someone to simply listen without making a big deal out of who she was.
She started to see him as more than just a friend, but he’d never given any indication he saw her in any kind of romantic way. Knowing her luck, he saw her as a little sister; someone to be taken care of—not someone to sweep off her feet with a soul-wrenchingly hot kiss that would melt them both to the core like she sometimes imagined.
Not where your imagination should be headed, PJ.
“Hmm. You go from egg white and veggie omelets to heavy, rich comfort foods. What’s up with that?” She scrunched her nose at him and he laughed.
“I try to eat pretty healthy most of the time, but who doesn’t need some good comfort food once in a while? Most of the time I make stir fries or baked chicken and vegetables, but some days are mac and cheese days, right?”
PJ nodded, not able to lose the smile on her face. She really did know all about those mac and cheese days.
This felt good, just hanging out with someone who seemed to have no expectations. No agenda.
He was certainly used to being around people like her in his line of work. And, he had no reason to want something from her. He had his own money, his own fame—and he already knew she loved his hotels.
There wasn’t anything she could give him besides what he seemed to be asking for: her friendship. Even though, at times, she wanted more from him than that, there was something liberating about knowing he wasn’t trying to get something more or to use her for his own gain. She could be herself with him in a way she couldn’t with anyone else.
“Ice cream’s my weakness,” she said. “My team keeps the freezer stocked with these salted-caramel ice cream bars. They’re covered in chocolate with chunks of pretzels in them. They’re amazing.” PJ was a little mortified to realize she moaned again while talking about her ice cream bars.
She let her eyes glance up to Gabe’s and caught the heated intensity of his look.
Then, with the blink of an eye it was washed away.
What was that about?
“Tell me,” he said as he picked up his now-empty plate and grabbed hers before heading to the sink. “Do you think it was Kurt who stole your journal and leaked it to the press? More publicity for him? When did you have it last?”
PJ’s stomach dropped. She’d forgotten about her journal for one blissful minute.
“No. Well, maybe. I don’t really know.” She felt even more stupid, not knowing how someone got her journal or who might have it.
Would she put it past Kurt to do something like that? No, not at all. Erika was no fan of PJ’s either. Despite the fact Kurt had dumped PJ for her, Erika had harassed PJ for weeks afterward, texting that PJ better stay away from her man and all that.
PJ didn’t need that kind of drama in her world. Lord knew her life on the road gave her enough drama as it was. She’d changed her number and tried to forget about Kurt and Erika.
“Where did you keep it?” Gabe asked the question gently, as though he wanted to be sure she knew he was only asking the question to be supportive.
PJ shook her head and felt the telltale prick of tears behind her eyes. “That’s the thing. Nobody knew I kept a journal. And, I mean nobody. I never wrote in it in front of other people. Only when I was by myself at night. I kept it on a USB drive that I hid in a tear in the lining of my purse. The drive even looked like an old lipstick so anyone who found it would think it was makeup.”
“It’s not on a cloud or backed up on your computer or anything?” he asked.
“No. I should have just deleted it after each entry, you know? I mean really, what’s the point of saving all that?” She shrugged. “I just got in the habit of it in rehab and never stopped.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s a lot of years. You were what, sixteen when you went to rehab?”
“Fifteen. I wanted to get that whole addiction thing out of the way early in life. Call me an overachiever.” The comment got the laugh she was looking for.
Gabe grabbed two bottles of water and tugged her toward the couch, settling down on one end while she