I push his hand away. He hesitates and then slowly puts it back. I let it stay this time.
As we drive, out of the corner of my eye, I notice him lean back and relax against his seat. His hand feels so damn good on my thigh. And I find myself saying, “I pick the movie.”
I can hear the smile in his voice. “Works for me.”
* * *
A single cameraman greets us when we step out of the car in the hotel parking lot. But hotel security is there to escort him away, and Dylan ushers me inside the hotel quickly. I’m nervous Lilla will see us in the lobby, or the elevator, or the walk down the hall to my room. But she doesn’t. In fact, the lobby’s nearly empty when we arrive.
As soon as we get inside my room, I drag the small armchair over to the bed and take a seat on it.
“You can have the bed,” I say.
Dylan smiles. But he doesn’t say anything. He sits down on the end of the bed, close to the television, and I use the remote to access the movie options.
“Hmmm. Drama or comedy?” I ask him. “Or something else, like the kids’ section?”
“Let’s go for comedy,” he suggests. “I don’t like sad movies.”
Neither do I. In fact, I hate all dramatic movies for the most part. Too depressing.
“What’s under that towel?” he asks as he points at my hidden ball of clay.
“Oh.” I’m self-conscious for some reason. It’s like Dylan’s already learning too much about me way too quickly. “Just some clay. I sculpt now and again.”
“Really?” His eyes brighten. “That’s cool. What’s that one?”
“It was something, but I smashed it,” I say. “So right now, it’s nothing.”
I flip to the comedic choices.
“Beverly Hills Cop,” we say at the same time.
I start laughing. “Are you serious?”
“I love that movie.”
“Me too.”
Our eyes catch and hold. Then my gaze shifts to his lips, and I suddenly want to do dirty things to that mouth of his.
He breaks the moment. “Let me pay for the movie?”
“I’ve got this one.”
“So does that mean there’ll be another?” he asks me.
I turn away from him and busy myself with the remote. “Of course. We agreed to be seen in public for the next few days right? So I assume that means we’ll have to actually get together.” I let out a nervous laugh.
“I meant away from the public.” His voice is smooth and low, but I hear his breath catch, and I snap my gaze up to meet his. “Are you okay to hang out in private again?”
I clear my throat. Yes. I’m already hardly able to remember what my life was like before Dylan was in it. It’s like going from black and white to color, which just proves what I knew from the beginning.
Dylan Wild is dangerous.
I nod slowly. “We can try hanging out and keep getting to know each other like we agreed on. But I should warn you now—I don’t open up easily. Very few people know the real me.”
He reaches out and strokes my hair. Just for a second, but I get goosebumps all down my arms and legs. As well as other places.
