“I would have thought that too. Not thatEstellebroke any confidences.”
“Must be impossible to have a relationship if you can’t open up.”
“That could be why I’ve never had one. Nothing serious.”
“You haven’t?”
“I know. I’m thirty-four and I’ve never been in love. I’m a freak, as previously established.”
“Neither have I,” Lana squeaked.
“Seriously?” He seemed genuinely shocked, which she couldn’t help but find flattering.
“I’ve dated. I’ve tried. I’ve had boyfriends. But no one whogetsme. If there’s someone out there for me, I haven’t found him yet.” She wasn’t prepared to disclose the deeper, messier reason—that whenever she started dating someone, she always came across all clingy and terrified of being dumped. She didn’t even know why—it was something Vivien had pointed out:You always say you don’t need people, but maybe it’s not that. Maybe you’re scared of needing people.But even when Lana could see the dark place she was heading to, in a relationship, she couldn’t stop herself from acting weird and insecure. So, it became a self-fulfilling prophecy, and any chance of a relationship withered under the awkwardness, bringing immense relief to both parties. Instead of sharing all that with Griffin, Lana took the simpler route out. “It’s not easy to meet people when you’re an alien hermit, let alone get to know them.”
“I thought that stuff would beeasierfor a normal person no one is interested in.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh man, that came out wrong. Sorry, my brain’s checked out. I mean, someone the media isn’t constantly reporting on, someone who’s not being watched. I might go on five dates in an entire year, but most of them end up in the tabloids, so of course I look like some heartless playboy. But I can say for certain that many,manyguys would be interested in you—if you got your nose out of your book and your butt out of your house. Online dating, speed dating, go to a bar. Whatever it is regular people do to get dates.”
“Never! Well, yeah, bars, occasionally, if someone invites me. And Vivi loves trying to set me up. But you—you could have almost any woman you wanted.”
“I suspect the number of women who would want to be with me for who I am, minus the fame and money and other bullshit, would be very small. Not to mention that I’m an asshole.”
“I would disagree on that point. But if you don’t let people in, how is any woman supposed to get to know the real you?”
“You see? I’m doomed. My agent does sometimes set me up.”
“With another famous person?”
“Never works out. Mostly, women are put off by how boring I am. It’s a numbers game, and I’m not getting the numbers, so…”
“A numbers game?”
“Sure. There would be tens of thousands of people out there we could be attracted to.” He dropped his gaze down her body and up again—a subconscious move rather than a deliberate one.
“You don’t believe in fate?” For instance, she added to herself, the wacky glitch in the programming of the universe that would strand a librarian with a movie star.
“It’s illogical that of the eight billion people on Earth, we would happen to meet ouronesoulmate in the tiny part of the world we circulate in.” He said “onesoulmate” with an emphasis she hated herself for noticing, while pinning her with his gaze. Was he even aware what he was doing—what he was doingto her? “I do believe there’s a tiny minority we are capable of truly connecting with, on both a physical level and a deeper one. But even so, your chances of finding one of those people among the masses who aren’t right for you are low. You see? Numbers game.”
“And if you don’t play the game…”
“Right? Maybe that minority is like one percent of the people we meet. With odds like that…”
“Why bother with the mess and heartache of trying?” she finished.
“Exactly. And now that we have love all figured out—or not—it’s time we went to bed.”
“Time we … what?”
He grinned. “I’ll be in my trailer.”
“You’re teasing me again! You’re awful! No wonder you have this terrible reputation.”
He narrowed his eyes, looking tired and human for a split second before the neutral expression set in. “Good night, Lana.”
As he left, Lana swore quietly. One of the most deliciously sexy moments of her life—which was pathetic considering he’d touched her with a single fingertip—and she’d ruined it. He’d been letting her in gradually for hours, and she’d defaulted to judging him by the public persona he clearly hated. What a dork.
