As soon as Kaiti closed her bedroom door, my phone started vibrating in my pocket. Taking it out, I shook my head at the name on the screen.

Bryce.

Accepting the call, I stepped over to the window. “Jeez, dude. I just barely got here. What?”

“She let you in?”

“Um, yeah. Barely.”

He sighed in relief. “Where is she now?”

“Changing. We’re going to run an errand and come back here for drinks.”

“Did you get a glimpse of the stun gun?” He tried for a serious tone.

“No, dumbass. I know how not to be a douche, so no threats were necessary.” I chuckled. “Besides, she couldn’t have worn it with what she had on when I got here.”

“And what exactly was she wearing?”

“None of your business, jackass.”

“You suck,” he quipped. “Anyway, do your best here. I’m set on her playing Meadow and we need to get her in here pronto if we want to stay on schedule.”

I pulled my hat up and readjusted it on my head, a habit of mine when I was frustrated. “Look, I said I’d talk to her but I’m not going to be pushy. She needs to choose for herself.”

“Not pushy… persuasive. I know you can do that. If you can’t think of what to say, try to imagine yourself in her place. What would it take for someone to convince you to take the role? What do you wish you’d known before you started out?”

I scoffed, “You don’t want me to answer that, dude. Seriously.”

“What the fuck ever, Lane. You love acting.”

“Acting, yes. The business? Not so much anymore.”

“This business has set you up for life. It’s allowed you to take care of your parents, bought them a place to retire on Maui, provided you with four fucking houses, dozens of cars, and more pussy thrown in your face than a gynecologist… So, tell me again how sick of it you are.”

“Keep talking shit and I’m gonna borrow Kaiti’s stun gun,” I groused. “And money isn’t everything.”

“Easy to say when you have a ton of it.”

I glanced back at the hall and lowered my voice. “And all that pussy you’re so envious of? Attached to women who are only interested in climbing the social ladder. Hell, most of my so-called relationships were arranged for the ratings and you know that better than anyone. So don’t tell me how to feel about being used.”

“Why do you have such a bug up your ass lately?”

“Jesus, Bryce. You’re asking that question while you’re using me yourself. I’m not a head-hunter. But here I am. Why? Because my boss-slash-friend wants to use me as bait.”

He was quiet for a while. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have asked you to go.”

“Damn right you shouldn’t have.” I blew out a breath. “But I’m here now and I actually like her, so I’ll stay. Just know that I’m not promising anything. I won’t force her to hear me out.”

“You won’t have to. I’m telling you, she wants this. She’s just afraid.”

“Maybe,” I hedged.

“What does your gut tell you about her?”

“You’re asking me?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, idiot. I’m asking you to be honest with me, as my friend. Is she all I said she’d be?”

“And then some.” I nodded, smiling. “She’s…”

“Yeah?”

How was I supposed to verbalize something I didn’t understand? “I don’t know. But I want to find out.”

“Exactly what I thought you’d say.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I know everything. And—because I know everything—I’m acutely aware of how much you like dissecting people’s personalities.” His laugh was almost maniacal. “And Kaiti Oliver is loaded with personality. You’re gonna have so much fun with this one, Gav, I’m telling you. I know a perfect fit when I see one.”

“Whatever, fool. Let me off this phone so I can finally spend time with someone who doesn’t have an overinflated ego.”

“Too bad Kaiti won’t have the same luxury,” he retorted, laughing.

“Dick,” I said as I hung up on his snarky ass.

I thumbed through my messages and blew out an annoyed breath. One of the social climbers I’d been strategically seen with a few months back was still burning up my phone. It was getting tiresome. I deleted the entire thread without reading it.

Bryce’s mention of my parents reminded me I needed to text my dad and thank him for the new sunglasses he’d sent. He was always doing stuff like that, scouring the ‘net for things he thought I might like.

He replied almost instantly letting me know to expect more and that Mom sent her love and expected a phone call soon. She wasn’t much for texting, so she usually sent messages via Dad. It was cute how tech-phobic she was.

