The Scene Stealer: A Hollywood Romance

Looking up at Devyn I wonder if I could let myself fall for him, if I could let myself be engulfed in his existence, in his warmth. His presence is so large and attention-seeking that I know I’d lose myself in its weight.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

On our walk back to the apartment building, I tell him how I’ve been studying to become a nurse and he seems surprised at my field of interest.

“Those nurses are the reason I’m here today. I want to be a savior for someone else. And with the community, the hospital in the neighboring town is looking for new recruits.”

“I could see you as a nurse. You seem like someone willing to stand up for someone else. You have a lot of courage.”

A laugh bubbles up at his assessment. “I am not courageous at all, believe me.” My eyes fix on the pavement beneath my feet. Each step I take seems to turn me in a new direction that I’m not familiar with, a new path I have never imagined. A path that leads me to Devyn.

“I beg to differ,” he whispers as he reaches for my hand. I can feel his eyes on me; the feeling of his touch isn’t unwelcome.

We make it up to the landing of my floor and he escorts me to my door.

“I

had fun,” I tell him, unable to look him in the eye. Instead, I tuck my hands into the pockets of my jeans and stare at his chest. I can make out the definition of his muscles beneath his shirt and that flickering I felt earlier returns.

“Me too. Hey, you know what I forgot?”

Curiosity getting the better of me, I pull my stare away from his center and look him in the eye. I lick my lips when my gaze lands on his intense stare trained on me. I’m fairly certain I hear a growl vibrate from him, but I’m not positive. The sound of my heartbeat is too loud, echoing in my ears, muffling the noise.

“What’s that?”

“I forgot to feed you.”

“Oh. That’s okay, we had nachos.”

“Maybe you could let me inside and I can scrounge something together?”

“Are you inviting yourself inside my apartment?” I jest as my body relaxes.

His shoulders move up and down in a shrug as a reply.

“Do you even know how to cook?” I ask, wishing I could take back the words once they leave my mouth. At first, I think he’s going to be angry, me bringing up his falling out with his parents, another story I read about in an online article, but he surprises me when he laughs instead.

“I would starve on the nights my cousin Tessa works late if I didn’t have some culinary skill.”

“So what is it that you can make?” I inquire as I turn and slip my key into the lock and gesture for him to come inside my sacred place. I rush over to the couch after closing the door and rustle around the blankets and pillows.

“Grilled cheese.”

With a pillow in my hand, I gaze at him over my shoulder. “What?”

“Yeah, I make a mean grilled cheese. That’s about it.”

I can’t help but laugh loudly, the feeling almost foreign, and I’m left catching my breath after the giggles eradicate themselves from my body.

“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. I swear it.”

“Sure, sure,” he admonishes as he moves over to my kitchen and opens the door to my pantry.

“No, really. I’m laughing because grilled cheese is my go-to meal too. It’s the easiest to make when it’s just you, you know?”

“Exactly.”

I watch him grab a loaf of bread, then I remember the loaf of thick sourdough that I have in the fridge. Leaving the pillows on the couch, I step up to him and grab the bagged bread from his hand and put it back in the pantry before opening the fridge door and grabbing the loaf of sourdough. “Here.”