Page 41 of Kissing Games
‘We love each other.’
His face hardened. ‘Yeah, well, if you’re close, we’re as far apart as planets in different galaxies. My dad was in the army and my mum was the archetypal army wife. Her life was his life. They’re cold, they’re distant, and I’m their biggest fucking disappointment.’
She gasped. ‘Charlie! That cannot be true. You’re incredible.’
He gave her a small smile and shrugged. ‘Everything I touch turns to shit.’ He drank another shot. ‘Anyway, that’s enough about me. Now it’s your turn to answer some questions.’
14
Valentina grabbed a green drink and gulped it down. She didn’t want to talk about her life. She couldn’t hide herself around him. He saw everything.
‘Ugh, what isthat?’ she asked, looking at the glass suspiciously.
‘Midori. Melon liqueur from Japan. The other green one is crème de menthe, so you might as well have that one next.’
She took the glass and sipped it. She was now feeling properly drunk, wavering on the edge between fun and crazy; between smiling goofily at him and crawling across the table and ripping off his clothes.
‘So,’ he continued. ‘Tell me more about you and your family.’
She shrugged and took another drink. ‘You’ve googled me. You should know it all.’
‘Yeah, because the internet is always right.’
She finished the drink and started another, staring into the glass.
Charlie gestured at it. ‘Vodka and Red Bull. So you’ll be drunkandawake. All I know is that you come from a large family and you’re twenty-nine. Correct?’
She met his gaze and held it, frantically putting up walls between them, which fell down with every bat of his lashes.
‘When’s your birthday?’ he asked.
‘July twenty-eighth,’ she replied, her voice breathy.
He sat back. ‘No way. Really?’
She smiled and nodded.
‘Me too. That’s so cool. So you’ll be thirty this summer and I’ll be thirty-three.’
Her stomach tightened as she nodded again. He paused and looked at her.Reallylooked at her. The room was tilting. She grabbed the table.
‘You’re not twenty-nine,’ he stated.
She stood up, pushing her chair back. ‘I have to use the bathroom.’
The ladies’toilet in the pub was small, with only two stalls. She washed her hands and stared at her reflection. She looked sad and felt old before her time. She’d already lived a lifetime of work. She had no choice. She had to make enough money before forty; the magical cut-off time in Hollywood when most roles for women dried up. She might prolong the biological clock with Botox and fillers, but that was a line in the sand she wasn’t sure she could cross. For now, she would rely on genes and clean living.
She let out a laugh. Clean living? Her life was clean but there was no living. Now her cheeks were flushed with alcohol and desire flooded her body. This felt like living but it could never last. She owed him at least that truth. She ran her fingers through her hair, gave herself a nod in the mirror and went back out.
She sat opposite him and finished the vodka and Red Bull.
He was looking at her warily. ‘You okay?’
She put the glass down and nodded. ‘Charlie,’ she began.
‘Ye-es?’
‘I want to be honest with you.’
