‘The benefits of dating other celebs, right?’ He already made it crystal clear he doesn’t date ordinary girls like me, so why am I bringing it up again?
His strong arms continue securing the base of the tree. I grab the middle of it, balancing it upright while he shovels gravel all around it.
‘It has its advantages.’ He cranes his neck as he glances up at me, tiny delicious beads of sweat dotting his brow. ‘And its drawbacks.’
I look away and swallow hard. God forbid he might think I’m getting clingy or needy. ‘I’ll shut up. It’s really none of my business.’
Though I’m not the one blurting things like ‘this is all mine’in the bedroom. A statement which turned me on and terrified me in equal measure, because if Nate found out what he’s calling as‘all his’is plastered all over the internet, I doubt he’d be too impressed. He told me the first night he rocked up here that he’d never get his junk out on camera.
‘Well, it kind of is your business,’ he grunts, shovelling the last of the gravel into the pot. I chance taking my hands from the trunk, holding my breath. Not because I’m worried it might move, but because I’m waiting to see where Nate’s going with this.
‘If you want it to be.’ He stands, dusts off his hands and takes a step towards me so we’re facing each other.
Those deep green eyes bore into mine. A flicker of something like vulnerability crosses his face. ‘I was wondering if you’d like to come over to the States early in the New Year, for a visit or vacation… No pressure.’
Is he for fucking real?
My movie star crush is inviting me to stay with him in Beverly Hills.
How is this my life?
‘Yes. I’d love to.’
‘You would?’ His tone lifts with surprise.
‘Of course! Apart from the fact I’ve never been to the States before, the chance to spend any extra time with my date for December is enough of an incentive to get me on a plane.’
‘Great.’ His huge chest heaves a sigh of what sounds like relief. ‘It’s just, you know, my lifestyle isn’t for everyone.’
‘Ha,’ I scoff. ‘Yeah, I’m sure there are women who would hate to stay in your Beverly Hills mansion while you spend every night serving up smoking hot sex and bringing them coffee. Let me know when you find one that turns you down.’
‘You’d be surprised.’ He shakes his head, pulling me against him so our bodies are pressed together. ‘It’s not for everyone. My life can get crazy. The media can be cruel. That’s why I don’t date “normal girls”. Don’t get me wrong, I prefer ordinary, real, relatable and genuine over a socialite any day of the week.’ He exhales deeply and rakes his hand through his messy hair.
‘Sorry.’ Those huge green pools that are his eyes drift back to me. ‘That came out wrong. I didn’t mean to call you ordinary. You’re anything but, sweetheart. You’re extraordinary. What I meant to say is there’s a reason I usually stick to dating other celebs.’
‘I guess “normal women” are just so easy…’ A hot hit of shame flashes up my neck as I remember how quickly I fell into bed with him. I’d never have done that if he wasn’t a movie star I’d been crushing on for years, would I?
Scratch that. Given the chemistry between us, I probably would.
‘Oh God, no! Believe me, it’s not that.’ His hands circle my hips, splaying over each of them. ‘Truthfully, I’ve been an idiot. Or a coward might be a more accurate description. The reason I normally date people within my own industry is because they’re not scared off by the limelight. They’re used to having cameras thrust in their faces from every direction and reading bullshit rumours about their partners, which are made up to sell papers.’ He pauses for a split second, a pained expression pinches his face.
My hands dip around his waist, drawing small circles on his back.
‘Sally-Ann, she couldn’t hack the pressure of being hounded, followed, photographed. Eventually, that’s what tore us apart,’ he admits, angling his face towards mine.
‘I’m sorry.’ And I am, genuinely, because even as he says the words, the lingering hurt is visible in those deep swirling eyes.
‘It’s fine. I mean, it was a long time ago. She married… someone else. They have a baby now. She’s happy.’ His pupils flit over my head, seeing something that isn’t here.
‘But are you?’ I place a palm on his right bicep, demanding his attention again.
‘I am now there’s no immediate end date looming on this thing between us.’ His lips press against my forehead in a kiss that’s so tender my heart balloons in my chest. ‘I already told you, I like you. A lot, Holly. More than I thought possible to like anyone. Like is such a shitty word. It doesn’t do justice for what I feel for you. I’m sort of obsessed with you. Am I freaking you out yet?’
Fizzing warmth floods through my veins. ‘No. Would you be freaked out if I told you I painted your portrait?’
‘You did?’ He eyes me dubiously. ‘You know, it’s kind of crazy that I still don’t know your last name. And if I’m going to be booking a flight for you to come Stateside, I’m going to need that kind of information.’
My teeth nibble my lower lip. How can our relationship - if that’s what this even is - progress, if I don’t open up to him?
