“Alright, you got me,” I admitted. “I guess I do have a bit of a… script.”
“Did I ruin it with all the questions?”
I shook my head, leaning forward slightly.
“Nah, don’t worry. I’m pretty good at improv.”
Jules laughed, and the sound loosened the last of my nerves.
“Good,” she said, still chuckling, and I found myself looking at her a little too long, studying how her eyes shifted in color under the soft restaurant lights. Earlier, they’d been light and warm, almost like honey. Now, under the glow of the chandeliers, they were deeper, like melted chocolate. I must’ve been looking for too long because she flushed, her cheeks pinking.
I cleared my throat, snapping myself out of it.
“What wasyourscript like? How do you win the guy over, Jules?”
She was looking at me, her cheeks still faintly red. Maybe I hadn’t quite managed to dial back the stare like I thought I had. Or maybe I’d made her nervous with the question.Touché. Her smile softened as she looked at the view, debating whether to answer. Then she turned back, locking eyes with me.
“I usually go straight for the personal questions,” she said with a grin. “Get the guy talking about his childhood traumas and leave him so stunned he can’t shake me off his mind for weeks.”
“Only weeks?” I teased.
“That’s all I need for my adorable personality to make them fall in love.” She shot back, laughing.
“Well,” I said, leaning forward a little, “I’ve never fallen for anyone in a few weeks. My childhood traumas have only ever been discussed with certified psychologists, and, as you’ve noticed, I don’t get easily shaken by personal questions. Hollywood, remember? I eat that stuff for lunch.”
She looked at me and her lips parted as if she were about to say something, but she wasn’t sure if she should.
Come on, Jules. Say it.
“But then again,” she finally did, her eyes flicking across the room to where Jess was posing for a fan by the elevator, “you don’t usually date women like me, do you?”
She was 100% right. No, I hadn’t dated anyone like her. Not in a long time, maybeever. And if she only knew the whole story…
“You’re good,” I muttered.
She picked up the menu, still wearing that damn smirk. Maybe I should’ve gone with the private closed dining area instead of the one with the view. At least then, I could’ve gotten up and kissed that smirk off her lips. The thought alone was enough to make me adjust in my seat.
“You said you have two brothers?” She asked while flipping through the menu.
“Yeah,” I answered, watching her more than my menu.
“Are they movie stars too?”
“God, no. That’d make my…” I stopped before I said too much. Damn, shewasgood. Ten minutes in, and I was already on the verge of spilling details about my family, which I never did. Ever. I’d spend years cultivating the kind of privacy that made my Wikipedia page a total snooze.
She gave me a look, as if she knew she was onto something.
“Pop stars?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Nope,” I said, leaning back like I wasn’t bothered by the subject. “Oldest brother’s a gastroenterologist. The youngest one owns a chain of restaurants back in Boston.” I held her gaze, daring her to continue, and her grin only widened.
“So, no shared passion for the performing arts?” She teased, tilting her head like she was getting warmed up.
“Not even close,” I laughed, and the way I did gave too much away.
“Were you the drama club kid in school? Or did the acting thing come later?”
“Oh, I was 100% that kid,” I admitted. “Drama club, tap dancing, the whole thing.” I didn’t mind sharingthatpart. The internet had already gotten a hold of every yearbook photo and every local newspaper review from back then. At this point, it was old news.
