She punched the numbers into the keypad that rested on a pillar, car height. The gate opened and she drove inside, curious if there was any significance to the code.
“My birthday,” he said, startling her again by reading her thoughts. “One-thirty-one, January thirty-first.”
“Oh.” It struck her then that there were so many things they didn’t know about one another. Birthdays, likes, dislikes, habits, the list went on. They were having a child together and yet were almost complete strangers in the truest sense of the word.
That thought made her very uneasy as she parked her car. She hit the ignition button and glanced at him again, wondering how in the world they were ever going to make this work. For the first time, her life was no longer predictable and compartmentalized. She didn’t know what to expect from one moment to the next.
Logan opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. “Come inside with me?”
“Okay,” she said against her better judgment, the same judgment she’d ignored five months ago when she had a fling with him.
They both got out of the car, Claire heading for the front walk and Logan toward the side entrance. She stopped and turned back to follow him. Logan gave her a wry half-grin. “I always use this door. The front door makes me feel like I don’t belong.”
Claire didn’t know which touched her more, Logan’s feeling that way or his admission to her. But she didn’t have long to ponder it, because the door opened in the next instant to reveal a familiar-looking man.
“Hey, Loge,” the man said, flashing a beautiful smile that extended to Claire when he noticed her. He stepped back, allowing them entrance, and Claire found herself staring at him. He was tall, with blond hair and perfect features that would have looked pretty on any other man. There was something about him. He was straight off the cover of a magazine.
“Hi,” Claire said with a smile, feeling slightly awkward at Logan’s lack of introduction. She hadn’t known he had a roommate. “I’m Claire. Logan was having a migraine, so I drove him home from work.” It hit her as she paused, why he looked so oddly familiar. “Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like Derek Shaw?”
He grinned at her. “All the time. IamDerek Shaw. It’s nice to meet you, Claire.” He offered her a hand to shake and she took it, shocked.
Derek Shaw was a famous Hollywood actor, had been for years. What in the world was he doing at Logan’s house? She looked back at Logan and he gave her a smile that was really more of a grimace. “I’d love to explain. Some other time.”
“Oh. Of course.” Claire had been so caught up in the initial shock of seeing Derek Shaw that she’d forgotten Logan’s migraine for a moment. “You should lie down.”
“Yes.” He looked down at her, his face unnaturally pale. “Thank you.”
Claire heard the gratitude in his voice and it warmed her. “It was nothing,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, trying to dispel the disturbing feelings she was beginning to have for the man. “I should go. Do you need anything before I leave?”
“No.” He gave her a pained smile. “I’ll be fine after I lie down for a while.”
Logan leaned over, pressed a kiss to her cheek and left Claire and Derek alone. Awkward silence reigned for a few moments.
“It was good of you to bring him home,” Derek said finally, looking down at her with unabashed curiosity.
“I was worried about him.” She had the distinct impression that he knew more about her than she did about him. “Does he have these spells often?”
Derek ran a hand through his hair. “To be honest with you, I didn’t know he had them at all.”
Claire’s own curiosity prompted her then. “How do you know Logan?”
“That’s a long story.” He paused and shoved his hands in his pockets, not looking at all like the confident Hollywood hunk he appeared to be onscreen. “We ended up at the same foster home for a while. We’ve stayed close over the years and the miles.”
“He never told me.” Of course, there were lots of things Logan had never told her.
“I’m hardly anything to brag about. Hell, he was probably intentionally keeping the fact that we’re friends a secret. I can’t blame him.”
Claire searched Derek’s gaze for signs of mirth, but found none. He was utterly serious about himself, she realized, wondering how a famous, gorgeous Hollywood actor could think so little of himself. She racked her mind for snippets of gossip she’d read about him over the years in hair salon gossip magazines and recalled a mentioning of drug and alcohol. It was a shame that a man so successful could still be so vulnerable to downfall.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” she reassured him. “Logan just doesn’t typically volunteer personal information.” And that was really beginning to bother her. If he wanted a relationship with her, which she was still seriously doubting, he’d have to open up to her first.
“He’s a private man,” Derek agreed. “More so than even I am, I think. Speaking of which, I’d really like to keep my whereabouts a secret for right now.”
Claire raised a brow. “You ruined my plan to go home and call the tabloids.”
Derek grimaced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Logan trusts you, so I trust you. I just didn’t want you to mention it to a friend who—”
“Who would call up the tabloids without conscience,” she finished. “Clearly I look like someone with questionable taste in friends.”
