Chapter 12
Victoria looked at the man sitting across from her at her kitchen table. While she’d enjoyed Javiar’s company the first time
he’d stopped by, she’d decided that she wasn’t going to see him again. She wasn’t interested in being friends with him, and
if he wouldn’t sleep with her, then what was the point? Yet somehow when he’d texted and suggested he bring by takeout, she’d
found herself agreeing.
She told herself it was just because she wasn’t able to get out much—except for her critique group and seeing her dad every
week or so for lunch, she was pretty much alone. She’d been indulging in her love of movies, but even she was getting tired
of watching two a day. So it wasn’t so much she wanted to see him as she would have agreed to have anyone over. Desperate times and all that.
“You look like you’re feeling better,” he said, passing over the tray of enchiladas. He’d also brought street tacos, guacamole
and chips. She’d already had limes so had quickly made them margaritas.
“You’re moving around more easily,” he added. “Not like last time.”
“How was I different last time?” she asked, surprised by how much he’d paid attention.
“You were careful when you walked with the crutches. Like every step hurt. Now you’re just dealing with the inconvenience. When do you get your walking cast?”
“In a few weeks.” She slid an enchilada onto her plate. “And based on how you’re feeding me, I’m going to have to start doing
laps the very first day. I’ve already put on three pounds since the accident.”
“You look great.”
She rolled her eyes. “So says the guy who’s six feet tall and works out. You don’t ever worry about gaining weight.” She scooped
up some guacamole. “In fact, you have the opposite problem. If you don’t eat enough, you shed muscle. If you get the flu,
you instantly drop ten pounds.”
“How do you know that?”
“I train with guys. They’re usually trying to bulk up. Putting on muscle past what’s natural for any one particular body isn’t
easy. Some people are meant to be bigger that way, but if you’re kind of rangy, it’s hard work to pack it on.”
She studied him for a second. “You’re carrying an extra, what? Ten or twelve pounds of muscle? It’s a constant struggle to
keep it on, and just when you get cut the way you want, you get busy, don’t eat enough, and it’s gone.”
One eyebrow rose. “You know what you’re doing in the gym.”
“I know what I’m doing in a lot of places.”
He flashed her a grin. “I’m sure that’s true. And you’re right about me. I bust my ass to keep the muscle.”
“You’d find life a lot easier if you accepted your natural body type. You’ll always be strong, but you’re not meant to look
quite so buff.”
“I want to look good.”
“Oh please. You know you already do. But it’s your free time. If you want to spend it lifting, then go for it.”
“What’s your natural body type?”
“Athletic but with curves. I’m strong, but like you, I’m fighting nature. This weight is a constant battle. Ten pounds heavier and I can maintain without even trying.”
He frowned. “Then why not accept the ten pounds? They’d look good on you.”
“Have you seen a movie lately? Or a TV show? The women are unnaturally thin. I have to slip in, do my thing and then get out
of frame without anyone figuring out it was me. Nobody wants a fat stunt double.”
“You wouldn’t be fat.”
“Not in the real world, but for stunt work, I have to make sure I’m job-ready.” She paused. “Sometimes I think about what
it would be like to not care about my appearance so much. I’d have a lot of free time.”
“Last time you said you were thinking of leaving the stunt work. Is that still true?”
“I don’t know. I go back and forth.” She took a couple of bites as she considered her answer. “I don’t want to go through
another injury like this one, but if I walk away, I have to figure out what to do with the rest of my life.” There was the
screenwriting, but she didn’t want to talk about that. She didn’t know him well enough to trust him with something so precious.
“Do you have any interest in acting?” he asked.
“God no.” She grimaced. “Never.”
“Because with your dad, you’d be able to get auditions.”
“I could probably get cast without one,” she said. “My father has a lot of power in the business. But I’m not that person.
I’ve never wanted to take over the stage and be the star. Despite my love of going and doing, I’m still a bit of a background
person.”
“But you could be famous.”
“I’ve seen famous. It’s less fun than you think.” She looked at him. “Do you want to be in the business?”
His smile was easy. “I’m happy where I am.”
“You’re pretty enough.”
“Thanks. So are you.”
“It’s not the same. You have those smoldering good looks. Dark hair, dark eyes. A great smile.”
“You’re making me blush,” he teased.
She ignored him. “I’m telling the truth. You’re the classic ideal. I’m not. The world still responds to tall, lithe, blue-eyed
blondes.”
“Not my type.”
