His head snapped up.
I said it nicely, but I was irritated. “You think you don’t know yourself? Well, you sure as shit don’t know me, or anything about me, so if you could keep me out of your pity party I’d appreciate it.” I folded my arms over my chest, projecting a defiant and offended look I had perfected over the years.
How could this guy be so attractive and get on my last nerve at the same time? Wasn’t lust as blind as love? I guessed not.
Jack’s eyes narrowed a moment, then his shoulders sagged. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, right. Well, it’s late.” I shrugged like I was over the conversation. I felt bad in a way. I wanted him to be able to talk to me, but for some reason I always found myself wanting to shut it down and get him out of my space. It just felt too crowded all the time, like I couldn’t keep a sense of myself with him there.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he backtracked. “I didn’t mean anything by that. I’m not myself.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair again. “You’re right. I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. Everyone always thinks they do. But for some reason, I want to be able to talk to you. I want to know you. You seem ... grounded I guess. And you look at me like ...”
Great. I was normal and grounding. I truly would have preferred to be magnetic or enigmatic, but I wasn’t sure what either would accomplish for me. “Like?”
“Like you don’t see me as a famous person, but just as a person.”
Surprised, I said quietly, “You are just a person.”
I stared at him and his gaze snagged my own. He seemed to be looking right into me, like he was sifting over who I was inside. I was pinned for a moment, unable to drop my eyes from his, and after a few beats his gaze wandered over my face. The air seemed to swell up around me. I bit my lip, whether in nerves or a sharp reminder of reality, I couldn’t say.
The small movement hooked his gaze and his green eyes zeroed in on my mouth.
It was too much for me. I cleared my throat, breaking the spell I was under, and taking a sip of my drink, turned away.
What kind of game was Jack playing with me? Obviously, he knew the effect he had on girls. On me. If he thought coming here tonight would help fill some of that void he was feeling, I was going to have to be seriously careful. The plain truth was, part of me wanted to be that for Jack. There was no question of how he had gotten to where he had today. Yes, he was talented. I had seen his work. I knew the nuances and depth he brought into his roles. But I was also, now, a first hand witness to his gravitational pull. He was like a bright and beautiful rogue planet. He pulled the entire galaxy into a gravitational wobble until he got close enough to suck you in and tilt your axis head over heels.
“If you say you can talk to me, talk to me.” I congratulated myself on the right amount of polite interest and concern. The fact that I was keenly over-interested in everything to do with him, didn’t escape my attention. I truly wanted to know what this guy who had everything going for him was doing in my kitchen at ... I looked at the microwave clock ... midnight. “I mean, you keep saying you’re not yourself, so speak. I’m listening.”
T E N
Jack finally dropped his eyes away from me and drained the rest of his beer.
I watched his throat work down the last sip. “Sorry,” I said, suddenly wanting to take back my unburdening his soul challenge. It was way too intimate between us already. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just don’t get it. You’re right. I mean, I get what you’re feeling, I just ... surely you must have friends you can talk to, people who are in the same boat as you?”
He shrugged. “Well, perhaps if I had felt like anyone would understand, I wouldn’t have had to go to the other side of the country to figure my shit out. Look, forget about it.” He sighed and smiled. “So, what’s the latest news from Butler Cove?”
“Hmmm. Let me see.” I laughed, relieved, and ran through some of the conversations I’d overheard this evening at work. “An alligator got stuck in a storm drain, and Sheriff Graves and the fire chief had to work together to get him loose. It drew a big crowd, not because of the alligator, but because the sheriff hasn’t spoken to the chief in seven years since the chief had an affair with the sheriff’s wife. That makes for some interesting town council meetings when decisions have to be made, I can tell you.”
Jack laughed. “So are they still together? The sheriff and his wife?”
“Oh, yes!” I said in mock outrage, hand to my heart. “She still attends church with her head held high every Sunday and refuses to admit she did it. But you can’t get away with much in a town this size.”