“He was practically incapable of speaking around you,” I say. “It doesn’t hurt that you’re famous, of course. Bill puts all celebrities on a pedestal.”
“Fame doesn’t seem to intimidate you in the least,” Dylan says. “I love that. It’s really rare.”
“You bastard!”
I jump as Dylan turns in the direction of the scream.
But I don’t even need to look. “That’s Lilla. I’d recognize that shriek anywhere.” I glance at Dylan. “Does Marcus’s girlfriend know about his on-the-road habit?”
Dylan furrows his brow. “I don’t really want to get in the middle of this one. Except that yes, his girlfriend is aware of Marcus’s…” He trails off. “And from what I’ve heard, Lilla knew about his girlfriend before she slept with him.”
“Do you guys get a new girl every time you go on a trip? The entrée and the side dish?”
“Jasalie.” His fingers circle my wrist so I can’t walk away. “I don’t date the way Marcus does, but he doesn’t lie to anybody—his girlfriend and he have an open relationship. Both ways.”
I let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t judge.” And I normally wouldn’t, if I weren’t feeling so vulnerable.
Lilla storms past us in tears.
“Lilla!” I reach out and take her arm. “Are you all right?”
“Marcus White is a bastard!” she shouts.
“I think the whole parking lot already heard that,” I say. “Come on, let’s go inside and talk about it.”
She glances at Dylan as if she just noticed he was there.
“Oh, my God,” she says. “I’m sorry. Let me just go inside and pull myself together. You guys go have fun.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Dylan asks her. “Do you want to come out for dinner with us?”
“I’m fine.” She manages a smile. “I’ve been through worse. Honestly, I’d rather be alone right now.”
I give her a hug and then watch her walk into the lobby alone. My heart feels like it’s breaking for her even though she knew what she was getting into when she started things with Marcus. I still hate seeing her hurting.
Dylan frowns as he looks at my expression. “Maybe dinner isn’t such a good idea after all.”
I swallow. “Maybe not. We can take a raincheck.”
“Okay.”
We stare at each other before I tell him goodbye and turn back for the hotel.
I’ve taken about twenty steps when Dylan catches my elbow from behind, forcing me to stop.
I whip around. “Dylan, let me go.”
“I can’t.” His eyes are filled with confusion, almost like he doesn’t understand the pull between us any more than I do. “I just…can’t.”
I put my hands on his chest. My fingers close over the fabric of his shirt, and I hold on for dear life.
“Are we that scared of this?” he asks me softly. “Is it easier for us to imagine being from two different worlds than to actually take the risk and get to know each other?”
Yes.
No one has ever seen into this side of me before. No one has ever pinned me down and challenged me to do better, to be better. I stare at Dylan as if I’m daring him to take it back. But he stands his ground.
I don’t want to admit that I’ve already fallen for him, that he scares the living daylights out of me, and that I feel like he could break my heart with one wrong move. And I don’t know how to bring up what happened earlier in his hotel room when he made me feel more vulnerable than I’ve ever allowed myself to get with anyone else. So I grasp wildly for something to say, and what comes out is—