I needed to make a trip to Maui to see them soon, but even my visits with my parents had started to weigh on me. I couldn’t let them see me as anything but happy or they’d worry themselves sick, so I pretended. Like I did with everyone and everything else in my life.

I glanced around the apartment curiously but didn’t see any family photos anywhere. There were a few of Kaiti and a blonde-haired girl—in matching sunglasses on the beach, laughing together at a bar wearing matching ‘my bestie is better than yours’ shirts, random stuff—but no family stuff. I turned back to the window and wondered what it was like to hang on the beach that way with no one trying to sneak pics of you or running up, invading your space to ask for autographs.

I imagined it was peaceful.

Peace was in short supply for me most of the time.

I envied Kaiti that.

My phone buzzed in my pocket—again—and I desperately wished I could just throw it out the window. I just wanted peace.

A little fucking normalcy.

A few hours where no one wanted anything from me.

Was that really so much to ask?

My phone buzzed again and I sighed, touching my forehead to the cool glass.

Apparently so.

* * *

How is this my life?

I turned off the hair dryer and fluffed my hair in the mirror, frowning at the uneven waves and wishing I had more time to get it under control. But with Gavin-fucking-Lane waiting in my living room, I could ill afford to waste time on trivial stuff. Besides, he’d already seen me in my binge-watching attire, so what was the point in pretending now?

What a great first impression I must have made.

I didn’t have time to be properly mortified but there would be a lot of face-palming and dramatic groans once I got Mr. Hollywood out of my house.

It usually would have made me uneasy to leave a virtual stranger to wander my apartment, but the shock of exactly who was in my apartment overshadowed that particular facet of my anxiety. Temporarily. Evie was the only person on the planet whose welcome never wore out. Famous or not, Gavin’s presence in my home was bound to trigger my anxiety eventually.

I stepped out of my room in my most expensive—forty-five dollars, thank you very much—jeans, a black cotton V-neck tee that hugged my curves without looking painted on, and my favorite navy Chucks. I’d also donned my best, most headlight-hiding bra in case I got ‘cold’ again in Gavin’s presence.

I made my way down the hall toward the living room, hoping to appear more relaxed than I actually felt. “Okay, I’m ready,” I said as I popped around the corner to find Gavin standing at the bay windows, looking out over the city with a half-smile.

He turned to me and instead of leveling off, his smile got wider—and blindingly beautiful. “You look nice, Kaiti.” He quirked a brow. “Or should I call you Kaiti-fucking-Oliver to even the playing field?”

“Ha ha, Mr. Hollywood. You have an actual sense of humor that doesn’t come from a script. Color me surprised.” I smirked.

Okay, maybe I was handling it better than I thought. Or my tenuous grip on sanity had finally slipped and some other personality—let’s call her Cool Kaiti—had taken over. Either way, it was better than giggling like a moron and stumbling over my words, which is how I would have expected this to go.

Gavin chuckled in that gravelly way that I’d always found incredibly sexy. Only in person, it was ten times as potent as on TV. With him standing only a few feet away, I felt the sound all the way to my toes—which curled in response.

“I’m hilarious, I’ll have you know, Kaiti-fucking-Oliver. They have to dial it back for the show or my hilarity would overshadow the storyline.”

It was my turn to laugh. “Funny and modest. Great combo.” I reached over and grabbed my jacket from the hook in the foyer, nodding for him to follow me out.

That wasn’t good enough for him, apparently, since he stepped ahead of me to open the door and waited to take my arm after I’d locked up behind us.

“Guess I’ll add gentlemanly to the list,” I said, torn between teasing and being truly impressed.

He put his other hand over mine as it rested on his biceps, the one I was trying desperately not to picture myself licking. “I’m the whole package. Hadn’t you heard?”

I rolled my eyes. “I read that somewhere, but I like to make up my own mind about people, Gavin.”

“How am I doing so far?” he asked as we waited for the elevator.

