Chapter Five #2
building—bass notes humming through the sidewalk, laughter spilling out onto
the street. There’s a red carpet, and part of the area is roped off. Bouncers
and PR people stand at the door, checking the guest list to make sure no one
gets in who isn’t supposed to.
We pause on the
corner, and my eyes widen at the rooftop lights strung like stars above the
tall, brick building. I knew the party was being held on the roof, but it’s
still such a pretty sight, even from down on the street level.
Christian gently nudges me, and I can tell he’s been
watching my reaction. “Found it. And no pizza required.”
“Well, that sucks,” I tease. “I was kind of looking forward
to it.”
He lets out a breath as he stares up at the building. “You
ready for this, Ella Rose?”
I give his biceps a quick squeeze as I nod. “Let’s do this.”
I spot a few photographers, and as Christian and I approach
the red-carpet area, we stop and pose for a few pictures.
“Hey, is that Christian Lucas?” I hear someone call out, but
Christian only waves and smiles, politely acknowledging his question but
avoiding the spotlight. When we step into the building, I ask him why.
“Tonight’s your night,” he replies, gently brushing a strand
of hair away from my face. The touch of his hand makes me shiver ever so
slightly, and I’m starting to get addicted to it.
I almost want to ask someone to pinch me because this feels
a little like a dream. Not the movie premiere, but this man. This incredibly
sweet, considerate, and selfless man. I’ve dated actors, and they never missed
an opportunity to promote themselves. So, the mere fact that Christian is
willing to take a metaphorical step back for me feels weird.
Nice, but weird.
Inside, the elevator smoothly carries us up with a low hum.
I’m not a fan of enclosed spaces. I wouldn’t say I’m claustrophobic, but I
secretly hope it’s a quick ride to the roof. I grip the rail just a little
tighter for good measure.
Christian notices my unease and steps in front of me,
forcing me to focus on him—his piercing blue eyes filled with tenderness and
maybe a hint of something else. “Don’t worry, if it breaks down, I’ll keep you
entertained with my questionable dance moves.”
I know he’s going for funny and distracting, but my eyes
still go wide. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?” I ask with a nervous
laugh.
The doors open before he can answer, revealing the lighted
rooftop filled with the buzz of voices. The smell of food drifts to us from the
buffet tables. Music plays, something lively but not too loud, and clusters of
people stand around chatting with glasses in hand.
Christian gestures ahead, stepping back so I can go first.
“After you. Let’s make an entrance.”
I hesitate for just a beat, then walk forward, taking his
hand in mine. Christian falls into step beside me, lowering his voice as if we
are the only two people there. “Okay, so…what do we do first? Do we need to let
anyone know you’re here? Or do we mingle?”
“Mingling is fine. We just need to make sure we say hello to
a few key people,” I explain. “But we’re not in any kind of rush.” I glance
around and wave to some actors I know. “Do you want to get something to drink?
Or maybe check out the buffet?”
He grins. “Or are you ready to see just how questionable my
dancing is?”
“Um…I’m gonna take a hard pass on
that for now,” I say lightly, patting his chest. Our laughter mingles with the
music, light and unguarded, as we step into the glow of the party.
We weave our way through the crowd toward a bar tucked under
a string of lights. I order a glass of sparkling punch, while Christian gets
water with a lime wedge balanced on the rim.
When we’re a few feet away from the bar and find a
semi-quiet little pocket, he raises his glass toward me. “Second date, first
toast. Do we toast to you? The movie? The success of the movie?” He laughs
softly before his expression turns thoughtful. “I think I want to propose a
toast to you. You played an awesome punk rocker, and your talent blows me away.
So…to you.”
I know I’m blushing even as I whisper, “Thank you.” After we
touch glasses and drink, I’m already wondering how long we have to stay. I know
this is where I’m supposed to be, and it’s important for me to make connections
and promote the movie, but what I really want is to find someplace quiet so we
can just sit and talk until the sun comes up.
“Ella! There you are. I thought I saw you come in.” My
publicist, Ava, is suddenly at my side, and we do air-kisses before she turns
and positively gushes over Christian. “Christian Lucas, look at you. No wonder
Ella’s friends wanted her to go out with you. I’m so glad your publicist
convinced you to make the call.”
Then she’s got her arm around me as Christian and I exchange
awkward grins.
“And seriously, how impressed are you with our girl here?”
she goes on. “Did she do a fabulous job in this movie or what?”
Before the poor man can answer, Ava’s talking again.
