“Isn’t that what you insist on being called?”
“No! I thought it was some in-joke I wasn’t getting—apparently there are memes about me.” He shook his head. “Mr. Hart. It always makes me think my dad is standing right behindme. Another thing you should know about me, Lana? My life is batshit crazy.”
It seemed a warning, but she wasn’t sure of the context. “I’m still stuck on the fact you’ve never been into alibrary.”
“I’ve seen loads of movies with library scenes. So many great librarian characters.Matilda. Ghostbusters. Aaand, you’re giving me the polite smile of someone who has no idea what I’m talking about but doesn’t want to say.”
“That transparent?”
“You are very transparent. But I like that about you.”
As she scrabbed over a bulge in the rock, she tried not to linger over that sentence.I like that about you. “I do knowMatilda, assuming you mean the Roald Dahl. But I’m hopeless with pop culture references and I get sick of saying, ‘Sorry, what are you talking about?’ It’s not like I’m stuck in the Gilded Age, or I’m a literary snob. I was obsessed with Harry Potter andThe Hunger GamesandTwilightgrowing up, like everyone else. Just the books, though.”
As Griffin helped her onto a ledge, she found herself nose to navel with his abs. He supported her elbow as she stood. “You shouldn’t feel the need to pretend you know what people are talking about. I freely admit I know nothing about libraries.”
“What about your school library?”
“I didn’t do school. I was tutored on set, wherever my parents were filming. And then I started to get roles when I was still a kid, so…”
“Lucky you.” Lana used to beg her parents to homeschool her. Even her mom thought that was taking the alternative lifestyle too far:You could use the practice at being around other people.
“You didn’t watch movies as a kid?” he said. “WALL-E?Up?”
She took a breath. The air smelled of rock, earth and his scent—something woody with a touch of citrus. She thought ofthe assistant handing him body spray. The Lana who’d intently watched that display would be dumbfounded at what current Lana was doing. “Maybe at school, for English?” How much did she want to share? “I had a sheltered upbringing.”
He crossed his arms, the biceps bulging in a way that contouring couldn’t take the credit for. “You’re doing that thing again.”
“What thing?”
“You might be lying by omission, but you’re still lying. You have a tell—several, actually.”
“What? What tell?”
“What are you hiding?”
“Nothing worth sharing. Griffin, I get that you’re worried I’m a stalker, and I don’t mean to sound defensive, but?—”
“You’re totally right.” He held up his palms. “It’s none of my business. It’s just, I guess… No, I’m not even sure why I’m asking. It’s just that you…” His face blanked. She could see the moment of retreat. How did he do that? How couldshelearn to do that? “Your honor, I retract the question. Of course you have a right to privacy. I of all people should respect that.”
Okay, now she felt bad. She looked along the gully. They were almost at the bridge, and the last of the sunlight was burning the top of the sandstone orange. “It’s not a big secret. It’s just that…”
“That?”
“People tend to judge.”
“Oh indeed, they do. Try me? If you want.”
Her tongue toyed with her teeth. All week she’d heard nothing about Griffin Hart except that he was an asshole. This guy seemed like his non-evil twin. “I grew up in an off-grid unplugged community. We didn’t have TV or internet. No electronic media at all. Didn’t go to movies.” He tipped his head, his mouth falling open. Always best to jump in during the moment of shock to ward off questions. “No, it wasn’t a cult. No,we weren’t conspiracy theorists or preppers or doomsdayers. No, we weren’t hippies—well, maybe a little, but not to extremes. Yes, I went to regular school, and yes, we shopped at the grocery store—for the things we didn’t grow ourselves. Yes, we read newspapers and magazines—but only the ‘serious’ ones.The Atlantic, The Economist. Yes, we had electricity and running water. Yes, I had a laptop. It just wasn’t connected to the internet, except at school. No, we didn’t have phones—landline or cell. Just a bunch of people who prefer to switch off the world, and think that children shouldn’t be plugged in all day.” His dropped jaw still hadn’t retracted, so she continued. “My parents are artists. They say being off-grid helps them live creatively. ‘Either you’re a creator in this life, or a consumer.’ That’s my mom.” Lana paused for a breath. “We should get to the top—the sun’s going down.”
He looked around as if surprised to find himself in a gully in the middle of nowhere with a librarian. “Sure. You wanna go first over this bit? I’ll boost you up.”
Boostingher involved his face getting awkwardly near her butt, but she managed to scramble up ten feet.
“Where was this utopia?” he said, following. “Is?”
“Neither utopia nor dystopia. North of Spokane in Washington state. And yes, it’s still there, as are my parents.”
“Why did you leave—and for L.A., which is like the opposite of an unplugged lifestyle?”