She wondered if that was true. As she picked up one of the street tacos, she asked, “Did you always want to go into the family
business?”
“Yes. From the time I was little. My parents took my brother and me to work on the weekends. Hector wasn’t interested in buying
or selling. He liked fixing things, which explains why he went into construction. But I always enjoyed seeing the houses and
trying to figure out what buyers would like and not like about any one property. By the time I was a teenager, I was helping
my mom with the staging and running comps.”
“Did your friends know?” she asked, her voice teasing.
“Hey, I was one of the cool kids.”
“So they didn’t have a clue that you were secretly picking out throw pillows.”
He grinned. “I got paid well for my expertise. Out of high school, I went to community college to get my AA in business. At
the same time, I got my real estate license. The day I graduated, my first sale closed.”
“So you like what you do?”
“Of course. Otherwise, the days would be long.”
“Do any of the buyers balk because you’re so young?” He was, after all, close to her age.
“All the time. They sometimes ask for a more experienced agent. I ask them to give me fifteen minutes to make my case.” The
smile returned. “They usually want to stick with me.”
She liked his confidence and the fact that, while he believed in himself, he wasn’t an asshole about it.
“Tell me about your romantic past.”
“Details and all?” he asked.
“Of course.”
He leaned back in his chair. “The first time I fell in love, I was seven. Unfortunately she was eight and not into younger
men, so she broke my heart.”
“What was her name?”
“Meagan Main.”
“Sounds like a porn star.”
He considered the statement. “I’m not sure how I would feel about Meagan being in the porn industry.”
“You’d get to see her naked. That would be a win.”
“I was seven,” he pointed out. “I was thinking more along the lines of us playing GI Joe together.”
“And after the tragedy that was your unrequited love?”
He shrugged. “I had the usual kind of love life. A couple of girlfriends in high school.”
“Were you prom king?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “No, but I was in the court.”
She held in a snort. “Of course you were. Let me guess. That night was the first time you and your girlfriend did it, and
the moment was magical.”
“Sorry, no. We’d been having sex for a while, although we did have a good time at prom. What about you?”
“I did have sex on prom night, but not with my date. He wanted to wait until we were in love. What a moron.”
“Because you don’t believe in romantic love?”
“I do believe. My parents have been crazy about each other from the day they met. Their love is a constant in my life.” She
sipped her margarita. “Love exists. It’s strong and powerful and nothing I want.”
“Why not?” His expression turned quizzical. “Everyone wants to be loved.”
“Love comes at a price, and I’m not interested in paying.”
He studied her without speaking. She tried not to squirm. What did she care what he thought of her? He was just some random guy who’d brought over great Mexican food.
“Who hurt you?” he asked.
“I told you—I don’t do relationships. No one gets close enough to hurt me. I like it that way.”
“Sounds lonely.”
“To you, Mr. I-Want-A-One-True-Love.”
He laughed. “I don’t think I’d go that far.”
“Sure, you would. You like relationships.”
She thought he might disagree, but he surprised her by nodding.
“I do.”
“Why? Relationships tie you down.”
“I like the connection and knowing that I matter to someone. I like being there for someone.”
“Yuck. Too many feelings. I like sex.”
His smile returned. “Me, too.”
“Good. Then we should get to it.” She tilted her head. “The bedroom’s that way.”
“Thanks, but it’s too soon.”
While his response wasn’t unexpected, she was still disappointed. “I thought I was your type.”
His eyes dilated slightly. “You are, but I want to be more than a distraction.”
“You mean a relationship?” She shuddered. “I think I’ve been more than clear when I say that’s not happening.”
“Which leads me to again ask, who hurt you?”
She raised her arm as if glancing at a watch on her wrist. “Look at the time. If you’re not going to put out, you should probably
be going. But you can leave me the leftovers.”
“Okay, I’ll stop asking, but I won’t stop wondering.”
“Wonder away. You get to do anything you want in the privacy of your mind, but I don’t want to hear about it.”
“Want to watch a movie?”
She sighed. “I guess. If you’re sure about the no-sex thing.”
“I am.”
“I was hoping for more.”
“Dinner and a movie is what’s on the table. Thoughts?”
She should toss him out. Now that she’d eaten, there wasn’t much point in keeping him around. Except she kind of liked his
company.
“You can stay,” she said grudgingly. “But I get to pick the movie.”
“Fine by me.”
“It might be a cartoon.”
“I’m in.”
“With singing.”
He leaned toward her and smiled. “I don’t scare that easily.”