and I hate flying alone. It’s depressing.”
“Glad I could hang out, then,” I said, looking away again, despite the sincerity I could hear in his voice.
“Don’t be like that. There’s no one else I wanted to be with tonight than you,” he said. “And I want to see you again. I want to see more of you.”
My eyes turned back to him. He definitely seemed sincere, but I knew that this was simply a ploy—this kind of pacifying speech was his stock-in-trade. Leo was damn good at making me feel wanted, but I had to remember that he’d also been just as good at it with dozens and dozens of women previously.
Do not ever forget who and what he is, I told myself.
Before he stepped off the plane he took me in his arms, pressed me tight to him, and kissed me deeply and with such tenderness. I sank against him, wishing that kiss would never end. But it did. Soon I was watching from the window as he slipped into an awaiting black town car on the tarmac, and Helen had lowered that bench into a bed for me, complete with pillows and blanket.
“Can I get you anything before takeoff?” she asked.
I watched out the small window as the car drove away, taking Leo with it. I realized he hadn’t said how long he’d be gone.
“No, thank you,” I said. I felt strangely sad and forlorn, and I hated knowing that my body and emotions were steadily betraying my rational brain.
As we hit cruising altitude and I had snuggled down into the cozy little bed, I fell asleep quickly, wondering how soon I could see him again.
Chapter 9
When I walked back into my apartment at three o’clock that morning, I heard Ava Marie moaning and her bed bucking behind her slightly ajar bedroom door. Great, I thought. Just what I need to hear after rocking off Leo but not fully finishing myself.
Did oral count as being part of the mile-high club? I wondered stupidly.
Had I been used? The first night at his apartment had, frankly, been all about me. If that’s how Leo Armstrong used women, then I say let him. But tonight I’d returned the favor, so to speak. And even though I’d enjoyed every delicious second of it, was he laughing at me right now, telling the guys how some dumb girl gave him a blow job on the company jet? “Again, Armstrong?” they’d probably tease, and he’d laugh self-deprecatingly, all the while knowing his legend was increasing by the second.
But then again—I couldn’t help thinking about the amazing talk we’d had. It was fascinating hearing about scripts and characters from his perspective, to learn what he wanted from them. That maybe there was more to his movies than just guns and explosions.
Then I recalled how seriously he’d taken my opinions—more seriously even than Kait and the women at Crush.
I got a glass of water from the kitchen, waiting for Ava Marie to finish…whoever she was doing.
The door to Ava Marie’s bedroom opened and a man in boxers walked into the dark hallway, toward the kitchen.
“Hello?” I said to let him know someone else was there.
“Holy shit,” he said, stepping back.
“What is it?” Ava Marie called from her bedroom.
“It’s Sophie,” I called. “I’m home.”
Ava Marie came out with a short robe loosely tied around her slim waist. “Oh, hey. I thought you were out.”
“Just got home,” I said, holding up my water glass.
“This is Christian,” she said, motioning to the perfectly proportioned creature now searching for a water glass. “Christian, that’s my roommate Sophie.”
“I guess if you’re just now getting home that means you had a good night,” Christian said, without an ounce of self-consciousness at walking around in our kitchen half naked.
“That’s true,” Ava Marie said, a smile playing on her lips. “Did the new girl in town find herself a native?”
I didn’t feel like talking about it. The night—the flight—had been incredible but also confusing to put in mildly, and I had some mental sorting to do. “I had a work thing,” I said, not a total lie.
“Listen, I feel kind of bad about the other day, when I told you to like, get over your audition rejection. I shouldn't have been so harsh.”
“No, it’s fine,” I said. “You were right.”
“You a dancer, too?” Christian asked.
I wanted to know what planet he thought a woman with my curves would be a professional dancer. That’s when I realized—he was a dancer, too. I could see it