They both received invitations to do panels and meet and greets at various conventions multiple times a year. Shane did them regularly—likely for the fat paycheck that came along with it—but Lilah had gone only once, during the first season, to the biggest one of all, held every spring in San Francisco. She’d found the whole thing so overwhelming that she’d drifted through the weekend in a Xanax haze, which she regretted after she’d been visibly zonked out of her mind in all the photos.
Shane snorted. “I don’t know if I’m ready to be put out to pasture like that just yet.”
“Well, I’m sureDancing with the Starswould be happy to have you.”
“If you want to see my moves, you could just say so.”
“I’ve already seen them.”
“Maybe I’ve learned some new ones.”
She glanced over and met his eyes, the two of them slipping into a slightly awkward silence.
“So, why’d you come alone tonight?” he asked, averting his gaze again.
“I’m not alone. I’m with Annie.”
At that moment, they passed by one of the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the back of the venue and were treated to a perfect view of Annie making out heavily in a corner with Kenny, the camera operator she’d been talking to when Lilah had gone outside.
“Not anymore,” Shane said.
“You know, good for her.” She glanced over at him. “Why’dyoucome alone?”
He shrugged. “Couldn’t find anyone who wanted to sit in the splash zone.”
“That was an accident,” Lilah protested, her face heating at the memory even as she laughed.
The first time she’d met Serena, at the season-two premiere party, Lilah had turned around too quickly and bumped into her, spilling her drink directly down the front of Serena’s dress. Lilah had been mortified, offering to pay Serena’s dry-cleaning bill—which of course was an empty gesture, since Serena was worth more than Lilah and Shane combined.
“Sure,” he said with a grin.
They passed one of the doors, and she expected him to break off from her and go back inside, but instead, they continued walking in silence, making their way to the other end of the patio. Even though it wasn’t cold, Lilah wrapped her arms around herself in a protective gesture. Her head felt pleasantlyfuzzy around the edges, the intrusive worries that were constantly running through it dulled to a low hum.
She followed Shane’s gaze through the window, where Margaux and Dean were absorbed in an animated conversation, Dean’s hand going to the small of Margaux’s back.
“I know she’s not really my daughter, but part of me wants to go over there and break that up for some reason.” There was a hint of conspiratorial humor to his voice, low and husky, that made her feel warm all over. She forced herself to focus on the part of it that irritated her.
“God. Are you going to be one of those dads who gets all weird and controlling about his daughters dating?”
“If they’re dating my brother, yeah.”
“Well, good thing she’s not really your daughter.”
They watched as Dean pulled Margaux closer, whispering something in her ear, and the two of them headed toward the exit.
“Man. Is it just me, or is everyone extra horny tonight?” She felt Shane’s eyes on her, felt her cheeks go pink. “I mean. It’s like none of them ever heard that you shouldn’t fuck your co-workers.”
“It’s the last season, I guess it’s now or never.” He looked at her for another beat, then looked away. “You want to catch up and tell her?”
“Nah. That’s a mistake she has to make on her own.”
A spark of tension crackled between them.
Shane pushed his jacket aside, resting a hand in his pocket. “Well. Now you two can compare notes.”
Lilah was so startled that she turned to face him fully. “What? You mean aboutDean? Nothing happened between me and Dean.” Aside from a few stilted minutes of making out that had gone nowhere, during which she’d felt nothing.
No, not nothing. Nothing would’ve been preferable to the ache she’d felt somewhere deep in her chest—the realization that, even though Dean looked uncannily like Shane, had a similar voice and smile and overall demeanor, he wasn’t Shane.