“Listen, you need to work the room a bit. I want there to be
pictures of the two of you all over the place tomorrow.” She takes a step back
and studies us. “You’re gorgeous together. Absolutely and completely gorgeous!
People are going to both hate and love you because you’re so adorable
together.”
I try to get her to maybe ease up a bit, but she’s already
doing another round of air-kisses before disappearing into the crowd.
Christian looks a little dazed, and I feel like I need to
put his mind at ease. “She’s only like this at events, I swear.”
“That was…wow. She’s a lot.”
“I know. I know, and I’m sorry. If you want, we can leave
and—”
Taking my hand in his, he just holds it. “We’re not going
anywhere. Apparently, we need to work the room so people can love and
hate us.” He chuckles. “I’m not exactly sure what that means, but I think we
can pull it off.”
Tilting my head, I stare at him and wonder if I need to
explain it or if he’s teasing. “How do you feel about doing a little gushing
while you’re plastered to my side?”
He’s instantly beside me, one arm banded around my waist,
his hand resting on my hip, and his breath is warm against my ear. “You are
fabulous. I’m thinking Academy Awards.” Pulling back slightly, he winks,
clinking his glass gently against mine. “What do you think, will that work?”
“It’s a little over-the-top, but…I like it.” I kiss his
cheek without thinking. His freshly shaven skin is so smooth, and his natural
scent is intoxicating. It makes me want to linger and simply inhale.
But I don’t.
Instead, I pull back as our eyes meet. I feel like we’re
asking a dozen questions without saying a word, and for a moment, the rooftop
crowd seems to fade into the background.
Why did you kiss me?
Can I kiss you?
If we work the room fast, can we leave?
Do we have to work the room?
Someone bangs into me as they walk by, breaking the moment,
and I realize that there’s been a photographer taking photos of us canoodling
this whole time. Ava is standing behind him and gives me a wink as if saying, “Good
job.” I look at Christian, completely embarrassed, but he seems to take it
in stride.
“Come on,” he says, leaning in close to my ear. His breath
is warm, and it makes me tremble slightly. “Let’s mingle and see what’s on the
buffet. I think I saw someone with pizza, but maybe it was wishful thinking.”
And, just like that, we’re laughing again as we step away
from our little spot and face the crowd. Then, almost as a unit, we join them
and do our best to be fabulous.
It’s late.
I don’t even know exactly what time it is, but I know it’s
late.
We stayed at the party for longer than I thought we would,
but we ended up having a great time. We ate a little, drank a little—fun fact,
neither of us drinks alcohol, but we both enjoy a good mocktail—and danced and
schmoozed like we were supposed to. Christian’s dancing was a bit
questionable, but I love that he was willing to get out on the floor with me.
After we left, we stopped at an ice cream shop and split a
sundae because I was dying for something sweet. There was dessert at the party,
but honestly, I was ready to leave and go someplace with just the two of us.
“I finally remembered what I wanted to ask you the other
night,” he says after scooping up some ice cream.
“When we went out Monday night and were at the stadium, you
mentioned how twenty-two was your favorite number, remember?”
I nod around a spoonful of whipped cream.
“Were you on a flight to LA about two months ago?” he asks,
seeming a little hesitant. “And were you drawing the number twenty-two on a
piece of paper?”
My eyes go wide. I can’t believe I didn’t put it together
sooner. There’s been this feeling like there was something familiar about him
since I first saw him at the game a few weeks ago.
“Oh, my goodness. You were sitting next to me!”
It’s his turn to nod. “I was.”
“You may not believe this, but I really wanted to keep
talking to you. After I told you about, you know, the ex
sitting in front of us, I got the feeling that you thought I was a
little weird and weren’t the least bit interested in continuing our
conversation.”
His face scrunches up a bit. “You’re not completely wrong.”
“Oh, man, I knew it,” I murmur.
“But I was also exhausted. My schedule had been very hectic,
and then after I had to run across the airport to avoid missing the flight, I
just wanted to close my eyes and rest. Your note about the ex
just forced me to nap.”
I can’t help but laugh. Luckily, he does, too.
The walk back to his car feels like miles, but that’s
because I’m getting tired. He offers to get us a cab so I won’t have to keep
walking in heels, but I power through.
Now, we’re parked in front of my apartment building, and I’m
debating whether to ask him in.
The vehicle’s interior is dim and a little warm. Christian’s
holding my hand, and I know I’m going to miss it when it’s time for him to go.
“Do you have a game tomorrow?” I ask.
A soft laugh is his first response. “Today was a rare day
off for me, so yeah, I have a game tomorrow. We have games almost every day