Page 74 of Between the Lines

“Mm-hmm.” His jaw is tense, and he looks back down at his wineglass like it has offended him. A furrow appears between his brows. “Are you in contact today?”

“God no. Absolutely not.”

I think about yesterday. The man I’d seen. So much more grown-up than the idiot I’d fallen for during the three weeks in front of the cameras. I was head over heels, plied with morecompliments than I’d ever received. I’d lost my virginity to him in front of the cameras, too. And then he moved on. I know he’s had a string of others since that time. Enough for an entire pearl necklace. And despite my panic last night…

“I’m honestly not even sure he’d remember me if he saw me again.”

“Of course he fucking would. You’re memorable, Charlotte. Trust me.” His voice comes out harsh and just a little bit indignant. “A man can’t be with you and then forget.”

“Do you wish you could?” I ask. The words slip out before I can stop them. “That would have made this whole… arrangement a bit easier, yes?”

His lips curve slightly, one corner lifting into a crooked smile. “I’m not the type of man who likes easy.”

I take a deep breath, but I can’t seem to get quite enough air. His undivided focus is a big thing to be on the receiving end of.

“Yeah. I feel the same.” This entire conversation is a terrible idea, and, maybe, that’s why it makes me feel alive. Just as I had last night. Being around Aiden is like being close to a flame, playing with fire until getting burned. “What was your most recent relationship?” I ask.

“A lot of interest in my love life tonight,” he says.

“In the time I’ve been here, shadowing you at your work, I’ve never seen you with anyone. Haven’t noticed any dates scheduled in your calendar. And you appeared to be… single… in Utah.”

“I was single in Utah. I am single now,” he says. Just like that—simple words, eyes on mine. I find it suddenly hard to swallow. “My most recent relationship ended a couple of years ago, give or take a few months.”

Right when the news broke about this father.

“Why did it end?” I ask.

“I think it’s my turn to ask a question.”

I lean back against the couch and take a sip of the wine. Pull a knee up and rest my chin on it. “Hit me with it.”

“Why are you single, Chaos?”

“Why?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of question is that?” I dig my teeth into my bottom lip and look from him to the beautiful people on the screen. “This isn’t a therapy session.”

He smiles. “No, it most definitely isn’t.”

“I don’t know why I’m single.”

He waves a broad, long-fingered hand. “Take your best guess, then.”

I stare at the vibrant red wine we’ve been sharing. Liquid courage, coupled with a bad idea… and yet, I’ve always been good at making bad decisions. Lord knows it’s gotten me in trouble before.

“I move around a lot, you know? Because I follow the subjects of my memoirs. That doesn’t really lend itself to long-term relationships.”

“Where’s home right now?”

“Los Angeles,” I say. There is no apartment waiting for me somewhere, no collection of furniture painstakingly put together from the inherited and the new. No paintings I love, no pet curled up on an armchair. And I like it this way. I like my freedom.

“I see,” he says. “And you don’t think a right man would follow you?”

That makes me chuckle. “No. Would you? I don’t think so. No, that’s why most of my… relationships, if you can call them that, have been short.” I shrug. “It’s never serious.”

He nods, and there’s a speculative glint in his eyes. Like he’s fitting this into his own narrative about me, just like I’m doing with him.

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