Lana

“Hi, Polly,” I said as I passed her with Molly the cat, headed toward the grocery store. The call with Ruby had calmed me and I’d spent most of the day yesterday sleeping. Today seemed brighter. The sun agreed, and when I’d heard Matt’s car pull out from the driveway this morning, I decided to go grab some ice cream and broccoli.

Polly stopped abruptly and I turned back. “Did you hear we have a movie star staying in Worthington?”

My stomach churned. The secret was out. “We do? Where’d you hear that?”

“Bob said his daughter spotted someone in there.” She pointed in the direction of the grocery store.

I nodded, trying to freeze my face into a neutral expression. “Well, Worthington’s a beautiful place. It’s bound to attract attention.”

“I hear he’s very handsome. Tall. Smells good.”

“Have you been sniffing strangers again?” I teased.

She shrugged. “Just what I heard. He was polite, too, by all accounts.”

“He was just wandering around town?”

“Picking up milk and chips, apparently. He signed a few autographs and took a few pictures with people.”

How had I been so dumb? I really was the last to know everything in this place.

“Speaking of, I’m just going to get a few things myself.” I waved, then dipped into the store. I grabbed a basket and sped around the three aisles in record time. As I waited in line to be served, a magazine stocked by the register caught my eye.

There he was, smiling out at me from the cover of a popular tabloid. How could I not have noticed him before? I might not have seen his movies, but I must have come across his face a hundred times.

I put my basket on the counter and quickly stuck a copy of the magazine in as well, hoping it would go unnoticed.

“He’s staying in town,” Jennifer said as she swiped the bar code of the tabloid and placed it in a bag. “He was in here buying milk, chips and gum yesterday. I served him.”

“Really?” I asked, trying to sound uninterested.

“Apparently, he picked up some beer at the liquor store.” She scanned the other items I had in my basket. “He was very polite, and twice as handsome in real life,” she said, nodding at my magazine.

She didn’t need to tell me how handsome he was. I shoved some cash at her, desperate to get out of there and find out more about the man I’d slept with. Was he really the kind of guy to sleep with someone when he was getting married? I wanted to get out of there so I could tear those pages open and see what they were saying.

Matt

I strode up the stairs to Lana’s porch, still dressed in my running gear, and rapped on the back door. Christ, what a mess. I’d cursed Sinclair out after Lana had left yesterday. He might be responsible for my brand but only because I allowed it. That didn’t mean he could burst into my house uninvited and scream at me.

Even if he was right.

Sleeping with Lana hadn’t been smart, but it had been unavoidable. There was no way I could have resisted her any longer. When she’d come over for a beer last night without a scrap of makeup on, it had hit me. She wasn’t trying to impress me. I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

I knocked on the door again. She hadn’t answered when I’d dropped by yesterday either. No doubt she was embarrassed—Sinclair had chased her out in only a sheet. I at least wanted to make sure she was okay. If I had her number I could have messaged her, but I hadn’t even had a chance to say good-bye, or thanks for the sex, before she’d run out as if the building was on fire. Not that I could blame her.

Jeez, Sinclair could be such a prick. Lana wasn’t some Hollywood girl fucking me to get ahead. She was different. She was cool and confident and not interested in me just because of who I was.

I tried to peer through the kitchen window but the blinds were still closed. Her car was in the drive, so maybe I’d go for a run and try again later. I dropped down the stairs two at a time and almost knocked into Lana as she came toward me, her nose buried in a magazine.

I grinned as she looked up and she froze. Her eyes went from the tabloid to my shoes.

“You’re an asshole,” she said matter-of-factly as she smacked the magazine against my stomach and tried to move past me.

“Hey,” I said, taking the tabloid from where it had hit me in the abs and changing direction to follow her back up her porch steps. “You don’t know me well enough yet to know if I’m an asshole.”

“I know enough.” She stomped toward her front door and jerked it open, nearly hitting me in the face.

“Look,” I said, lingering on the threshold, “I’m sorry about Sinclair. He oversteps his boundaries sometimes. But he does have my best interests at heart even if it’s difficult to tell.”

“Yeah, well it looks like overstepping is catching. You need to go.” She unloaded her grocery bag onto the counter and began to put things away.

I grinned. I liked her fired up like this. I could too easily picture pinning her arms behind her back while her warm body struggled against mine before becoming pliant and welcoming. “Hey, I said I’m sorry. He’s gone now and I have the rest of the day off.”

Scowling, she turned to me. It would have been scary if it hadn’t been so damn cute. “Seriously? You expecting a blow job just because your publicist isn’t here?” Her eyes flitted to the magazine she’d thrown at me. “I suggest you call your girlfriend, or fiancée or whoever the hell she is.”

Wow, she was really mad. I held my hands up in surrender. “Hey, slow down for a second. It wasn’t my fault Sinclair crashed in yesterday. And this”—I held the tabloid up—“is all bullshit. Obviously.” I flung the magazine onto the counter.

“Oh? So it’s bullshit that you’re engaged?”

“Of course it is.”

She rolled her eyes and slammed the freezer door shut. “Oh well, you only cheated on your girlfriend. That’s okay then.”

I took a step into her house. Before he’d left, Sinclair had given me a confidentiality agreement for Lana to sign, but right at this moment, I didn’t give a shit about anything other than making her understand the situation. “Hey, I’m not a cheater. Audrey isn’t my girlfriend.”

“Are you serious?” she asked, stomping around the counter toward me. “Let me point out the obvious.” She flipped the magazine to a double page filled with photographs of me with Audrey on red carpets, in restaurants, even one of us going for a hike.

