Unexpected Chances - Page 8

He couldn’t wait to explore more.

THREE

Holly knew she’d either lost her mind or she was experiencing an early midlife crisis. There was no other explanation for kissing Dylan and then agreeing to spend more time with him. Then again, what choice did she have? The clean break they’d taken—make that the clean break he’d forced on her—hadn’t accomplished anything. Their chemistry and connection was still as strong as ever. She had no choice but to play this through to whatever conclusion awaited her, or she couldn’t move on with her life. She’d be in the same limbo hell she’d been in for the last ten years.

So by the time he rang her doorbell the following morning, she was dressed in her favorite jeans and baseball cap and she was ready to shop in Boston with Dylan by her side.

She opened the door, and he greeted her with a cup of Starbucks in each hand. “You come bearing gifts?” she asked, laughing.

“Straight up for me and a froufrou drink for you. I can’t think of a better way to take the T to Copley,” he said, speaking of Boston’s version of public transportation.

“I must’ve heard you wrong. America’s heartthrob is going to take the train? Do you want to get mobbed?” She shook her head, realizing she really hadn’t thought about his ego or what his lifestyle must be like now. “Never mind. To be so successful, you must like the spotlight.”

He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Like isn’t the right word. It comes with the territory of being successful. You get used to it, but you don’t ever enjoy not having a personal life or having to work for a solitary moment.”

She studied his serious face. “You don’t enjoy the fame?” she asked, surprised.

“I did in the beginning. But it got old fast, and I realized that no matter how many people surrounded me, I was always alone. And lonely.”

The wistful sound in his voice caught her off guard and she narrowed her gaze. “Should I pull out the violin?”

He laughed at that. “I’m not looking for your pity. I’m just answering your question and telling it like it is. I want you to know me. Who I was and who I’ve become. Yes, I love my career, but I’ve given up a lot for it.” Again, he sobered as he spoke.

She met his serious stare and suddenly wondered if his return could have more to do with his emotional state than a brief visit to see his mother. He seemed so reflective. But she couldn’t imagine that Dylan had suddenly decided that he missed home and Holly. Not after a silent ten years. Which brought up the question, just where did she fit into the equation of his life?

“We all make choices,” she said of his decision to pursue a Hollywood career.

“And sometimes we live to regret them.” He squeezed her hand, and she felt as if her heart were being clenched tight as well.

“Are you saying you’re sorry you went to L.A.?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry for how I went about it.”

She swallowed hard and nodded, not certain she was ready for any further discussion on their past, yet she wasn’t ready to end the talk just yet. “And now?”

He grinned. “Now we go about taking things one step at a time. We’re going shopping, and we’re going to take the train like regular people. Nobody’s going to expect to see me on the T, so they’ll think maybe I share a resemblance with the famous Dylan North, but they’ll be so sure they’re wrong they’ll leave us alone.” He wagged his eyebrows like a kid. “That’s what I want. How about you?”

“That’s what I want, too.” That’s what scared her so much, she thought as she picked up her ski jacket and her bag. “So who are you shopping for today?”

“I’m a big brother,” he explained. And during their trip to the city, he told her about Darrell, the kid he mentored, and the program he’d been funding with a percentage of his earnings for the last two years.

In Sports Authority, he purchased a pair of Reebok basketball sneakers, a Spalding official NBA basketball, and some gym clothes for Darrell. Then he ordered basketballs in bulk for a youth program and arranged to have everything shipped to a com

munity center in South Central L.A. Watching the care he took in choosing the gifts, Holly learned that the man wasn’t just rich and famous, but he gave back to the community in which he lived, and it became even harder to rein in her heart.

Over lunch, he changed the subject. He wanted to hear about her years in college and medical school, which she managed to condense into a short story since she wanted to hear more about him.

He told her about his trip and all his firsts in L.A. She learned about his initial glimpse of the Hollywood sign, his search for an agent and his first job waiting tables, a job from which he was fired for spilling iced tea down Dolly Parton’s dress. Laughing, he insisted on paying the check.

While she shopped for family and friends, he revisited his excitement over his first acting job, when he learned which actors would take him under their wing and which were too afraid of losing their own success to help someone else. For the first time she was able to put her hurt aside and see what he’d been searching for as an actor.

She understood they still needed to talk about how he’d handled his decision to leave her, but, for now, she was content to enjoy his company in an adult way they’d never experienced before. They parted for half an hour, during which she bought his gift. By the time they’d gotten back home, he’d managed to avoid crowds and had signed only two autographs the entire day. Each time someone recognized him, they made a quick escape and found an entirely new place to shop. He was as adept at acting pleased to meet his fans as he was at ducking them at first opportunity.

Holly couldn’t remember a more fun or sexually charged day. His cologne turned her on and kept her aroused with each breath she took, and he never stopped touching her. Either he held her hand as they walked, his palm tucked against hers, or he cupped the small of her back, steering her this way and that. Whatever they did, he made certain they were connected the entire afternoon, and, as a result, her body tingled with awareness.

At the train station in Acton, they slid into the car and Dylan turned towards her, one hand over her headrest. “So what next?”

Holly’s heart pounded hard in her chest. She’d wrestled with this all afternoon, wondering if she could really have Dylan in her apartment and still be the same when he returned to L.A. Probably not, but it didn’t matter. Given the chance to be with him, how could she turn him away?

Tags: Carly Phillips Romance
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