“Well, I’m not sure, to be honest. I mean, I bet no woman on earth ever fantasized about Gavin-fucking-Lane telling them to put more clothes on. Just sayin’.”

He laughed, making my heart skip. “I see I’m not the only one with a good sense of humor.”

“I didn’t say yours was good; I merely noted how surprised I was that you had one.”

He waited for me to enter the elevator ahead of him and chuckled. “I have a feeling tonight’s going to be one for the record books.”

I didn’t bother mentioning that it already was for me.

* * *

As soon as we stepped onto the sidewalk in front of her building, I pulled my cap low and slipped on my dark shades. The urge to openly stare at her was driving me crazy, but I knew she’d call me on it and I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Still, if ever there was a puzzle I wanted to answer, it was Kaiti Oliver. From the moment Bryce had told me about her, I’d known I had to meet her. But I hadn’t been prepared for this, for her.

“My car’s right over here,” she said, pointing in the opposite direction of where I parked. “The tint’s really dark, you know, in case I’m harboring a celebrity in my passenger seat.”

I nudged her arm as she began to turn in that direction and nodded down the block where my rental was parked at the curb. “Mine’s right there. And, being the celebrity to which you referred, I also have heavy tint. You know, so no one can tell when I’m chauffeuring around a commoner like yourself. I could get kicked out of the club for this, after all.”

She nodded. “Touché.”

I offered my arm, as I had upstairs, but instead of taking it, she just smiled and waved for me to lead the way. Her eyes darted all around like she was expecting an ambush or something, but she maintained a leisurely pace at my side.

When we drew near my car, she looked it over with a curious expression. “This is yours?”

“What? Expecting a Porsche?” I teased as I moved to open her door.

She frowned a little, causing a small line to form between her brows. Her inky dark eyes narrowing in thought. “No, not exactly. But this…” She swept her hand in the direction of the car. “There are fifty of these in the parking lot of the crappy factory where I work. It’s just so…”

“Non-descript?”

Realization dawned in her eyes as she folded herself into the passenger seat. “Ah, I get it. You’re hiding. Blending in so people don’t know who you are.”

“Exactly.” If she only knew how right she was. On a lot of levels.

I slid into my seat, started the engine, and got some air flowing through the vents—it was stuffy but not particularly hot—before turning to ask her where the closest liquor store was.

When my eyes found her face, though, the question went right out of my mind. She was looking at me with such a sweet, genuine smile on her face that it stole my breath. I just sat there for a second, taking her in while trying not to make her uncomfortable. My dark glasses helped hide it, but it was still obvious. Needing to distract her from the fact that I was memorizing every nuance of her expression, I asked, “Why are you smiling at me like that?”

The edges of her mouth lifted even further. “Because I realized we have something in common—hiding.” Her eyes roamed my face in the same way mine roamed over hers.

“You’re not hiding now,” I told her in a near-whisper, my gaze lingering on her mouth. She knew I was staring, but she wasn’t shying away like she had upstairs.

“No, I’m not,” she admitted. “I don’t know why, but I don’t feel like I need to right now.”

I slid my sunglasses off, eyes not wavering from her sweet face. “How about now?”

“Nope.” She reached out and took the glasses from my hand. Our fingers brushed and the contact sent a jolt all the way up my arm. “Tell me, did you take these off to see me better or so that I could see you? Are you still hiding, Mr. Hollywood?”

Her question threw me because I realized it was both. I desperately wanted to see her but more than that, I needed her to see me. And that was something I’d never experienced, not since getting into the business anyway. Every time you talked to someone, you had to try to decipher their motives. So many people mishandled what they knew about you, bent it and twisted it to use as ammunition against you later down the line. It was cut-throat sometimes, which meant not letting anyone in, not letting them see who you really were.

So why did I care now?

Why did it feel like I didn’t have to guard myself with her or decipher her motives?

I had no idea what it was about this girl, but she made me want to be seen, if only by her.

“No hiding. Not from you.”

She blinked slowly, nodding. “And you don’t know why either, do you?”

