Page 45 of The Fangirl and the Playboy

The conversation goes on, and we fall into a familiar rhythm of banter that reminds me of how things used to be. By the time we roll into Jonas Hill, all of my nervous energy has fled, leaving me feeling warm and happy all over.

I’m glad I agreed to this. And I can tell Gavin is glad, too.

He pulls the car into the parking lot at Vincenzo’s, and I chuckle. Gavin looks over at me after he pulls into a spot, his eyebrows hiked up.

“Is this okay?”

“It’s perfect, actually,” I say on another laugh. “This is Trace’s favorite restaurant, and we come here a lot. The food is divine.”

We head inside, and the hostess leads us to our table. Gavin had them reserve one in the back corner, and I assume it’s so he’s not front and center, reducing the odds of our meal being repeatedly interrupted by fans. He holds my chair for me before taking his own seat, and the hostess assures us our waiter will be by shortly to take our drink orders.

As we peruse the alcohol and wine list, I feel Gavin’s eyes on me over and over, and it’s doing all kinds of things to my insides. I remember this feeling from when we were young, but back then, I didn’t really know what it meant. I assumed it was love, and though I’m sure I did love him, I can see now that the fluttering in my stomach––and lower––is pure, unadulterated lust.

“Excuse us.”

We both look up to see a couple of women standing beside our table. One is smiling broadly, and the other looks nervous as she shifts her weight from foot to foot.

“We’re sorry to interrupt, but we couldn’t resist the opportunity to meet you. Can we get a picture?”

I shoot a glance at Gavin, and he gives me an apologetic smile before turning his full attention to the women. “Of course.”

He takes the phone the smiling one holds out, then waits for them to crowd in close before taking the selfie. They thank him profusely before scurrying away, their giggles flowing back to us. Gavin retakes his seat and shakes his head.

“Sorry about that,” he says.

“Hazards of the job?” I ask, lobbing his earlier words about my job back at him with a laugh.

“Exactly,” he says, his gaze searching mine as his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“It’s part of the package when you’re dating a movie star, right?” I ask, filling the silence when he just continues to stare.

He cocks his head, a twinkle in his bright eyes. “So, we’re officially dating now?”

I mimic his expression, saying, “You tell me.”

His humor fades, leaving a serious expression. “If it had been up to me, we never would’ve stopped in the first place.”

His earnest words startle me, and I swallow thickly. If we never stopped dating, would we still be together? Married, with children? The mere thought should seem ridiculous, but it hits me hard, right in the heart. It’s possible. We could’ve had a life together all this time.

“Hey,” he says, reaching out to cover my hand with his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out with that, but I did mean what I said. I was in love with you back then, and I would’ve done anything to make it work if things hadn’t fallen apart the way they did. I would’ve told you the truth about Julia, confidences be damned. I would’ve made you understand that you were the only girl for me.”

“Gavin,” I breathe, unsure how to respond.

He shakes his head. “It’s okay. Everything happens for a reason, right? I’m just glad you’ve given me a second chance. Givenusa second chance.”

His hand still covers mine, and electric sparks shoot from the connection straight to my core. His words, the look in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice…

It’s all too much. I can’t take it.

“Can we leave?”

“What?” he asks, looking surprised. “We haven’t even ordered, yet. Aren’t you hungry? Please, I won’t bring up the past again. I promise.”

I’m shaking my head before he finishes, and I push myself up from my chair. “No. Let’s go.”

A look of disappointment mars his features, but he quickly covers it with a kind smile and he stands and leads me toward the exit with his palm on my lower back. He whispers an apology to the hostess, explaining that something unavoidable has come up, and we have to leave.

Unavoidable is right. We’ve been on this collision course for years, and it’s time to stop fighting the inevitable.

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