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I edged along the sofa toward him, wanting to smooth away the look of worry from the other man’s face. “Sorry. I guess I’m just really bad company tonight. If you want to go, I’ll understand.”

The frown grew even more pronounced. “I don’t. And you’re not bad company. Just a little distracted. I thought it was my bad choice of film. But, if it’s not, if it’s something else, is it Georgia?”

I shook my head. “No. She’s fine. Well, not fine, obviously. She’s still heartbroken. She thought Benedict was ‘the one’ but she’s doing okay, considering. At least now, she’s more angry than upset. And he’s stopped trying to call her, so that helps.”

“How’s the acting going?”

I shrugged. “Same old, same old. Lots of auditions. Not many jobs. I’m used to it.”

“Work?”

“Work’s okay.” I made a deliberate effort to lighten the mood, at the same time as stopping the line of questioning. “Hey, guess what. I even had a really sexy guy come in the other night. He kept talking to me all night. He kept watching me as well. He seemed more interested in what I was doing than talking to his poor dinner companion.”

Justin smirked. “Really! Sounds like I should be jealous. Tell me more about this guy. So I know what competition I’m up against.”

I inched closer, placing my hand on his thigh. The muscles underneath my fingers tensed, but he made no move to remove it. “Well, he’s really good-looking. And funny. Although, some of his jokes are pretty lame. He’s caring, as well.” I carefully slid my hand higher, noting his sharp intake of breath with satisfaction. He definitely wanted me. You didn’t react like that to a simple touch if you weren’t interested. I wondered what he’d do if I undid his zipper. My mouth watered at the thought of finding out what his cock looked like, maybe even what it tasted like. Perhaps, I’d been going about this the wrong way. He obviously wasn’t comfortable with hands under clothes, but maybe a fully clothed blow job would be the way to go. At least, it would be a step in the right direction. “And he’s very supportive. He keeps telling me I’m a great actor. Even though all the evidence says otherwise.”

“He’s obviously very wise.”

I nodded, inching my hand further, my fingers curling around his inner thigh, while my knuckle grazed his crotch. Gazes locked on each other, I watched as his pupils dilated. Taking that as encouragement, I went for it, reaching for his zipper and already envisioning the feel of his cock in my hand. I imagined the way it would slowly get harder as I stroked him in my fist. Then, when he was fully hard I’d get down on the floor between his knees, close my lips over it, and blow his mind. He’d give in to it, wonder why we’d left it so long. If I was lucky, he’d return the favor. My fantasy came to a crushing end, as my wrist was grabbed and unceremoniously yanked away.

I sat back, hurt written all over my face. “Why don’t you want me?”

Justin’s look of guilt was immediate. He raised a hand to my face, letting it drop before it made contact. “I do want you. It’s…complicated, Dean. There’s no rush, is there?”

“No rush!” My words sounded bitter. “We’ve been seeing each other for weeks now. And every time…I try to get…close to you, you push me away. You’re starting to make me feel like a sex-obsessed pervert.”

“Shit!” Justin grabbed my hand, holding on tight, his thumb stroking the palm. I had half a mind to yank it away. See how he liked being on the receiving end. I didn’t. I let it rest there, waiting for the explanation I hoped was forthcoming. “I don’t want you to feel like that.”

“Then…what is the problem? I’ve already told you I don’t give a crap about your scars.”

“It’s not that. I trust you.” He shot an imploring look my way. “I can’t explain. Like I said…it’s complicated.”

I did yank my hand away then. “Can’t…or won’t?”

He sighed and rubbed a hand wearily over his forehead. “You’re right. I can explain. But…not tonight.”

“When then?”

Justin let his head sink back against the back of the sofa. “I don’t know. It’s…” He stood suddenly, already looking around for his jacket. “I should go. I don’t want this to turn into an argument.”

I was suddenly scared I’d pushed him too far. That he’d walk away and that would be the last I’d see of him. “When will I see you again?”

Jacket now located, he paused in the middle of putting it on. “When are you free?”

“Whenever. You know my work schedule. It hasn’t changed.”

“How about Tuesday evening?”

I went still. How was I supposed to answer that one? “Tuesday’s absolutely fine.”

“Is it?” He leveled a searching look my way. I all but wilted under it. “You’re not doing anything important? Because, if so, we can make it Wednesday instead.”

His face held a strange, watchful expression while he waited for my answer. My heart sped up, a cold chill working its way down my spine. Did he know? No, there was no possible way he could. If Georgia had said anything, she would have confessed straight away. The only other person who knew anything, was my brother, and he’d never even met Justin. I was letting my paranoia take over. I should say yes to Tuesday. This was my boyfriend. My boyfriend who seemed to have absolutely no interest in sleeping with me, but my boyfriend nonetheless. Was I really going to turn him down to visit a faceless man in the dark who wanted to sleep with me so much, he paid for the pleasure, week after week? Whose hands worshipped my body and made me feel incredibly attractive rather than pushing me away every time I got close. If I did, what kind of man did that make me? Probably, one who didn’t deserve to have a boyfriend. “Wednesday…”

Justin cocked his head to one side, still waiting.

“Wednesday…would be better.”