“Not a damn clue.”

Her smile widened and she nodded. “Guess we get to figure that part out together.” She shifted around to face forward and pointed down the street. “Let’s see if alcohol helps, shall we?”

“Couldn’t hurt,” I agreed as I pulled away from the curb.

As it turned out, the liquor store was only a mile or so away, so we got there in no time. When we arrived, Kaiti held up the sunglasses she’d been holding onto and said, “You can have these back, but you’ll have to take them off before you go in. No sunglasses or hoodies allowed inside.”

I shook my head. “Nah. It’s not far and I’ll keep my head down. The hat stays, though, because hat hair is a bitch.”

“No rule against hats, lucky for you,” she chuckled.

I reached into the back seat and grabbed one of my spares. Without asking, I put it on her head and grinned. “Lucky for both of us, you mean.”

She reached up to take it off and I grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “No, don’t take it off. You look great in a hat.”

“I highly doubt—”

I pulled down the visor so she could see herself in the mirror. “Like I said, you look great.” I was being goofy and playful, something I hadn’t done in…hmm…I couldn’t remember the last time.

She tugged her wrist from my hand and straightened the cap on her head, fidgeting with her hair until it hung just right. “Okay, it’s not the worst I’ve ever looked.” She flipped the visor up and sighed, shaking her head. “Now, can we get our hooch and head back, I’m in desperate need of a stiff drink.”

The twelve-year-old boy in me chuckled. And apparently, the twenty-three-year-old on the outside did too, because she blushed and shoved my arm. “Shut up, Gavin.”

Damn, I loved the way she said my name. “What?” I asked, hoping she’d say it again.

“I said shut it, you perv. I know what that little laugh meant.”

Dammit, she didn’t say it.

“Sorry, I’m being a goofball, but in my defense, I rarely get like this so it’s probably your fault more than mine.”

“Oh, whatever. It’s not my fault you’re immature.” She rolled her eyes, laughing softly, and unbuckled her seatbelt before reaching for the door handle. “You coming or what?”

Dammit, she still didn’t say my name and now she’d gone and fed my inner tween by asking if I was ‘coming.’

Yep, definitely gonna be a night for the record books.

* * *

“We bought way too much liquor. You know that, right?” I asked as we unpacked the bags.

“No such thing. Besides, we needed variety. Options are always good because different drinks go with different moods.”

I snorted and looked at the line of bottles on the counter. “Well, we’ve got enough to run the gambit, that’s for sure.”

“When I asked the clerk if they had a bigger cart, he didn’t even crack a smile.”

“He probably thought you were about to rob him. Your hat was pulled so far down, your eyes were totally covered, and the way you kept your head down basically screamed ‘hiding from the surveillance cameras.’”

“Point taken. But still, I was being hilarious and he didn’t even appreciate it.”

“I laughed, does that make you feel better?” I asked as I began making a batch of Junior Mints—a combination of peppermint Schnapps and Kahlua over ice.

“I was doing it specifically to make you laugh, so yes, it does.”

“Why be silly just for me?” I shook my head. “I knew you were immature before we went in there, so it was wasted effort, don’t you think?”

“Nothing that makes you smile is wasted effort, Kaiti,” he said.

My God, was he flirting with me? It felt like he was flirting.

“You’re really something, you know that?” He was so close I could feel the heat of his body; our skin was not quite touching but close enough.

My heart jumped a little as I turned and met his gaze. He was watching me again, assessing and studying.

“Something good or something bad?” I could barely breathe under his scrutiny, and not because of my anxiety.

“Something amazing. And feisty. And beautiful.”

Beautiful.

I forced a swallow, having a hard time keeping my eyes off his mouth even as I considered that his words rang false. “You don’t mean that.”

He frowned. “Excuse me?”

“You spend every day of your life surrounded by the most beautiful women on the planet. You’ve dated more models than I can count. How the hell could you look at that all day and still think someone as plain as me is beautiful?”

