Wicked Heart (Starcrossed #3)(32)

“I have to go.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do. I have things I need to take care of.”

“Me too. All of them involve being inside you. Leaving isn’t an option.”

I pull at his arm again. It’s like iron. “Don’t you have to pack?”

“All done. I’m having dinner with Mom and Dad tonight and then they’re taking me to the airport in the morning. Other than that, I’m free.” He loosens his grip and pushes me onto my back, then leans over for a lingering kiss. “Is this convincing you to stay?”

“Hmmm. I’m not sure. Maybe you should try harder.”

He presses his very obvious erection against my hip. “This hard enough?”

My whole body reacts. “Ah, yes. That’ll do.”

“Man, you’re easy. Thank God.”

I squeal as he pins me to the bed.

Forty minutes and two orgasms later, I’m boneless. I drift in and out of consciousness, and when I open my eyes, Liam’s there, head cradled in his hand, staring down at me.

“I’m confused,” he says with a frown.

“About what?”

“You say you’ve had boyfriends who’ve left you for other women.”

“Yes. Three of them, to be precise.”

“Did you exclusively date blind men? Or were they just total idiots? Because honestly, apart from those options, I don’t see how it’s possible.”

I smile. “I told you the reason already. They were actors.”

“That explains nothing.”

“Doesn’t it?” I turn on my side to look at him. “Tell me about how you feel about Olivia.”

He frowns. “Olivia? As in Juliet-Olivia?”

“Yes.”

He looks at me dubiously. “Is this one of those tricky female questions I shouldn’t answer for fear of being smacked?”

“No. Just be honest.”

He doesn’t seem convinced. “Okay. I . . . like her?”

“As a friend?”

“Yes. Just a friend. Definitely nothing more.” He still looks nervous, so I stroke his chest to calm him. Also, because his chest is beautiful and I want to touch it.

“So now explain how your love scenes in Romeo and Juliet were as hot as hell.”

“They were?”

“God, yes! Did you not notice me subtly fanning myself every time you guys made out?”

“I just figured you were warm.”

“I was. In my pants.” He laughs and lies back on the bed. When he puts his hands under his head, I don’t miss the way his biceps pop. I run my forefinger over one.

“I had no clue you were turned on,” he says. “I was trying so hard to stay away from you, I avoided looking at you most of the time.”

“So, how did you do it?”

“Stay away from you? It wasn’t easy. Cold showers and heavy drinking helped.”

I pinch his bicep, and he squirms. “I mean, how did you appear so in love with Olivia when you only liked her as a friend?”

He pauses. “I don’t know. I just used my imagination, I guess. As Romeo, when I looked at Juliet, I made my body feel things for her. My adrenal system is pretty gullible.”

A tinge of jealousy squirms inside me. “So you just made yourself feel love for her, and then expect me to believe those feelings don’t bleed over into real life?”

He turns to me and props himself up on one arm. “It’s not that simple. Onstage, Romeo was completely in love with Juliet, but offstage . . . I don’t know. Olivia was a different person. So was I.”

“But she’s not. And you’re not. You’re the same people with the same faces and bodies. How is it possible for actors to make love to someone every night onstage and stay faithful to their wives and girlfriends offstage?”

“Lots of actors do it.”

“And lots don’t, and it seems I have a talent for choosing the ones who can’t separate fantasy from reality. That’s why I didn’t want to get close to you. I couldn’t cope with being collateral damage again.”

He sits up and frowns at me. “So what you’re saying is that if we were in a relationship, I’d naturally develop feelings for my leading lady and dump you?”

“History would suggest yes.”

“My unbelievable attraction to you would suggest no fucking way.”

“Attraction fades.”

“Wrong. Lust fades. Attraction keeps people together long after lust is just a distant memory.”

“And what makes you think that what you feel for me isn’t just lust?”

He cups my cheek. “Because I’ve lusted after a lot of girls in my life, and let me tell you, not once did it feel like this.”

He leans down and kisses me gently, and I know he’s right. A simple brush of his lips may be enough to set my whole body on fire, but beneath that simmer is something else. A feeling of rightness. Hell, I’d even go so far as to entertain his romantic concept of fate if I wasn’t so stubborn. But how can fate call him to Hollywood as well as make it feel like he’s mine? That’s not even a little fair.

I pull back, and he sighs. “If I wasn’t leaving I could prove to you that not all actors are abandoning assholes.”