“Send me footage every few days,” Heath tells me. “Stay the fuck out of their hotel rooms, and I’ll see you in four months.”

He ends the call, and I sigh, letting the phone slip from my ear.

It took a lot of time to learn to sift through for the praise buried deep in talks with Heath. The takeaway from this little convo is he thinks I’m the person least likely to fuck this up. And it shockingly helps more than anything else anyone could have said.

* * *

Forty minutes later, I’ve got my suitcases by the door, and I’m fidgeting on the couch.

I’m digging through my messenger bag for the stack of index cards I have all of my notes for the documentary on when the bedroom door across the hall from mine opens. I look up at the bare back slipping through. Xander spins and walks down the hall, dragging a hand through his pink hair. He disappears toward the bathroom, but then he backs up and stops at the open archway to the living room. His eyebrows rise in surprise, and I give him a little wave.

“Hey,” he says before glancing back at his closed door. He braces in the archway for a second and then steps into the living room, rubbing a red mark on his shoulder. “I thought you’d still be asleep.”

He drops onto the cushion beside me, and I pull my feet up between us.

“They called last night and changed my pickup time to this morning.”

“That’s why you disappeared early last night?” His lips pull tight, and he groans, scrubbing his hands over his face. “You should have told me, Rem. I thought you left with someone.” His amber eyes set on me, his long lashes brushing his cheeks. “I would have come with you.”

I shrug as he slides his hand onto my knee. “No point in ruining both our nights.”

He glances at the door again, but his gaze darts right back to me. He drops his voice to keep it between us. “Definitely wouldn’t have ruined it.”

His fingers drag across the back of my hand until the door to his room opens, and I pull away. A girl steps into the hall in nothing but the shirt he wore out last night. She gives an awkward smile when she spots us on the couch together. Xander keeps looking at me, though, so after a second of being ignored, she scurries into the bathroom.

I push him in the chest once she disappears. “Dick.”

He chuckles and tips his head back on the couch, closing his eyes. “She knew that’s all she was signing up for.”

One eye peeks open at me, and I try to fight off a smile but fail.

“You’re terrible,” I tell him.