Page 67 of How to Kiss a Movie Star
Flint
I’vebeenwaitingforAudrey for hours, anticipating her arrival, and I’m still not prepared to see her standing on my doorstep, looking like some kind of vision ripped directly out of my private fantasy.
The first time I saw Audrey outside the Feed ’n Seed, I noticed her—her eyes, in particular.
Then I actually met her and got to know her a little bit, and she only became more attractive. Even in her cargo pants and T-shirts, her hair swept back in practical ponytails, her face completely bare. I even thought she was cute when she was dressed up like a shrub.
But now?
I don’t know what to think. How to breathe.
I definitely don’t know how totalk.“Hi,” I croak out, my hand still gripping the front doorknob. “You look…Wow.”
I am a fumbling mess, and I don’t even care. Any man in this position would be.
Audrey lifts a hand to her hair, which is down, falling around her shoulders in loose waves, and runs her fingers through the glossy strands. Her eyes drop to the floor, like she’s nervous, or at least uncomfortable, and I do my best to rein in my reaction. The last thing I want to do is make her feel like new clothes and hair make her any more worthy of attention than she was before.
“That’s not to say…I mean, you always looked…”Oh man. Abort! Abort! This is not going well.“I just mean you look nice. That’s all.”
I finally step back from the door and gesture into the house. “Come on in.”
She follows me into the living room and drops her bag onto a chair. Her hands move to the skirt of her dress, smoothing it down, and I do my best to keep my eyes on her face and not her long, shapely legs. “It’s fine if you say something about how different I look,” she says, lifting her gaze to meet mine. “I looked in the mirror, Flint.” She looks down at her dress and holds her arms out to the side, lifting them just slightly. “It’s pretty drastic, right?”
I push my hands into my pockets. “You look beautiful,” I say. “Truly.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re just saying that because you have to,” she says.
“Why would I have to?”
She waves her hands in front of her like she’s trying to emphasize her point. “You know. The whole fake girlfriend thing. The charade. Telling me I’m beautiful—that’s what a boyfriend would say.”
I lift my eyebrows and look around the room. “There’s not anyone else here for us to fool, Audrey.”
She drops onto the couch with a tiny, adorable huff. “I know that. But I guess I figured you were just, I don’t know, practicing?”
I sit down on the opposite end of the couch, angling myself so I’m facing her. “There are probably things that weshouldpractice,” I say. I lean forward and clasp my hands together, resting my elbows on my knees. “But Audrey, if we’re alone, if there’s no one else who can see us or hear us and interpret our interactions, it’s important to me that you know—I won’t lie to you. I won’t pretend.”
She nods and bites her lip. “Okay. That’s good to know.”
“I really do think you look beautiful right now.”
She takes a deep breath. “My eyebrows are still sore from the torture they put me through at the salon. I’m surprised I have any eyebrows left.”
I grin. “Does it make you feel better or worse about the suffering to know I thought you were just as beautiful before?”
She raises one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. “You really thought I was beautiful before? Even when I was wearing my bush hat?”
“Especially when you were wearing your bush hat.”
She shakes her head and lifts her hands to her cheeks. “That feels like a lifetime ago. So much has happened since then. I mean, for me, anyway. It probably doesn’t feel that way for you.”
I hold her gaze for a long moment. “No, it feels that way for me, too.”
There’s a question in her eyes, and I wish I had some way to answer it. But I don’t have any more clue what’s happening between us than she does. I just know I really like sitting here across from her.
“Flint, thank you for today,” she says, her voice soft. “It was pretty magical. And your family was amazing.”
Heat spreads through my chest. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you had a good time.” My hand twitches with the desire to reach out and touch her, and I curl my palms into fists. If this keeps up, I might have to sit on my hands.
