Over Exposed by Stephanie Julian Read Free Book Online Page A

like it. It’s a great stress reliever.”
    He could think of a few more activities that were also great stress relievers, but he figured she wouldn’t appreciate that now.
    â€œSo have you tried it?” she asked.
    â€œWhat? Yoga?” They reached the kitchen and he pushed open the door for her to enter, his gaze catching on that swinging ponytail. He wanted to wrap it around his hand and pull her head back so he could kiss her again. “No. My ex did it for a while and she kept trying to get me to go with her but . . .”
    He could never be bothered.
    From the fridge, where she was removing stuff left and right, Sabrina looked over her shoulder at him, eyes wide. “You were married?”
    â€œNo.” Engaged for five years, yes. And he’d been a total dick. “No, we never made it down the aisle.” Totally his fault. “She’s married to another guy now. They’ve actually agreed to be in the film.”
    Closing the fridge, she started opening cabinets, withdrawing canisters and bowls. “Sounds like you still have a good relationship with her.”
    â€œWe do. Strange—well, maybe not so strange—but we get along better now that we’re not together. She’s still a good friend.”
    â€œAnd her husband?”
    She’d gathered all her ingredients and she stood with the table between them, measuring dry ingredients into one bowl, wet into another. All that work gave her a convenient excuse not to look at him.
    He should be happy she hadn’t brought up that kiss. But damn it, he wanted her to. Wanted her to be as rattled as he was by it. Because that kiss had rocked him off his feet.
    It’d also given him the fuel to get those pages written last night.
    And he needed to keep that under tight control.
    â€œHer husband is Neal Donahue.”
    She nodded, as if none of this surprised her, and again, he wondered exactly how much she’d researched him. Not that she’d had to do a lot of digging to know any of this. It was common fodder for the gossip rags. Still . . . he wanted to beat his chest in triumph.
    â€œHe’s had some trouble, hasn’t he?”
    She said it without any sarcasm, when to say Neal had had trouble was like saying an alcoholic simply liked to unwind with a drink every night.
    Neal had had a drug problem. A very public, very messy problem that had spilled over to his professional life for years. He’d made a triumphant debut on Broadway in a gritty musical about juvenile convicts at twenty, then made the jump to Hollywood and landed a pivotal role in an out-of-left-field summer blockbuster.
    For a few years, Neal could do no wrong. But, like so many other brilliant artists, drugs finally got the better of him.
    â€œThat’s a pretty big understatement,” Greg said. “He racked up an almost-million-dollar debt by the time a few friends intervened and got him into rehab.”
    â€œYou were one of them, weren’t you?”
    She’d stopped mixing to look at him and Greg had the uncontrollable urge to spill his guts. He never talked about this, not to anyone except Tyler, who’d dragged it out of him one very late night after several bottles of liquor.
    â€œYeah. Even though we were both sleeping with my fiancée at the time . . . yeah, I liked him.”
    Her eyebrows lifted but she didn’t look shocked. “Did you know? About Daisy and Neal?”
    She went back to mixing and he found it easier to talk about this when she wasn’t looking directly at him.
    â€œI knew.”
    â€œAnd it didn’t bother you?”
    How did he put this so he didn’t sound like a total ass? Apparently he was fighting a losing battle. “Honestly, no. It was a relief.”
    She shot him a frown. “Why?”
    Because she’d had someone else to worry about, someone else to talk to. Daisy had needed a hell of a lot more attention