12. Jess #3
I considered changing the subject. Only for a moment though.
“Just thinking about how you swept me off my feet and carried me to my room,” I said, my voice dropping a little. “And how that got my engine running.”
He glanced at me before returning his attention to the car. “You mean how Tyrst’an swept you off your feet.”
“I’m not thinking about Tyrst’an right now,” I said, my teasing tone gone.
He stood up from the car, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You mean that?” he asked.
“It might have been the spark for all this, but that’s not why I’m here with you.”
“Your lack of car maintenance is why you’re here with me,” he teased, and I could tell he was trying to make light of the conversation. Avoiding where I was driving it.
It was like in the dressing room earlier. That hesitation to cross the line. However, after all I’ve learned tonight, I was ready to do more than cross it. Just like the night when he carried me to my room, I knew what I wanted.
I walked over to the other side of the car, putting myself in front of him so he couldn’t dismiss me. “I’m not joking, Danny.”
He hesitated, setting the old part on top of the engine.
He stayed silent for a moment. When Danny spoke, he did so slowly, choosing his words carefully.
"I've been in relationships before, but they never lasted long.
People either see me as a professional actor or confuse me with the roles I play, not recognizing the person behind the role.
It always leads to disappointment. I don't want that to happen again. "
I trembled as I reached out and ran my hand down his arm. “I’m not confused as to who you are. Or who I’m thinking about.”
He didn’t look at me, keeping his focus on the engine, frowning. “It wasn’t me that swept you off your feet the other night or what attracted you to me. It was just someone I was playing.”
“I wasn’t myself that night either,” I reminded him.
“I know who you are now. It wasn’t Tyrst’an who gave up a full scholarship to put his family first. He doesn’t make friends wherever he goes.
He doesn’t remember the names of fans he met briefly for a few minutes, or a dozen little details about their lives.
He doesn’t show up to support his friends or buy them dinner when they are having a rough day. ”
He didn’t respond. I reached out with my hand, pulling his chin gently so I could see his face.
“Tyrst’an didn’t introduce me to his closest friends and family. Or showed how vulnerable he could be,” I told him. “He may have played a small part in this, but it’s not Tyrst’an I want.”
“I thought we were trying to be impartial,” he said, gazing into my eyes.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. “Danny, I am so past impartial right now.”
His hands gripped the sides of the car, visibly torn. “I can’t start this with you. You haven’t even seen the finished trailer.”
“I know what I saw the night you caught me from falling to the ground. I saw what you did the next morning when you performed for the crowd. I witnessed what you did tonight. You’ve read four freaking Tyrant books in less than two days.
You’ve always been able to play him, and you’ve shown me your respect for the material,” I said, seeing his expression.
“I’m not the only one who knows you can do this.
Your sister. Your niece. Bray. Bennet. Sebastian wouldn't admit it aloud, but you know he would too.”
He opened his mouth and snapped it shut again, hesitating. So, I pulled out my phone and brought up my social media feed.
“I already posted this.”
I played the video I’d made earlier. He said nothing. The video looped, and he watched it a second time before I paused it. Our hands touched, and it was like an electric current went up my arm.
“You know this is crazy, right?” His voice was strained, and he took a giant breath as if steadying himself. “It’s only been a couple of days, and I have fallen so hard for you.”
I smiled. “Then you should let me catch you.”
The wrench fell out of his hand, and he pulled me into his arms. The faint smell of bergamot was overwhelmed by the scent of grease and grime from his work shirt.
I couldn’t care less. His lips found mine as his hands cupped my face. I threw my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
“What about my solar-noid thing?” I gasped, my lips making their way to his neck.
He let out a small groan. His hands ran down my back, and he lifted me up against him, carrying me through the garage. “Repairs are going to have to wait,” he growled.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, and pulled his work shirt open as he carried me to the back of my car. He pulled one hand free from me and fumbled with the car door, throwing it open.
“Really?” I whispered in his ear, teasing him. “We’re doing it in the back seat of my car?”
He moaned as my mouth found his jawline. “It’s either here or the hotel and–god damn it–I want you now.”
The last coherent thought I had as I fell into the back seat was how wonderful it felt to be wanted.