Anyone But Rich (Anyone But..., #1)(51)

The corners of Rich’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Is that right? With your right hand, or your left?”

“Excuse me?” I laughed at the sound of my own outraged voice a second later. God. I wished I could get it together.

“I was asking which hand you usually masturbated with.”

I could see from the look on his face that he was messing with me, but I was too overwhelmed to take it in stride. My mouth gaped, and I couldn’t seem to think of an appropriate response.

“I was hoping you’d laugh,” he said softly. “You looked nervous.”

I swallowed and nodded a little too fast. “A little. Yeah.”

He took me wordlessly by the hand and led me inside his house. Soft music seemed to come from everywhere. It wasn’t cheesy I’m about to get some action music. It was just a nice, pleasant kind of ambience.

“Does that just play all the time?” I asked. My eyes searched the ceiling for speakers, but I couldn’t spot any.

“When the doors are opened,” he said. “So I guess if anyone ever decides to rob my house, they’ll get a mellow soundtrack to work by.” He must’ve seen the look on my face, because he tilted his head to the side and continued. “It gets a little lonely in here when it’s completely quiet.”

“I always imagined you as the type who would enjoy solitude.”

“Being in the spotlight is a strange kind of lonely. It feels like the whole world is looking over your shoulder, but they only want to watch the entertaining parts.” His eyebrows pulled together in thought. “Did you ever jump from a hot tub to a swimming pool when you were a kid?”

“Uh,” I said slowly. “Yeah, actually. Miranda’s parents had a hot tub, and sometimes we’d just go back and forth. Are we still talking about loneliness?”

“Well, do you remember how some days the pool wouldn’t feel cold, but if you came from the hot tub, it was like ice?”

“Yeah. And the hot tub felt like it was going to melt your skin off after the pool.”

“Right. Being a celebrity is kind of the same. If I go out to eat or to some event, I’m absolutely suffocated by attention. Then you get home, and the silence feels so intense by comparison.”

I studied his face. I could see something more buried in the sharp lines of his features now. I thought I understood how hard it must be. He wasn’t just some golden child who had everything go his way from birth. He was talented and gifted and lucky in so many ways, but his life wasn’t perfect. Nobody’s was. For once, I thought I understood that Richard King was no exception.

I put my fingers on the lapel of his coat and ran them down it. A rush of adrenaline spiked through me, because I felt like I wasn’t in the driver’s seat of my mind, but I knew exactly where I was headed. I wanted to make him feel better. I wanted to take away some of that loneliness, because I felt it too. Maybe not for the same reasons, but I always felt like I was different, and my differences created barriers between me and even my closest friends.

“Well,” I said quietly. “You’re not alone tonight, at least.”

He cupped my face and locked his eyes on mine. I thought my knees might give out from the intensity of the moment—his touch so soft against my jaw while his eyes bored straight into me. “I regret a lot of things.” His words brushed against my forehead. They were warm and still carried a faint scent of the fruits we’d had in our dessert. “I don’t intend for tonight to be one of them.”

A chill prickled across the nape of my neck. “Then I only have one question.”

His eyes roamed my face with a casual, unhurried reverence that was making it hard to think. He was absorbing every detail of me—I was sure of it. “Ask it.”

“Would your biggest regret be if you didn’t show me your dinosaur bones again? Or were you talking about something else?”

His lips twitched up at the corners, but his eyes still carried that unstoppable heat and purpose. “There will be plenty of time for that. After.”

“After what?” I asked, even though his tone gave me no doubt that I knew exactly what he was talking about.

Instead of responding, he scooped me up and carried me up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. I giggled, even though I’d never been the giggling type. “Don’t drop me,” I said.

“Don’t worry. If you get injured, I’ve watched enough medical TV shows to be your doctor.”

“I’d rather not need a doctor, thank you very much.”

“Oh, but I’m pretty sure you’d enjoy your visit.” He kicked open the door to his bedroom.

It was a beautiful space. The decorations were sparse, but they weren’t needed because of the sweeping view the far wall gave of the backyard, the river, and the twinkling lights beyond it.

“What would your treatment be if I broke my leg?” I asked.

He tossed me on the bed like I weighed nothing more than a throw pillow. I landed with another unexpected giggle, except this time, the laughter faded faster. A pulsing, burning heat was building in my stomach, and trying to take my mind from the inevitable was useless. He was going to take me, and it was going to be sublime.

“Broken leg?” he asked. He started loosening his tie while he thought, stripping off his clothes with that same slow, deliberate pace. “I’d prescribe bed rest.”