“You can’t be serious. How do you not get told how gorgeous you are all the time?” He looked genuinely appalled that no one was gushing about my looks.

The mere thought of that happening made my palms sweat.

I shook my head and sighed. “Just forget it, okay.”

“Fine, but I have to say, this is a first.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning most of the women I’ve encountered would have appreciated the compliment, not been offended by it.”

“I’m not offended. Just wary.”

“Of me?” He put a hand to his chest. “Why?”

“Because guys use compliments like that when they want something. And I know you came here wanting something, so it feels… insincere.”

“I can assure you that I meant what I said. And I don’t want anything from you, Bryce does. He’s the one who asked me to come, to talk to you about auditioning, but I have no intention of coercing you into something you don’t want to do.”

“Then why are you still here?” I didn’t mean it as rudely as it came out, but I didn’t understand what made him want to stay or why I found myself so happy that he had.

He shrugged. “It’s nice here. Quiet and comfortable. And it’s nice to be around someone who doesn’t want anything from me aside from my company.”

“And my company is enough for you?”

“Absolutely.” His smile was genuine and sweet. A moment later it disappeared as his phone started buzzing in his pocket. “Dammit,” he muttered, pulling it out and placing it face down on the counter without looking at the screen. “Sorry about that.”

I nodded to where it was still vibrating. “I guess I can understand why quiet is so appealing to someone like you.”

“You have no idea.” He adjusted his hat, lifting and tugging it back down a few times until he was satisfied with how it felt. “I’m not supposed to turn the phone completely off—my publicist freaks out—but I do occasionally forget to charge it so that it’s dead for a few hours.”

“Good strategy,” I smirked.

He touched his pointer finger to his temple, winking. “See, Kaiti-fucking-Oliver, I’m not just a pretty face.”

“Beauty and brains, you really are the whole package,” I said as sarcastically as possible.

“Hold it. If I can’t comment on your beauty, you can’t comment on mine. It’s only fair.”

“I didn’t…” I trailed off. “But I only said it because you… Dammit, why do I feel like I was set up?”

“I merely left the opening, you’re the one who stepped through it.”

“Jerk,” I grumped, crossing my arms.

“Beautiful,” he countered, adding a long, slow wink just to be facetious.

I wanted to argue further but I couldn’t stop smiling long enough to feign annoyance. I wasn’t imagining it. Gavin-fucking-Lane was flirting with me. “Drink?”

A look of triumph on his face, he nodded. “Please.”

I went to set the pitcher on the counter so I could grab our glasses but I was a little distracted by the way Gavin was looking at me and accidentally set it down too forcefully, sending some of the contents sloshing out of the pour spout. I snatched his phone out of the way before the liquid could reach it and watched as Gavin’s quick reflexes kicked in.

Before anything could run off onto the floor, he had one of my kitchen towels in hand, mopping it all up.

“Shit, sorry,” I muttered, wiping the front of his phone down my thigh, in case it had gotten wet.

“No biggie. It wasn’t that much.”

“I don’t think it got your phone,” I told him, still wiping it on my jeans.

“Wouldn’t matter if it did. Seriously, it’s okay.”

Relieved, I turned it over to double check that it was dry. The screen lit up in my hand and I froze at the message there.

Bryce: Did you win her over yet, slick? Play it like I told you to and we’re golden.

“Where do you want me to put this?” Gavin said, indicating the wet towel. When our eyes met, his smile vanished. “What’s wrong?”

I swallowed thickly and handed him the phone. He dropped the towel onto the counter as he frowned down at the screen.

“Get out.”

His head jerked up. “What?”

“Get. The. Fuck. Out,” I choked out, on the verge of tears.

Dammit. He’d been playing me this whole time.

“Kaiti.” He held up the phone. “This isn’t what you think. He’s just—”

“I don’t want to hear it. Just go.” I marched over to the door and opened it wide, stepping aside so he had no reason to touch me on the way by. “Beautiful, my ass. I fucking knew it,” I muttered mostly to myself as I waited.

