Page 37 of From the Moment We Met

“Hi.” At least he had the grace to look uncomfortable.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to be certain you got home safe.”

Lilly considered his statement. “Sabina could have called me—wait, how did you get my address?”

Jacob smiled and rubbed his hands together, staving off the cold. Lilly opened the door wider, inviting him in. “I obtained it through the age-old practice of bribery.”

Lilly giggled. “And what did it cost you?”

“Liquor and a hug.”

“Wow. My address comes cheap. Did you stop by just to check on me or would you like to stay for a drink?”

Jacob’s eyes smoldered as he raked over her form, and Lilly flushed when she remembered what she was wearing. “Crap, sorry, I wasn’t expecting company.” She crossed her arms across her breasts in a futile attempt to cover them through the thin material.

“You’re perfect. And I would love a drink.”

Lilly led him to the living room and poured him two fingers of whiskey. Jacob warmed himself by the fire, the flames casting a golden hue on his beard. “Here you go.”

He thanked her and took a sip, moving towards the couch. “I hated that you left like that.”

“I walk home all the time; although tonight was frigid. Besides, you need to be there for your fans.”

Jacob stared into his whiskey. “I wanted to be there for you.”

Lilly plopped down on the opposite side of the couch, smiling at his statement. “I’m still mad at you.” She giggled when he groaned and leaned back against the sofa cushion.

“It was such bad form, I was a total wanker.” His face grew somber as he held her gaze. “I’m sorry, Lilly.”

Lilly pretended to mull over his apology but broke off laughing when a sofa pillow flew in her direction. “Don’t make me spill my drink, that’s alcohol abuse.” Their laughter dissipated any remaining tension. “Tell me, what’s it like?”

Jacob’s face scrunched in confusion. “What’s what like?”

“Being famous, being a sex god—”

“You think I’m a sex god?” His mouth twitched with amusement.

“I’m not saying I think that—” Lilly faltered, her cheeks growing red.

“Then why are you blushing?” Jacob was enjoying this line of questioning far too much.

“I blush at everything. I’m white as a ghost, it's an unfair trait. Now, what was I saying before I was so rudely interrupted? What’s it like, having people hound you everywhere you go?”

Jacob sighed. “My fans are amazing, but it gets exhausting. My career doesn’t allow me privacy, and the tabloids write all sorts of—”

“Garbage?”

“I hate to admit it, but tabloids are often spot on with their stories, they just don’t wait for approval before publishing.”

Lilly pulled a pillow in front of her, leaning on it with her elbows. “I don’t read tabloids.”

Jacob’s gaze warmed her insides as his fingers brushed up her forearm. “I didn’t figure you did. You’re different from the women I know.”

Lilly leaned back, uncertain of how to interpret his statement. “I’m not surprised. How many hippie tree-huggers do you know in Hollywood?”

“Not enough.”

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