Fame, Fate, and the First Kiss(64)

She jumped up and ran into the kitchen. “It was so nice to meet you too! You need to come back and finish watching this with us. Please.”

I nodded once. “I will.”

She gave me a quick hug, then ran back into the living room.

Donavan smiled a little. “You made her life.”

“She made mine.” I walked back through his house and to the front door, where I turned around, feeling him behind me. “You don’t have to walk me out.”

“Lacey, what happened? What did I do?”

“Nothing. I just don’t want you to feel some sort of obligation toward me.”

“Obligation?”

“Can we just talk tomorrow? I’m so tired.” The smile I had been doing such a good job of keeping on my face slid off, and with it, my shoulders slumped.

“Yes, we can,” he said, and opened the door for me. Despite what I had said, he walked me out. When I saw my car, sitting in his driveway, I remembered he had driven it here.

“Your car,” I said. “Is it at school? I can take you to go get it. Yes, let me do that.”

“It’s okay. My mom can drop me off at school tomorrow on her way to work. I’ll get it then.”

“Okay . . . are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.” I took several steps toward my car when Donavan grabbed my hand and gave it a gentle tug, turning me back toward him.

“Things will look better in the morning.”

I nodded.

He kissed my forehead, again. Even though I wanted to melt into the comfort of it, I was beginning to think that was his pity move. He felt sorry for me. It was the same thing he’d done earlier. And after, I was the one who’d kissed him. Then he’d apologized for it. I turned back toward my car and took several more steps before irritation took over. I turned around. “I don’t need your pity,” I said. There. That made me feel better, getting that out of my head.

“My . . . what?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

“You said you don’t date actresses.”

“I don’t.”

“But you’re fine kissing them?”

“No, I mean, yes. Not them, you. I’m fine kissing you.” He raked his hand through his hair as if he didn’t mean what he said at all. As if he was frustrated with himself.

“You don’t need to kiss me because you feel sorry for me,” I said.

“You think I just go around kissing girls I feel sorry for?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Good, because girls don’t like that. Me included.”

“I don’t feel sorry for you.”

I groaned at the sky. “Of course you do.”

He closed the space that I’d created between us, took my face in his hands, and kissed me. My breath seemed to be sucked from my body, and my lips stung. I shouldn’t have, but I answered back, grabbing on to his shoulders and pressing myself against him. Why did this have to feel so good? I pushed him away, panting for breath.

He lowered his voice. “Lacey, listen, I feel bad about what’s happening to you, but this is definitely not pity.”

“Isn’t it? Because that’s what it feels like. I feel like some problem you’re trying to solve.”

His jaw tightened. “I’m not an actor. I don’t kiss people unless I mean it.”

I gasped. “Well, at least when I kiss people for real, I don’t pretend like it meant nothing.”

He looked up as though trying to piece together the meaning of those words. I was about to turn and walk away when he said, “My sister? Is this about what I said to my sister?”

“No . . . maybe.”

“My sister is your biggest fan. She’d mean well, but she’d post it all over online if her brother was dating Lacey Barnes. I didn’t think you needed that complication right now. And besides, I didn’t hear you rush to tell her there was something between us either.”

“I was about to.”

He went still. “You were?”

All the anger and irritation I felt seemed to seep out of my body. I leaned into him, putting my forehead against his chest. His hands moved up and down my back. “I’m sorry,” I said.

“For what?”

“You’re right. I’m not okay. I’m a mess right now. Maybe it isn’t a good time to start . . . whatever this is. There’s too much negativity.”

He nodded. “I understand. I don’t want to be another complication in your life right now.”

“You aren’t. You won’t be. I just need to sort everything out.”

He wrapped me up in his arms, holding me. I could feel the pulse in his neck against my temple.

“Will you kiss my forehead again?” I asked.

He chuckled a little. “Are you mocking me?”

“Not at all.”

He pressed his lips to my forehead and I closed my eyes. There was something so sweet about this gesture. Something beyond passion, beyond lust, it felt like he cared, like he truly cared.

He pulled back, and I met his eyes. “Thank you for today. You made it bearable.” With that, I got in my car and left to face my dad.