Elastic Hearts (Hearts #3)(47)

“Yes, and I told you I don’t watch it.”

I shook my head. “Have you tried to watch it and you just didn’t like it? Because, I mean, this could very well be the moment I fall out of like with you, or whatever.”

His eyes roamed over my face, a slow tease of a smile splaying on his face. “Fall out of like with me? Did I miss the middle school memo?”

“I’m just saying.” I turned around when the coffee finished pouring in the first cup and replaced it with another. I held the cup in my hand as I walked over to him and extended it for him to take. “If I could go on any set for a day, it would be that one. Too bad I have no connections there.”

Victor took the cup from my hand with one of his and picked out something in my hair before looking back into my eyes. “Have you tried applying for a job there?”

“Have I tried?” I scoffed. “Of course I’ve tried. They have the best costume designers ever, though. I mean, Michele Clapton is a freaking genius. That’s like if Prada hired Kanye West or something.”

Victor chuckled, taking a sip of coffee. “So now you’re throwing Yeezy under the bus too?”

I smiled, trying not to laugh along. “I’m just saying. I’m good at what I do, but I’m not her.”

“I think you’re good,” he said, and added, “Really good.”

His words were serious, though the crinkles around his eyes were still present from his smile. I was tempted to run the tips of my fingers along each line. I loved it when he smiled like this, as if he were giving me a private showing of the Victor not many were allowed to see.

“I think you’re pretty good too,” I replied, smiling. “And for the record, I would have hated you in middle school. And also, I like Kanye’s music, I just think that when it comes to fashion, he thinks he’s better than he actually is.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter what you think. You don’t have the answers, Sway,” he said. I started laughing. Hard. And he joined in, setting his mug down in front of him.

“You know, for somebody who’s all business, and thinks his job is the most important thing ever, you can be pretty fun sometimes.”

He appraised me for a moment, his eyes dropping to my chest. “I’m fun a lot of times.”

“Sometimes,” I said, my voice beckoning his attention back to my face. “And you haven’t been much fun in that sense.”

“With good reason. Let’s try to get today out of the way.”

“And then you’ll be more fun?”

“Considering I’m just about ready to explode every time I hear your voice, let alone see you, I’d say that’s a possibility,” he said, his gaze heating the longer we looked at each other.

“Hmm.” My heart did a series of wild pitter-patters as I put my mug in the sink and walked around the counter. We stood face to face, one of his hands gripping the side of the counter and the other in his pocket. I placed my hand flat on his hard chest and trailed it down to his stomach, stopping above his belt. His breath hitched. “A big possibility,” I said.

“A very big possibility,” he said, swallowing, eyes blazing.

I smiled and dropped my hand, stepping away just slightly. “I should probably go put my shoes on.”

“You definitely should.” From the way he was looking at me, the last thing I wanted was to put more clothes on. “You should probably go do that now,” he added, stepping a little closer and bringing his thumb to my face to wipe at the side of my mouth.

My lips parted slightly, I felt my breath coming in tiny spurts as we looked at each other. His gaze held a promise, but more than that, there was a soft curiosity that hadn’t been there before, and as his hazel eyes brewed and studied mine, I went completely still, my body anchored by his. An earthquake could have shaken, my door could have been pounded down by a million paparazzi, and I still wouldn’t have moved, because his hand on my face and that gaze was the only thing I felt I needed.

We both blinked at the same time, his hand dropping as he cleared his throat.

“Yeah, let me . . . go get my shoes,” I said again, and disappeared into the hall. By the time I reached the top of the stairs, I wasn’t sure if my heart was galloping because of the steps I took two at a time or what had just happened in the kitchen. I didn’t know what was happening, but I knew I needed to get to that courthouse and make this go away once and for all so I could at least explore the realm of possibilities between us.

When we got outside, Victor positioned himself on the side the paparazzi were standing and put his arm on my shoulder as he led me down the sidewalk. When the cameras started flashing, I was glad I had my sunglasses on.

“Nicole, what happened the other day at the ice cream shop?”

“Is the divorce back on? Is that why you moved here?”

“Are you still working on your marriage?”

I kept my head down, my eyes on my black Jimmy Choos, and kept it moving. The questions continued until we got to the car, and even after our doors shut, the flashes continued.

“I don’t understand how anybody could live like that. It’s like living inside a fishbowl,” Victor said.

“With no water,” I replied.

He glanced at me as he stopped at the red light. “Do you get used to it?”