‘So now we’ve both kissed each other,’ he said, ‘both pushed each other away and both told the sob stories about our mothers. What next?’
‘We could paint each other’s toenails.’
He nearly laughed, enjoying her spunky comebacks. ‘Tempting, but I don’t have any nail varnish on me.’
‘I’ve got some pink sparkly stuff in the other room.’
‘I think I’ll pass.’
‘Probably a wise move.’ She smiled as she eased herself off the stool, and Ben braced himself because he knew that look. It was the thanks for everything dismissal. He’d given it himself quite a few times over the years, but he found it hurt now coming from Olivia.
Which was stupid as well as pathetic. Yet he’d enjoyed his time with her, far more than he’d ever expected to. The conversation as well as the kissing. The honesty that hurt and felt good at the same time.
‘It’s really late, and I have a packed schedule tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I should get some sleep.’
He nodded and pushed off from the counter. ‘Right. Me too.’
‘Thanks for the omelette. It was the best one I’ve ever tasted.’
He shrugged her praise aside, suddenly desperate to leave—and all because he really wanted to stay so damn much. ‘No problem. I’ll see you...around.’ He started for the door, turning around to give her one last careless wave.
‘Yeah,’ she said softly, and for a second she looked both sad and lost. As sad and lost as she must have been when she was twelve. Ben almost started forward—but to do what? ‘Around,’ she repeated, and then he went.
CHAPTER SIX
OLIVIA HAD NO time to think of Ben the next day as she raced from interview to premiere to party, and yet somehow he managed to occupy all her thoughts. The feel of his lips. The surprising sweetness of his smile. Their incredibly candid conversation, because she didn’t think either of them had meant to admit so much. She’d talked about her mom dying, which, as Ben had rightly guessed, she never talked about to anyone. She had a feeling he was the same about his own mother’s infidelity.
So why had they confided in each other? Had it just been a late-night type of thing, an awkward confessional over eggs? Or did they—could they—feel something more for each other? Something that was actually real?
Did she even want that? She’d kept herself from real or intimate relationships for a long time, and there was a reason for that. She didn’t trust herself. But Olivia had to acknowledge that what she’d already experienced with Ben was weakening her resolve to stay safe and alone. She liked talking to someone. Laughing with someone. Kissing someone...
But it would be really pathetic, she told herself, to develop some kind of schoolgirl crush on her pretend boyfriend. Really stupid, because Ben wasn’t giving off relationship vibes, and anyway, she had a life and a plan and Ben Chatsfield did not figure into it.
But he could...if you fell for him. If he fell for you.
If she was willing to risk her heart and try for something she’d never expected to have or even want. A terrifying prospect, but one she still found herself thinking about.
By the time she got back from the cocktail party she’d been invited to, she was utterly exhausted. She’d only had a couple of hours of sleep, and twelve hours of being on all the time had taken its toll.
She decided to take a late-night swim to clear her head and, a little voice whispered slyly, because there was an off chance she might see Ben again at the pool. Only this time she wouldn’t jump on him.
Except maybe she would.
Shaking her head at her own circling thoughts, Olivia headed up to the rooftop pool, which was blissfully and just a little bit disappointingly empty at ten o’clock at night.
She swam a couple of lengths, but her heart wasn’t in it and she was too tired anyway. After about twenty minutes she hauled herself up onto the side of the pool, dripping and shivering a little despite the humid, heated air. Everything was quiet save for the lap of the water against the edges of the pool, little waves she’d stirred up from her swimming. On all four sides she could see the city, endlessly dark save for the twinkling of a few lights. Suddenly Olivia felt very alone—and lonely.
It was strange to feel lonely, not to mention stupid, because she’d been alone for most of her life. Her mother’s death had distanced her from her father and her siblings from one another. Everyone had orbited in their own private universe of grief. She’d been a loner in high school, only coming alive on the stage, and college had been the same. Hollywood was too cut-throat for real friends, and she’d kept herself away from the parties and gossip and affairs. Anyway, by the time she’d landed in California she’d made peace with her isolation. Besides, she had no time to feel lonely; she was too busy trying to establish and prove herself.