He is studying my face, his expression inquisitive. “How many of them meant something to you? These men you fucked?”
“Three,” I say easily. “The first because he was a genuine friend, and we never should have been so stupid. The second I thought was real, but I was mistaken. I thought he broke my heart, but all he really did was wound my pride.”
“Your friend Ollie,” he says. “And the second is the asshole movie star?”
“Yup. Bryan Raine. Creep extraordinaire.”
“And the third?”
I look at him, but I don’t answer. Instead I just smile and sip my wine.
I think he understands, but his expression is almost sad when he says, “You burn through men like you’re on a quest, kitten. What is it you expect to find?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know,” I say. What I want to say is you.
A waitress arrives with a bottle of wine, and after Ryan samples it, she pours us each a glass. I desperately want a sip, but before I can take one, Ryan twines his fingers with mine. “Maybe you don’t need Texas or your plan. Maybe you just need to find a man who grounds you.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “I don’t know. I make bad choices.”
“In the past, yes,” he says. “But how long are you going to keep using that excuse as a Band-Aid on your fear?”
My head snaps up. “I’m not afraid.”
“The hell you’re not. You’re afraid of me. You’re afraid of staying.”
I look away because he is right. “That’s different.”
He doesn’t answer, probably because he knows that he’s right, and my excuse is just bullshit.
I tug my hand free and then sip my wine.
“My looks are the thing that scare me the most,” I say. It’s not the kind of thing I usually share, but I want so much to be close to this man. Foolish, since I’m about to leave him, but I can’t argue with what I want.
His smile is sweet and genuine. “There’s nothing scary about your looks, kitten.”
I return the smile because I know he’s just putting me at ease. “I know you think I’m pretty,” I say.
“Beautiful,” he corrects.
“All right. I don’t mind that either because I really do believe you see me. But most people...” I trail off with a shrug. “I used to be afraid that no one saw me at all. They just saw the trappings.” I take another sip of wine. “I got hurt by a lot of guys once I realized they didn’t give a crap about what was in my head. They only wanted my face and my tits and my body on their arm.”
He reaches for my hand, then squeezes.
I shrug. “It’s okay. I figured it out fast enough. And then I turned it around. Turned it into a tool. They never saw the real me anyway, so I finally decided that if I had it, I might as well use it.” My smile is thin. “I believe in being pragmatic.”
“Maybe so, but there is no escaping reality. And the reality is that you are beautiful. It’s not a curse. It’s not a tool. I’ve seen some of the pictures Nikki has taken of you. And captured on camera, you are truly exceptional. But it’s not because you have those incredible cheekbones or the kind of mouth a guy wants to see wrapped around his cock,” Ryan says, making me smirk. “You have a light, Jamie. You shine. You walk into a room and—”
“How do you do that?” I ask.
“What?”
“Make me feel special.”
His smile is so gentle it makes my heart swell. “Maybe you are special.”
He lifts his hand, and Stephen comes over, this time carrying a flat, square box wrapped in silver paper. “I bought you something,” Ryan says to me. He takes the box from Stephen and sets it in front of me. “Open it.”