Page 75 of How to Kiss a Movie Star
It’stheweirdestsensation.
Everyoneis looking at us.
Flint keeps my hand held tightly in his, and Nate is a mountainous shadow hovering a few steps ahead, so I don’t feel unsafe. But all the eyes—it’s the most disconcerting thing I’ve ever felt.
In line at security, Flint pulls me close. “Audrey, stop looking at people, all right?” His words are gentle, not at all like a scolding, but my cheeks flush with heat anyway, though that could just be from his warm breath skating across my ear. “If you make eye contact, it invites conversation. And it only takes one person to approach for the dam to break, and theneveryonewill approach us, and we’ll never make it to our gate.”
I nod. “Right. That makes sense. No eye contact.”
He wraps his arm around me and tugs me against his chest. His warm, solid, deliciously amazing chest. “Just keep looking at me,” he says into my hair.
Behind us, someone calls out his name. I flinch and start to turn—a force of habit—and Flint’s arm tightens around me. “Don’t look,” he whispers, and I relax back into him, slipping my arms around his waist so we’re facing each other. I press my forehead against his chest and let out a little groan. “It wasn’t even intentional. More like a reflex. How do you keep yourself from responding?”
“Lots of practice,” he says. “You’re doing an excellent job selling the girlfriend thing, by the way.” His hands cinch a little tighter around my waist.
“Am I?”
“Mmhmm. You’ve basically gotmeconvinced, and I already know you’re faking.”
There is something easy about standing like this in Flint’s arms, and I find myself feeling disappointed when I have to let go long enough to walk through the security scanner.
The TSA officer on the other side of the scanner asks for a photo with Flint and he graciously obliges, putting a loose arm around her shoulder and leaning in while her co-worker takes the shot.
As soon as he returns to me, he slips my hand into his, then lifts it to his lips, pressing a kiss just above my knuckles.
And he thinksI’mgood at selling the girlfriend thing? I am putty in this man’s hands.
It’s almost time to board, so I expect us to go straight to the gate, but as we pass one of those frequent flyer private travel lounges, Flint and I veer off from Nate and Joni and duck inside. The lounge is mostly empty—maybe a benefit of the time of day?—and Flint immediately pulls back his hood and removes his sunglasses.
“Not in a rush to board?”
He shakes his head. “Nate and Joni will board first and let the gate agents know we’re on our way, then they’ll text when the plane is mostly boarded so we don’t have to sit there while everyone walks past us.”
“Man, the things you have to think about.”
His lips curve into the easy grin I’m beginning to love. “Are you hungry?” He looks around. “There are usually snacks in these things. And bathrooms, too. Nice, when you don’t want to get cornered coming out of the stall.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Has that ever happened?”
“More times than I can count.”
We walk together to a table full of snacks and iced beverages. Just beyond the table, there’s a bartender serving an older gentleman a beer.
Flint lifts his hands to my shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “We only have a few minutes, so I’m going to hit the bathroom while I can. Will you be okay here?” His eyes dart around the room like he’s legitimately worried about my safety.
There’s no one else even here, aside from the guy at the bar, but I appreciate his concern anyway. “I’ll be fine,” I say.
He leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Be right back.”
I close my eyes for the briefest second. It would be so easy to just give in. To soak up his attention and wrap it around my heart. To chase away the fear that’s currently acting as a giant barricade, and justsee what happens.
Could I do it? Could I actually—
“Oh my gosh. Are you actually dating Flint Hawthorne? That’s him, isn’t it? I swear, if it isn’t, your boyfriend could play his twin brother.” The woman appeared out of nowhere—could she have truly entered the lounge just in the time I had my eyes closed?—and is standing uncomfortably close to me. The look of expectation on her face is strange. She doesn’t just want an answer, she almost looks like she’sentitledto one.
I know the whole purpose of this is to beseenas a couple. But does that really have to happen right this second?
I take a step backward. “Yeah, funny. He gets that a lot.”
