Elastic Hearts (Hearts #3)(14)

“We both know if I want it to happen, it’ll happen,” I whispered.

“It won’t. It can’t.”

He straightened, turned my hand on the knob, then walked out to his black Jaguar without a backward glimpse. My heart was still rattling as his car purred to life. Our gazes caught momentarily as he waited for the gate to open behind him, and all I could do was stare. I was sure my gaze reflected my neediness. I hated the vulnerability I felt when I was near this man. I was living with last year’s Sexiest Man of the Year, yet there I was, feeling things I hadn’t felt in over a year. For Victor Reuben, of all people. I was so screwed.





“I DON’T KNOW what’s wrong with me,” I said to my friend Talon as I continued to sew the eighteenth-century-style dress I was working on.

Talon had been the one who convinced me to work on this movie. Partially because she wanted to keep an eye on me with the separation and another because we always had fun when we worked on the same set, something we hadn’t done in over a year. She was the makeup artist to the stars, while I was the costume designer. Completely different jobs with similar lunch breaks.

She sighed and pinned back the tight ringlets of dark brown curls falling into her face. “I don’t know what to say, sweetie. You’ve been through a rough couple of years and now you’re stuck with this guy you had a major crush on when you were younger. I just don’t know what to say.”

“I’m not stuck with him,” I said, frowning. She shot me a look. “What? I’m not. I can hire another divorce lawyer. He just happens to be the best.”

“At that and other things, if I remember correctly.” A sly smile appeared on her face as she said it, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“This is a real problem. I’m around hot guys all the time. I mean, hello,” I said, pointing at the poster for the movie we were working on. The poster had a partially naked Eric Austin dressed as Tarzan. “Yet for some reason I’m around this guy for two seconds and I become a fifteen-year-old girl at a One Direction concert.”

Talon gasped. “I am thirty-two, thank you very much, and Harry is hot.”

“So is Victor.” Very, very hot.

“I know.” She paused. “But you guys have history.”

“We don’t,” I said, interrupting her. We didn’t. We had a short-lived fling if you could even call it that. Late night phone calls, quick sex in an office, a bathroom . . . those things didn’t constitute a fling. Right?

“Well, sexual history,” she said. “And you clearly still want to jump into bed with him.”

“I never jumped into bed with him,” I said. True and pointless reminder.

“You know what I mean.”

I shrugged.

“What happened with Gabriel? Was he weird after your almost hookup the other night?”

I groaned. “Weird? No. Annoying? Yes. He brought it up in front of Victor. I can’t believe I almost did that . . .” I felt a little ill, not because I was disgusted, but because I was appalled at myself. If my dad found out about that he’d kill me. Anything that made this divorce more difficult would not be okay with him.

“That was the wine,” Talon said. “We shouldn’t have drunk so much, and I did push that second bottle on you, so it’s technically my fault.”

I laughed. “Thanks for that, but you’re not going down for it, despite the fact it did almost cost me the embarrassment of a lifetime.”

“Yeah, well, alcohol is normally served with a side of embarrassment. My point is, you didn’t even want to touch Gabriel last year.”

“That’s because his nose was always powdered.”

She rolled her eyes. “Save the saint story for someone who buys it. You’ve done your share of drugs. Don’t act like cocaine isn’t equivalent to a shot of tequila around here.”

I slumped back in my chair. She was right. The difference was that when Gabriel did it, he became a different person. Aggressive and downright mean. I’d never told anybody, not even Talon, about the times I’d slept in the guest room out back because I knew if I went to a hotel I’d be photographed and rumors would start.

“Why is he here anyway?” Talon asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Who?” I asked, looking around.

“Gabriel. I thought he was in Canada.”

“Oh. Yeah. He said he was on a shooting break. I need to find out how long this break will last. I’m not sure I can actually stay there if he’ll be doing that every night.”

“Oh? So you actually might leave your humble abode?”

I sighed. “I didn’t want to, but I don’t think I can handle seeing him go to shit. That was what started this whole thing in the first place, and he’s really not going to change. I see that now.”

Talon took a seat in the chair beside me and took my hands in hers, her green eyes filled with concern. “You can stay with me. Mike won’t mind at all. We have the room. The kids would love to have Auntie Nicky there.”

I shook my head slowly. “Thank you. I can always stay at my dad’s for a while. Or get my own place. I’ll have to do that eventually anyway.”

Her eyes widened. “So you’re going to let him keep the house?”