“Until we met in the park,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper.
I kissed her then. Sprang it on her so thick it surprised me, her shock and awe delighting me.
The price was instant addiction.
Fuck, there I go again, thinking about kissing Lena’s soul out.
She’s too damn beautiful, splashed in gold sunset, a stark contrast from the first time I took her lips.
I hadn’t noticed so many details then. Sure, I thought she was pretty with her curves and classic beauty, set in a face that doesn’t smile enough.
But back there, in the park, with her chin lifted and her eyes glowing, I think I already knew how royally screwed I was.
I never could resist a challenge, and she’s handing them out like fucking candy.
For a moment, we’re silent, lost between words.
She curls her legs up under her as she finally relaxes. “I do have a question ...”
“Shoot.”
“Why me?”
I frown, taking another pull off my beer.
“I mean, why me, specifically? Couldn’t you find someone way better? Like an out-of-work actress?”
Good question.The beer bottle almost cracks under my fingers as I grip the glass, thinking what to tell her.
What the hell. We’re friends, right?
“If you googled me, you must’ve counted how many times I’ve fucked up,” I say carefully. “Needless to say, my past hurt my image and limits my options. Bringing in anyone too desperate—especially from Hollywood—it just didn’t seem wise.”
“Your dating history, you mean?”
“Yeah. Once you’re stuck with the playboy image, it’s impossible to shake. My antics as a kid and a few times after I came home from the army stalled my career. It’s not just the family name that gets me a business meeting. For too many people, it’s the only reason.” I suck down the rest of my beer. “If I could give up my money and comfort to take it all back, to start over, I’d push the button. No hesitation.”
“Is that what you’re hoping with this? Besides buying time with your parents, I mean. To have this sham make the old Brady disappear ...” Her mouth purses and tilts to one side as she looks at me, her brown eyes softer than ever.
“I want it to bury him alive.” My voice is thunder, low and intense.
“Wow, you’re serious. The prince wishing he could just be a peasant—that’s classic myth stuff. Was everything about your old life sobad? Most guys would kill for your edge with women. If you didn’t have the media blowback, I mean.”
I pause.
“What life? What edge? The one where I’ve screwed myself out of having a chance with any decent girl? Where I’m stuck dating women from rich, insular families so close they feel like cousins?” I shake my head. “No, fuck that entirely. Any woman I’m going to be with has to be authentic going forward. I need chemistry beyond the looks and a love for world travel.”
“Apart from me, you mean.”
“Apart from you,” I echo, though how inauthentic is it, really? The engagement, definitely. But the chemistry?
It’s burning the air like a flame to paper as we speak.
“What about you?” I ask. “Since we’re trading regrets, it’s your turn. Don’t tell me you’re still single thanks to one bad prick?”
She hesitates, taking a long drink from her beer before setting it down. “I haven’t dated for a while, really. Not seriously. Too busy with work, and I like it that way. It’s just easier.”
I wait, letting my silence press her for more.
