It wasn’t lost on her that she’d spent her entire adult life running from the trailer she grew up in and now the trailer was her favorite place to be. Ironic and absolutely fine.
And through all their time together—through every shared shower and lunchtime delight—Seth’s word had clung to her. Loved. She wanted to be loved.
It wasn’t untrue—in fact, it was maybe the truest thing anyone had ever said about her.
But there was so much that was left unsaid, questions that Seth’s comment had sparked. Was he saying he loved her? Or that he could love her? Or that he wanted to do the action of loving, which didn’t necessarily mean the feeling of loving? Or did he simply mean he knew she wanted to be loved?
He hadn’t brought it up again, and she didn’t try to either. Mostly because before she could address it, she’d have to figure out what she wanted him to mean. More than that, she’d have to figure out how she felt about him.
And that was a mystery she hadn’t yet solved. Not entirely.
She felt things for him, things that weren’t just sexual. She’d gotten past his lack of status and he no longer reminded her of her own history. And the rough sex—she was getting used to that too. Craved it, in fact. Couldn’t wait to be manhandled and played with, even when they’d just gone at it.
But there was still something that held her back from saying the “L” word. She suspected that something had to do with how she felt about herself. How could she love another person when she couldn’t love herself? It was a familiar notion, trite even, but that didn’t keep it from holding weight. Before she could move on with Seth, she’d have to let go. The surprising thing—the amazing, wonderful, magical thing—was that for the first time ever, Seth made her feel like she could let go. Truly and completely.
She was ready.
And her next-day interview with Jenna was the perfect opportunity to both let go and move on. It was time.
But first, she had to get her brave on and ask Seth the question she’d been avoiding.
After one last sweet sweep of his lips with her tongue, Heather put her hands on his shoulders and pushed back. She took a moment to gaze at him, struck not for the first time by how good-looking he was. She reached for his face and rubbed her thumb across his jaw, scruffy from the long day.
He covered her hand with his. “What’s going on in that pretty head? I can hear the wheels turning.”
She brushed her teeth across her lip. “I was just trying to figure out what we’re doing.”
“Well, you were learning to drive, and I was teaching you. Which wasn’t going so hot. Now we’re making out. And that’s going real hot.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She laughed. “I meant, what are we doing?” Her voice lost its volume, not of her own accord. “You and me. Together.”
“Oh. Yeah. I wondered when this conversation would come up.” His eyes remained on hers, which was both reassuring and unnerving.
She grabbed a handful of his shirt in each fist, needing a place to channel her nervousness. “It might have come up sooner, but usually another thing comes up and talking gets postponed.”
“That other thing is threatening to come up now too.”
Heather followed his eyes down to his crotch, where she already felt movement.
“Down boy, down,” he said.
“Soon, I promise.” Though she was tempted to forget the talking this time too. Seth’s dick was quite a distraction.
Peeling her eyes and her mind away from his growing erection, Heather returned her stare to his face. “So? Thoughts?”
Seth sank into the seat and moved his hands to run them up and down her bare thighs. When he spoke, it was slowly and with caution. “I think we’re more than just sex. Don’t you?”
In contrast, her response was quick. “Yep. Definitely.” Her eyes flicked back to his stiffy. “Though the sex is really, really awesome.”
“Yes. It is.”
“But there is more to us.” She bit her lip again. “Right?”
“I let you drive my truck. Nobody drives my truck. No matter how good they are in bed.”
“That does imply a certain level of fondness for me.” His hands on her thighs…they were doing crazy things to her. She had to regroup or the conversation would be lost in physical connection. “So then what are we?”
His hands paused. “Are you asking if I’m your boyfriend?”
“Actually, I was asking if I’m your girlfriend.”
He cocked his head. “I’d like to think you are.” He cleared his throat. “I do think you are. I have for a while. But I know that you’re wary about these things. I don’t take what you’ve already given me for granted.”
I do think you are. It was hard to concentrate on everything he’d said after that; she was so giddy by his simple declaration. What had he said? Something about taking it slow for her? “I appreciate that. That you’ve put up with my need to go slow.” Wary, he’d said. “And I am wary. Because of what the media will turn it in to. What they’ll say about us. But lately, I don’t really give a shit. They could say whatever they want about me and you—it doesn’t matter. And I…enjoy you so much, I want to tell everyone.” The words tumbled out. She couldn’t have stopped them if she’d wanted to, and she didn’t want to.
His brows rose, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he’d stiffened. “You want to go public about us?”
He wasn’t ready. She’d thought he would be just because she was, but maybe she’d misjudged. “I was thinking maybe. Yeah. In my interview with Jenna Markham tomorrow. Maybe that’s stupid? I’m sorry, I guess I assumed that you would want that, but I don’t want to—”
He cut her off with a finger to her lips. “Heather. Stop it. I didn’t say no.”
“So what do you think?”
His hand trailed down her throat, caressing her skin. “I could think of worse things than being paired with a beautiful and talented movie star.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding, elated by his response, yet still mindful of what she was asking. “You can’t take this lightly. This would be huge.”
“I know.”
“The press can be really uncool. They seriously encroach upon your life.”
“I get it. I’ve thought about it already.”