Page 25 of Wildest Dreams

“It’s on the old bucket list.”

I finish the last bite of my lunch, fold the wrapper, put it in the bag on the table, then take a long drink of water.

“Maybe you’re right,” I concede. Something about his words bring my walls down a notch, enough to admit to myself that I am, in fact, unmoored.

“So, what do you want for you?” he says, tilting his head to the side.

“I asked you first,” I answer, deflecting.

“Fair enough. If I’m being honest with myself, I want to leave Hollywood. Leave the pressure. Leave the circus. Maybe do a few indie pictures every now and then, but mostly I want to be left alone.”

“Do you want a family?” I ask.

“With the right person, in the right place, absolutely. Not in LA. Or New York, for that matter. Maybe Ireland. It’s nice there. Or Maine. Right now, I have no one and where I end up depends on who I’m with, which is the most important factor. It would be nice to have that anchor. That stable foundation.”

“Yeah.” He’s right. We are the same.

This is torture.

“What about you?” he asks.

I sigh, knowing I may as well be honest. “I want kids. I want someone to build my life around. I want to get old and have a brood of grandbabies to feed. I thought I’d have that with Tucker but, in retrospect, it’s for the best. He was never the right guy. I was trying to make him into something he’s not. We were bad for each other.”

I close my eyes after I finish talking. It’s remarkable. I feel physically lighter, having admitted all of that. Simply saying the words lightens the load. Panic fills my core from the sudden unexpected honesty with him and myself, but I know it’s a good thing. I need to open back up again.

My eyes water and I look at Pierre, whose expression mirrors my own. He reaches for my hand and I let him squeeze it. I rub my thumb across his smooth skin, then the familiar voice in my heart screams “no, no, no.”

I let go of his hand, close my eyes, and shake my head. “I can’t get close to you like this. What are we doing? You live in California. It’s practically a different world. If you’re looking for a hook-up girl while you’re here, you need to find someone else.”

I stand up and grab our bag of trash, embarrassed that I basically word vomited all over him. He didn’t deserve that. I’d panicked.

He also rises, then takes the bag from me.

“Here’s the thing, Kendall. I’m not looking for a cheap thrill. I can’t promise we’re going to get married and live happily ever after. We just met. But I can tell you I have nothing but good intentions. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know where this could lead, but I like you. I feel a strong pull to you that I haven’t felt in years, if ever. I’m not ready to throw that away because of geography. Let’s relax and see where this goes.”

I look up at him. His brow has broken out with a small layer of sweat from the high sun, and his gaze holds so much sincerity that I feel the wall around my soul go down a little bit more.

“Okay,” I say, my heart skipping a nervous beat.

He smiles and takes me in his arms. He’s hot, literally, but I don’t care.

When we release each other, he throws away our sandwich bags and we both realize that more people have gathered around the park watching us, some not even trying to hide that they’re taking pictures.

“I don’t know how you live like this,” I say with a nod towards them.

“It wears on you, that’s for sure,” he replies as we begin the walk towards my office. “When can I see you again?” he asks.

“You’re the one with the busy schedule. You tell me.”

“Table reads are tomorrow, but we should be done in the afternoon. Do you want to come over for dinner? I’ll cook for you.”

“No, I’m not comfortable?—”

“Oh, the house. Right.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. It’s…bad memories and all.”

“I get that. I can come to your place. Or we can go out, but that won’t be very private.”

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