Wilson had been over a couple of times with his list of Hollywood celebrities to invite. Since our lunch at the Rio, he’d helped me quite a bit.
I glanced up when Sebastian walked up to the patio from his property, holding a brown wicker basket with a closed lid. Strange sounds came from it.
“Hey you,” he said, and leaned in to give me a quick peck on my cheek. Nothing serious, and he didn’t linger.
I cocked my head. “Your basket is freaking me out.”
He chuckled. “I don’t buy presents for girls much, so I hope I wasn’t too far off the mark with this, but I’d like you to meet fur ball—which isn’t really her name. You can call her whatever you want,” he said as he pulled out a fluffy, slobbering little puppy.
I blinked at it. I could barely take care of myself. “A puppy?”
He plopped her in my arms. “Duh. She’s for you, goof.”
She whimpered and licked my hand. “But why? What do I do with it? Where does it sleep? Does it eat cheese puffs? Oh God. I’d suck at being a parent.”
He lifted his soft blue eyes to mine. “It’s a stupid gift, isn’t it?”
I shook my head. She was terribly cute with her big brown eyes and long hair. “No, no, no. Why do you say that? Wait, is this some kind of break-up-dog? Because you feel guilty about what happened?”
His jaw tightened. “Stop putting words in my mouth. This is because when I saw this dog, I knew she had to be yours. She’s sweet … like you. She’s musical … I heard her howl at the pet store. She’s got the softest fur … just like you.” He chuckled at my expression.
“Okay, not even touching the fur comment, but why were you even thinking of me?” I pressed.
He looked deflated. Shit, I was ruining this. “Why what?” he said. “Can’t I just do something spontaneous? Why do you have to put a label on it?”
I sighed. “So you think about me? A lot. Like when you just randomly walk in a pet store? And not just when you go to bed and have sex dreams about me?”
“Yeah. I also think about food a lot, too.”
Ha. Fine. I gazed back down at the gorgeous dog that seemed to be some kind of Yorkie.
I rubbed her head and she licked me. “Well, thank you. I’m in love with her already. I’m going to call her Tater.” She yipped delicately. “She likes it.”
His lips quirked. “Tater? After me?”
“No, because I like French Fries,” I chuckled. “I hope she doesn’t like to jump in the pool like Monster did.”
“That was a wonderful night,” he said with a wistful expression. “You and me talking until dawn. Until I left, of course.”
I covered my face. “I can’t believe I ran down here and just—kissed you.”
He chuckled. “It was the Romeo quote that did it, wasn’t it? Works every time.”
I punched his arm. “I thought I was the only one you’d quoted that to.”
He got a serious look on his face. “Only you, V, only you.”
He sat down next to me in a lounge chair, and I looked at him harder, noticing the disheveled hair and the dark circles.
“Are you okay? You seem tired.”
He didn’t meet my eyes. “I’m cool. Besides the studio, Spider and I got signed for another commercial.”
There was more, though. Something was on his mind.
I winced. “Any news on the Hing movie?”
He shook his head, his eyebrows gathering in. “Nah, I didn’t get it. It’s official. Whatever, I was a long shot with him—everyone knows that—obviously.” He rose. “I’ll talk you tomorrow at the studio. Take care of Tater for me.”
Oh.
My heart hurt at the disappointment on his face. “I’m so sorry. They’ll be other movies, other directors. Right?”
“Yeah.” And then he walked away from me, and I wanted to call him back.
But we were different now. Uneasy and afraid to be alone together for too long.
It sucked.
MILA HAD MADE good on her night out with Baxter. She rented us a Mercedes limo that Saturday night and made us reservations at a new club called Krush. We picked up Baxter, who was sexy gorgeous with his linebacker body and big dimples—until you noticed he only had eyes for the dudes. We didn’t care. He was fun, picked up on our vibe to dance, and kept the creeps away.
We’d just finished dancing and I’d headed to the bar to get us another round when I felt a