He tried to argue with me even as he complied and made his way out the door. At the last second, he turned and placed his palm flat against its surface. “Kaiti, please, I wasn’t trying to—”

I cut him off, pushing a little so he’d move his hand. “Goodbye, Gavin. Tell Bryce I said to fuck off. And you can feel free to join him.”

With that, I slammed the door and locked it, angry tears gathering in my eyes.

How could I have been so gullible?

I went back to the kitchen, pacing back and forth from the stove to the doorway. Tap, tap, tap. I stopped and glanced at what was left of the pitcher of drinks. I didn’t even bother with a cup. I just picked the pitcher up with one hand and drank right out of it.

My free hand was far from idle.

Tap, tap, tap.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

* * *

“What the hell just happened?” I muttered as I stared at the door that had so recently slammed in my face. Glancing down the hall, I felt totally alone and that was such a strange thing for me—almost as strange as having a woman tell me to fuck off without batting an eye. I was rarely this shocked. And even less frequently cussed out.

Guess there’s a first time for everything.

I hadn’t had anyone look at me like that in…shit…ever. Sure, not all of my experiences with women ended amicably—but that was more because of their need for drama than anything I’d done.

No, the way Kaiti had dismissed me was something I’d never experienced in my life.

She was just so…

I didn’t even know if there was a word to describe it. She was everything I’d said—amazing, feisty, beautiful—but there was something else. She was genuine. Fearless.

And pissed off at me, which I found oddly unsettling. I didn’t want her to be angry with me, and I didn’t want her to think I was playing her. Any other time, I’d shrug it off and walk away, not giving a shit one way or the other, but this was different. She was different.

I glared at the phone in my hand and thought seriously about slamming it against the fucking wall. Bryce and his stupid, shitty timing. Instead, I turned it off—my publicist could kiss my ass if he didn’t like it.

I kept glancing at her door and thinking about how hurt she’d looked when she saw that text. Her expression, the way she shut right down, it reminded me of…me.

Maybe I should have come on my own, foregone the flowers from Bryce and just shown up to shake the hand of the woman who had hilariously threatened to taser a major Hollywood icon for being a pompous ass and ruining her lunch.

I should have been me from the beginning.

Too late for that now. Now she’s convinced that it was all an act, something I staged to get her to work on the show. Dammit.

For the next few minutes, I lingered in the hall, grateful that none of the doors had peepholes so her neighbors wouldn’t think I was some crazed stalker. I paced and pondered, ground my teeth and considered my options until I was worried I’d wear a groove in the carpet if I didn’t stop this shit and make a decision.

Staring at her closed door, I scratched at the scruff along my jaw—the stubble was required for the show but annoying as hell—and decided I wasn’t going to let her slam her mask back in place, and I wasn’t letting her force me back into mine either.

I stepped over and knocked on the door.

There was no immediate response, but I thought I heard movement from inside. Instead of knocking again, I spoke through the closed door. “Kaiti? It’s me, Gavin-fucking-Lane. You know, the guy you told to fuck off for something someone else texted him? Well, I have something to say.”

The shuffling sound grew closer and I heard a long, tired sigh. “Decide to run a new con, did you?” Her voice was weary and annoyed.

“Nope. I decided you owe me an apology.”

“What?” I could almost see the incredulous look on her face.

“You owe me an apology,” I told her in a slow, measured tone. “It would also be rude to deliver said apology through a closed door, so how about opening up and looking me in the eye?”

“You’re insane.”

“What? I can’t hear you through this giant slab of wood between us. Maybe you should open up so I can understand what you’re saying.” No response. “Aw, come on… You can even make a snarky remark about the ‘giant slab of wood’ comment. I know you’re dying to,” I teased.

“You know nothing. And I have no interest in discussing any allegedly giant slabs of wood with you.”