I really didn’t know Lana well enough to explain the details of my and Audrey’s relationship, and Sinclair would kill me if I told her the truth without putting an NDA in place. “Audrey and I are friends.”

She burst out laughing. “Right. Now, can you get out of my kitchen? I have things to do.”

I grabbed her wrist as she walked away. “Look, I want to explain, but to do that I need you to sign a non-disclosure agreement.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s okay for you to sleep with me but I have to sign an NDA if we’re to have a conversation? Well, don’t worry. As if I want anyone to know I’d been anywhere near you. I’m not going to say a word.”

Her expression hit me like a bullet to the chest. She looked disgusted. Plenty of women were against cheating, but I’d never had to explain myself to any woman. They weren’t concerned with my relationship status. But this was exactly why I liked Lana. She wasn’t like all those other girls.

“Look, I’ve been told not to get into this until you sign the NDA. But Audrey isn’t my girlfriend. It’s just a Hollywood thing. She has a boyfriend back in her hometown. I’ve never so much as kissed her.”

“So you pretend she’s your girlfriend?” she asked, twisting her arm free and turning to face me.

“Yeah. We have a movie coming out and my publicist thought it would be good to create a buzz.” I wasn’t being entirely honest with her. “And I had kinda a bad rep back there for a little bit. I’m trying to be taken more seriously, so it seemed like a good idea to appear settled down.” Sinclair was going to be so pissed if he found out that I’d told her this shit without the protection of a confidentiality agreement.

She put her hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes. “You just lie to everyone?”

“It’s Hollywood. That’s how it works.” I took a step closer but she backed away. “I like you. I’ve—” How could I explain that I hadn’t fucked anyone other than a couple of regular girls since I’d signed up to be Audrey’s boyfriend? It made me sound like a douchebag. But I did like her. I liked the way she was busting my balls rather than falling over herself for a repeat performance. I really liked the way the arrangement I had with Audrey seemed so alien to her, because when anyone thought about it, it was pretty fucking ridiculous. I even liked the way she looked at me as if I was kind of an ass for agreeing to it. “I like you, or I wouldn’t have kissed you. I can’t tell you how much shit Sinclair gave me for getting intimate without an NDA. But you were worth the risk. I don’t think about all that crap when I’m with you.”

She rolled her eyes and went back behind the counter. “I’m overwhelmed at the compliment.”

She might not know it, but being with her was a big fucking deal—my reputation, my career, my future was at stake.

“So you won’t say anything? If the tabloids find out, they’ll make me out to be some kind of cheater.”

“When in fact, you’re just a liar.” She flung open the refrigerator and began to put away the groceries she’d carried in with her, practically throwing things onto the shelves.

“Hey, I’m not a liar.” Though I wasn’t exactly telling the truth to the whole world, either. “Anyway, my arrangement with Audrey only lasts until we finish publicity for the film. And then she’s done. She just got engaged.”

“Unbelievable.” Lana shook her head. I seemed to be making things worse, not better.

“It’s just how it is in Hollywood. Your entire life is a show. It’s not like I’m the only one. You know Bradley Bartha? He and that model have a contract.”

Her forehead crinkled. “Don’t be ridiculous. I just read about them in that magazine.” She pointed at the tabloid that had my face on the cover. “They just had a baby.”

“He’s gayer than a gay thing on a gay day. That kid is not his.”

“Well lucky for me, I’ve never slept with Bradley Bartha, but thanks for the heads-up.”

“Lana, come on. Give me a break here—I’d get blackballed if anyone found out what I was telling you.”

She shrugged, picked up an apple from the bowl on the counter and headed toward her couch. “So don’t tell me and get out of my house.”

I sighed. I should just leave. But it wasn’t like we could avoid each other. We lived next door, for fuck’s sake. Besides, I’d like to get to know her a bit more. Our night together had been so much better than I’d thought it would be —Lana was funny, sexy and knew what she wanted. And I hadn’t quite got enough of her when this morning had been cut short.

“I’m having beers on my balcony later. I’d really like you to join me.”

She fell back onto the sofa. “Ask your girlfriend.”

“Fuck, Lana. I told you she’s not my girlfriend.” I ran my fingers through my hair. She wasn’t listening to me at all.

“Why would I believe a word that comes out of your mouth? You’ve lied about everything.” She turned the TV on with the remote, blatantly ignoring me.

“No, I really haven’t. Audrey isn’t my girlfriend—”

“Even if that’s true,” she said, turning to me, her eyes lit with indignation, “and I find that very difficult to believe, given what I’ve read about the two of you, you still didn’t tell me that you were famous.”

“I told you I was an actor. If you don’t go to the movies or open a fucking magazine, why am I the asshole?” And yeah, I’d found it hot that she hadn’t seemed to recognize me, but where was the crime there?

She tapped her knee with the remote, staring blankly at the TV. After a couple of seconds, she announced, “I don’t know why you’re an asshole. I just know that you are.”

She was beyond frustrating. I was getting shit thrown at me from every direction, but I hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Okay. Well, I’m going to take my asshole-self out for a run,” I replied, turning to the door. “Enjoy your magazine.”

This had to be the first time ever an actor had been rejected because he was famous. Wasn’t it meant to be the other way around?

But then, I’d reveled in the fact that she hadn’t recognized me. That Lana had wanted me, Matt, not some Hollywood fantasy. I guess I couldn’t have it both ways. I wanted a slice of reality when I’d come here to Worthington, and I’d gotten my wish.