?”

I close the distance between us and cup her face. “You’re beautiful when you’re angry,” I say.