I chuckled despite myself. “How about a compromise? I won’t make you apologize for cussing me out, and you get to keep the hat you were still wearing when you tossed me out on my ass.” No reply. “We can start over.” Crickets. “I won’t ask you to audition. I won’t mention Bryce in any favorable context. Hell, I won’t even tell you you’re beautiful. But you can’t call me hot, either, or all bets are off.”

“Why would I call you hot?” She was so close to the door I could see the shadow of her dainty little feet.

“You already did, remember? When I first arrived with the flowers? And if I remember correctly, I didn’t tell you to fuck off or anything. I simply took the compliment and moved on.”

She still didn’t open the door, but she hadn’t walked away yet, either.

“C’mon, Kaiti.” I leaned my forehead against the door and tried to sound pitiful. “If you don’t let me in, you’ll have to finish that whole pitcher of drinks alone, and I’ll have to go back to that liquor store to get my own supply of booze. You and I both know that clerk will call the cops if I come in there again tonight.”

I could feel her fumbling with the door, so I stepped back, hoping there wasn’t a red spot on my forehead where it had been pressed to the wood.

Kaiti opened the door and motioned for me to come in, muttering, “Fine, but only because you wouldn’t last two minutes in jail.”

“Because I’m just that hot?” I offered a cheesy grin.

“No, because your piss poor attempts at humor would surely get you shanked.”

* * *

“This stuff tastes like toothpaste,” I grimaced, looking into my glass.

“It does not. It tastes like mint ice cream but better because it gets you drunk,” Kaiti argued as she sipped her drink, her dark eyes on my glass. We’d settled at the dining table after she poured us both a glass of the minty atrocity I was now forcing myself to swallow.

“Agree to disagree,” I offered, giving her a smile.

We’d had to push the flower arrangement aside so we could see each other around it, but now Kaiti’s eyes fell on the full blooms and her own smile slipped.

“What are you thinking?” I asked, watching as she carefully ran her fingertips over a few of the soft pink petals.

“A lot of things.” Her voice was soft, distant.

“Care to discuss any of it?”

She turned to meet my gaze and gave me a sweet smile. “Not really.”

I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment. “That’s okay. I don’t expect you to—”

“I’m sorry, Gavin.”

Her words threw me off for a moment, and I shook my head, not understanding.

“You were right. I do owe you an apology for being so rude before. I overreacted. You can’t control what Bryce says or does, something I know from my own limited experiences with him. And I believe you when you say you weren’t trying to manipulate me when you called me beautiful.” Her hand started to move across the table toward mine, but she stopped, pulling it back before wrapping her arms around herself as if she were cold. “Clearly, I don’t know how to take a compliment.”

“You might need a little practice, but I don’t mind helping with that. Because I was being honest, you really are beautiful.” I gave her a wink and my most dazzling smile. “Now that I know I won’t get cussed out, I’ll tell you more often so you can work on your response. For the record, it’s usually standard to say something like ‘thank you.’”

“But ‘fuck off’ comes so naturally to me,” she groused.

“I hadn’t noticed,” I said dryly, loving the small laugh that escaped her.

With another wink—she blushed every time I did it, so I planned to do it a lot—I finished off my god-awful drink and headed to the kitchen to get myself something different. I’d suspected I wouldn’t like the minty stuff, which was why I picked up so many other options.

My glass thankfully refilled with an aged Kentucky bourbon, I returned to the table.

I’d barely settled my ass into the seat when Kaiti asked, “What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?”

“Being you.”

I frowned over at her as she refilled her glass from the pitcher on the table. “Care to be more specific? I mean, is this the ‘what’s it like to be a guy’ question? Because I’m not sure I could accurately explain how it feels to have a penis.”

“That’s not what—”

“Oh wait, I have the perfect description. At least as far as my own experience goes.”

She tilted her head in an adorably curious way. She was clearly interested, even though that wasn’t what she’d originally wanted to know. “Okay, I’ll play along. How does it feel to have a penis?”

I leaned forward, looking her right in the eye as I told her in a deadly serious voice, “Heavy.”

