Spoiler Alert (Spoiler Alert #1)(56)



She stroked him with her thumb, a gentle arc of a caress. “Because you weren’t comfortable in your own skin.”

“No. Not like I am now.” For the first time since the conversation began, he touched her in return. His hand covered hers, pressed it close to the soft, nubby fabric of his sweater. “But once I had that version of myself established, April, I was kind of stuck.”

An elderly couple was walking arm-in-arm on the sidewalk nearby, chatting amiably as they drew closer. Close enough to hear things Marcus didn’t yet want revealed to the world.

Even though the two wizened men weren’t listening, she still lowered her voice to a thready whisper. “What do you mean?”

He edged closer. Ducked his head to speak directly into her ear, that golden hair cool and silky against her cheek. Softened his voice to match hers.

“After a year or two, I thought about changing my public persona, but I didn’t want Gates fans to think I was just fucking with them this whole time as some sort of weird, mean joke. I’d have to explain why I’d been pretending, and I didn’t know how to do it in a way that would satisfy them but not humiliate me.” He blew out a breath, and it tickled her earlobe enough to make her shiver. “To be frank, I’ve also been happy not to answer questions about scripts the last three seasons.”

That was as close to criticism of the show as she’d ever heard him venture. And as part of the Lavineas server, whose denizens linked to and analyzed every interview he gave, no matter how vapid, she would know.

Another gesture of trust, offered this time without prompting.

The couple had passed by them and shuffled farther down the street, but she didn’t back away. The intimacy of their position warmed her against the spring breeze, and he smelled—

A perfumer would know, could tease apart each delicious, herbal note. He’d said so.

She couldn’t. All she could do was inhale and sway closer and—wonder.

“Did you explain all this to your ex-girlfriends? Why you were different in private than in public?” she asked. “Because if I hadn’t pushed just now, I got the sense you’d have avoided the subject as long as possible.”

The material of his jeans teased against her knit leggings, thigh against thigh, and her lips parted.

“I haven’t had many relationships, April.” He wasn’t speaking into her ear anymore, but facing her from inches away, gaze as steady as that rhythmic heartbeat. “Just to be clear.”

Oh, he was very, very clear. From the heat radiating off him, his blown pupils, she suspected a glance downward would make his current state even more undeniable.

His hand tightened over hers. “And for the most part, I wasn’t different in private. Not until I knew them and trusted their discretion. Once I did trust them . . .” He leaned back a tad and ran his free hand through his hair. “I tried to transition slowly. At that point, things fell apart, for obvious reasons.”

With those bare centimeters of distance, she could breathe a little more easily. But her thinking remained muddled by pheromones and the lightning strike of lust, and she had no idea what he meant.

At her frown, he elaborated. “They began dating me based on my public persona, and then found themselves with someone entirely different. Someone inexplicable and kind of boring. When I’m not filming or working out, I like to stay home and listen to audiobooks, or go online, or wr—” He paused. “Or ride horses. Or watch baking shows with Alex. I was, um—”

When he took a half step away, the morning chill sneaked between them. “I was a disappointment, I guess.”

To his exes, the change must have seemed inexplicable. And to Marcus . . . dammit. He must have felt rejected for who he really was. Again.

“On top of that, dating someone in the public eye is hard on a relationship, even without other issues,” he said. “You’ve already experienced a few of the downsides. Did the paparazzi find you last week?”

“Yeah.” If she sounded like she didn’t care, that was almost entirely the truth. Especially at this moment, with this man only inches away.

Now that the fog had lifted, sunshine highlighted the starbursts of fine lines at the corners of his solemn eyes, the brackets surrounding his perfect mouth, the creases running across that noble forehead. Somehow the lines didn’t look like flaws, even in the unfiltered, unforgiving glare. Instead, they only transformed his unmistakable prettiness into something earthier, something she could grasp in her fist and take between her teeth and consume.

Honestly, if she hadn’t begun to like him so much, she would find his excessive handsomeness extremely aggravating. And despite all her affection, she still wanted to rumple all that beauty, wanted to sink her fingers into that shiny, silky hair and pull, even as she traced the jut of his jaw, sharp as flint, with her tongue.

What sound would he make if she bit him there?

When he swallowed, his throat bobbed. “Is that why you changed your number?”

He was breathing faster now, and fuck, she wanted him gasping in need. For her. Only her.

She shrugged. “Once they figured out my name, I had a few calls and some pictures taken. But changing my number helped, and they seemed to lose interest after a couple of days.” Once they concluded we weren’t dating anymore. “I figure the reprieve will end soon, and that’s okay. It’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

Olivia Dade's Books