When she entered the living room, she found him kicked back on the couch, one ankle crossed over his knee. Upon hearing her approach, he turned and smiled at her. Oh, God. The smile that melted the hearts of women all across the world was directed at her. “I’m happy to see that Tinkerbell is still alive and kicking.”
Lacey looked at the small mutt lying in front of the fireplace, snoring away in doggie-land. “Yeah. My parents worried she might be too old to be boarded. Do you have any pets in Cali?”
“Do a publicist and agent count?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Only if you have to feed them and take them for walks.”
“Then the answer is no.” He scratched his head. “Not even a goldfish. But I’m not home enough for anything to rely on me for food and water.”
She sat down next to him, keeping a respectable distance between them, and reached for the bottle. He beat her to it. She watched him pour them both a glass, his hands steady and sure, and tucked her own trembling fingers in between her knees, squeezing them hard.
Her body thrummed to life around him—just as it had in high school. Though it had been years since she saw him, her attraction to him was stronger than ever. Of course, she’d had the benefit of watching him in movies over the years, whereas he did not seem to care what she’d been up to.
She’d gone to college, gotten a job in the same elementary school they had attended, then gotten engaged. The disaster of an engagement resulted in heartbreak a few months ago. End of her boring life story. She swore off men after that, and wasn’t about to give in to her desire to throw herself at him for a night of fun.
Was she? No. She wouldn’t.
Needing to do something besides stare at his ridiculously long eyelashes—seriously, what man needed eyelashes so thick and dark?—she stood and headed for the TV. Bending over, she shuffled through the selection of movies in search of National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. “Want to watch a movie?”
“Sure.” He stood up and handed her a glass. “I’m thinking a holiday classic is in order.”
She extracted a hand, begging it silently not to shake, and then turned her focus back to the DVDs. The full force of his green eyes on her was almost enough to turn her into a bumbling idiot. He’d always had that effect on her, and she hated it. She was an adult, damn it. Not some lovesick teenage girl. “I watch the same movie every Christmas with my family. This is the first year I’ll be watching it without them.”
“National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation? It’s right there, on the left.”
A breath caught in her throat, attempting to cut off her supply of oxygen. He remembered her favorite movie? When had she told him about her Christmas tradition? It had to have been at least ten years ago. She picked up the movie and looked at him, hugging the disk to her chest. “How do you remember my favorite Christmas movie?”
“Why wouldn’t I remember it?”
“I don’t know.”
His eyes met hers, sending a wave of heat through her. She had the urge to grab him by the shoulders and smash her lips on his just for the hell of it. How many actresses had gotten paid to do that? But Lacey didn’t need money. She just wanted him.
No, she couldn’t do that. She’d been through enough disastrous relationships, and had no desire to go back there with a man whose job consisted of kissing gorgeous women on a daily basis. No, thank you.
He took a sip of his drink then raised the glass to her. “I remember pretty much everything you ever told me. I’ve got a good memory.”
“Oh.” She looked away from him, needing to separate herself from his intoxicating stare. “Yeah, that makes sense. Actors have to remember all of their lines, and the actions to go with their lines. An eye roll here. A dramatic gasp there.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much all there is to my life anymore.”
“If your career is based off you memorizing things, why didn’t the math I tried to teach you ever stick in that photographic memory of yours?”
He pried the movie out of her fingers and popped it open before sliding the DVD into the player. “Because I was too busy staring at you to pay attention, more than likely.”
She blinked at him, fighting the long forgotten yet somehow familiar urge to smile back at him and flirt. They’d always flirted and teased each other as kids, and he was acting as if nothing changed in that quarter. Well, duh. His job required him to be a charming, handsome man that women would fall in love with over and over again in movies. Of course he would continue the front in her living room. Of course he would pretend that he actually liked her—or even thought she was pretty. If she wanted to go and read more into his words than the role he played in life, then she was a fool.
She took a sip of champagne before answering, needing a few seconds to compose her answer. This easy banter might come easily to him, but for her it had been a long time. Ever since Joe broke her heart and left her alone, she hadn’t exactly been big on flirting and laughing with men. And tonight didn’t feel like an exception. Instead of coming up with a teasing reply, she simply said what was on her mind. “I doubt that.”
He flushed and dragged a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch after I left. I got your emails, but didn’t have time to write back.”
She shook her head. “You don’t have to apologize to me. It’s not a big deal. I mean, it’s not like we were dating or something.”
“I know.” He looked down at the TV, his jaw tense. “Still, I’m sorry.”
She swallowed another sip of her drink, struggling to get past her throbbing throat. When he’d left, she’d checked her email several times a day for a few months, eagerly waiting to hear from him. He’d promised to write her every day, so she could live vicariously through his exciting life. Every day she woke up, expecting for the first email to hit her inbox.
When no such letter came, she had realized all those nights spent studying together on her parents’ couch had meant something entirely different to him than it had to her. To her, it had been the highlight of her weekends. To him, it had probably been nothing more than a way to graduate and leave the small town he hated so much. To hear he regretted not keeping in touch both warmed her heart and saddened her.
“I kept up on you,” she said, giving him a small smile. “Eve told me all about your auditions, and after you made it big, I couldn’t have avoided seeing your face even if I wanted to.”