She burst out laughing and nearly knocked over her drink in the process, and I couldn’t help joining her. Her laugh was addictive. It wasn’t that fake-ass laugh I was used to from people in the business. It wasn’t practiced and perfect. It was giggles and cute little snorts and her head carelessly thrown back with no regard to lighting or angle; it was real. Like her.

And I wanted more.

More of her laugh.

More of her charm.

More of her fearlessness.

More of her.

When our laughter died, I sat back in my chair and nodded. “Okay, okay, seriously. You want to know what it’s like to be me, but I want to know you better too. So, I’ll tell you at least some of what you want to know and you tell me some of what I want to know. Sound fair?”

She pursed her lips for a moment in thought, then took another long swallow of her drink. I tried not to stare as her eyes fell closed and she made a soft mmm sound, but I couldn’t help myself. She really was beautiful, even if—for some unfathomable reason—she couldn’t see it.

I averted my eyes just in time to avoid being caught checking her out.

“Okay, but you first. Tell me what it’s like to be a famous actor.”

I didn’t really think of myself as all that famous, though I knew it was pointless to tell Kaiti that. Instead, I thought for a minute and went with, “It’s a lot more work than people think. It’s always being ‘on,’ always smiling, always laughing at stupid jokes because the person delivering them has the power to ruin you if you don’t. It’s never having any time to yourself or being able to do small things like have dinner without the waitress sneaking pics for her Facebook or see a concert without bodyguards and reporters up your ass.” I stopped and looked around the room. “This is the longest I’ve been on my own in months and, even now, I know if I bothered to turn my phone back on, I’d have a ton of messages asking where I am or wanting me to make an appearance at some new place to give it the celebrity endorsement. Or Bryce will have left a dozen messages wanting to know how it went tonight. Everyone wants something from me all the damn time and it’s exhausting.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be. I’m making it sound worse than it is, mostly because I want you to know what you’d be signing on for if you came to work on the show. That text you saw from Bryce? He wanted me to paint it as the greatest job in the world, find whatever speech I would have wanted to hear in your place, but I don’t want you to go in blind or be naive like I was when I started out. That being said…it’s a lot of shit, but it’s also all kinds of awesome too.”

“Fast cars and faster women?” she joked.

“Nah, that’s not as interesting as it sounds, either. I never get time to hit the road in my cars, and the women…”

“Don’t tell me you don’t get time to spend with them. I see the pics everywhere; online, on the front of those gossip magazines at the checkout counter, on the news.” She didn’t sound judgmental about it and almost seemed to think it was funny. “Never the same girl twice, Mr. Hollywood.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “Don’t believe everything you see. Some of those women—I’d dare say most of them—were paired with me for the publicity. When a new show emerges and they need a boost in interest, they set it up so one of the lead actors or actresses is seen in public with a more popular or noteworthy escort.”

Her brows rose. “I knew it! I told my friend Evie that there was no way some of those on-set love affairs were legit.”

“Ratings, scandal, and media buzz. The holy trinity of the entertainment world.”

“Okay, so if you can’t drive your fancy cars and you don’t get to pick your own dates most of the time, why stay in the business? Where’s the awesome?”

“The awesome part for me is the actual acting. It’s being all these people, getting inside their heads and letting them become part of who you are for a while. It’s like gaming the system; getting more than one life because you get to live as those characters too.”

She was watching me with a small smile, the left corner of her mouth rising slightly higher than the right. That crooked grin made me want to kiss her.

Desperately.

Instead, I smiled back and asked the same question I’d asked in the car. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

She shrugged and there was a tinge of sadness in her eyes. “Because I think you’re incredibly brave.”

“Brave? How so?” I frowned.

“Most people don’t even have the courage to be themselves, much less dozens of other people. And you do it all so well. It must take a lot of guts to do what you do.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think it’s brave at all.”

“Agree to disagree,” she said, taking a sip of her drink.

I could have argued the point with her all night, but I didn’t. I liked that she thought of me that way—that she saw me as courageous.

Even if it was as far from the truth as she could get.