She could never fit into his world. She’d crumble under the pressure. He’d lose her before he ever had her, so he went back to his office and turned off the computer and lights. On his way past her desk, he noticed something sparkling under her desk.
A cell phone lay on the floor under her desk where her purse usually was. He picked it up and flipped it open. The display showed a field of flowers and her name.
He slid it into his pocket, knowing it was the wrong thing to do, but the crushing weight on his chest lifted as he opened Martin’s office again. This time to get Natalie’s address.
The ice cream box was almost empty by the time the movie was at the halfway point. Elizabeth was telling Chase’s character, Tom, how they were meant to be together, but Tom was blowing her off, even though he loved her. Usually Natalie didn’t require a tissue box and way too much Chunky Monkey ice cream to get through her favorite film. But with every close-up of Chase’s face, she helped herself to a huge bite of ice cream.
It didn’t help that she’d become way too familiar with his face. Seeing the expressions he’d given her on the television made her pulse pound and her heart ache.
She’d cleaned the kitchen with a vengeance first thing when she got home. Then she’d changed into her comfiest pair of jammies and popped on If Only. She hadn’t bothered with dinner, figuring she’d get enough calories from the ice cream.
Now tucked under her blanket, she began questioning her sanity for picking the movie she’d always loved in the past. It only served to remind her of Chase’s larger-than-life world. That, coupled with the magazine Rachel had left open to pictures of Chase and Alexis last weekend. Natalie wondered what else she could do to sink the dagger further into her heart.
She tried to find comfort by reminding herself she wouldn’t be able to handle watching him kiss other women onscreen if he were hers. She sighed. If he were hers… The words burned in her heart. A wish that could never come true, no matter how many stars she wished upon.
Besides, she wasn’t ready for a man in her life. She’d been down that road in college, and it had always ended up with her hurt and crying on Rachel’s shoulder. She needed to focus on her career and worry about guys later.
Chase flashed back on the screen.
She’d have to see him in the morning. She had to finish the work before Monday. He’d said he’d be there as early as she wanted. If she could get some sleep, she might be able to deal with him in the morning.
She didn’t move from the couch. She was wide awake, and though the movie made her sink further into misery, it was noise. She didn’t want to fantasize about emerald eyes that burned with desire and blond hair that would be silky to the touch. She didn’t want to run out to the store and find the cologne he used and wear it. She probably couldn’t afford it anyway.
She shut her eyes as his image came back on the screen.
“How do you know?” his character said to Elizabeth. “How can anyone know?” His voice trickled down her spine.
She opened her eyes to see him lift his hand and caress Elizabeth ’s face. She imagined Chase’s hand against her cheek. He didn’t kiss Elizabeth in this scene. The only kiss was the one at the end of the movie. Natalie couldn’t skip to the end. What made that kiss was the journey, the tangle of emotions that preceded it and made it the most beautiful kiss she’d ever seen.
A knock at the door startled her out of the movie. She hit Pause on the remote. Who would be knocking on the door at eleven on a Friday night? She grabbed the aluminum bat they kept near the door and opened the peephole.
The night was dark and rainy. Chase stood in front of her door, dripping wet. The bat slipped from her grip, and she yanked the door open.
“What are you doing here?”
His hair was plastered to his head. Rivers of rain flowed down his face and over his grin. “Can I drip on your floor?”
She nodded, still stunned by his appearance on her doorstep, and stepped back to let him in. She closed the door and locked it automatically. Leaning against the door, she stared at him.
He smiled down at her. “I don’t suppose I could use a towel?”
“Uh, yeah. Just a moment.” She walked around him into the bathroom. Her brain couldn’t wrap around the fact that Chase was in her home. It was almost as if she’d conjured him from the movie. She grabbed two towels and headed out to the hallway again. He’d removed his shoes and put them on the mat near the door.
She held the towels out at arm’s length for him.
“Pink. Nice.”
After he took them, she wrapped her arms around her middle, suddenly vulnerable in her own home. This wasn’t the office or a public restaurant, and she was in pajamas. She wondered if her overactive imagination had brought him here somehow.
He rubbed the towel over his head, leaving his hair sticking up. Feeling her fingers tingle, she wanted to run her hands over his hair and smooth it back down.
“Was there something you needed?” she bit out, having a hard time forgetting her fantasies of him, now that the reality of him stood before her. Her body throbbed with unfulfilled desire.
He shouldered off his jacket and hung it on the doorknob. His shirt wasn’t quite as wet so it didn’t cling to the muscles hiding underneath, but she’d already seen that part of the movie and knew how sleek and rippled his body was under that dark shirt.
After he dried off, he reached into a coat pocket and pulled out her cell phone. “I found this in the office.”
“You didn’t have to bring this to me. I could have gotten it tomorrow.” Wishing she’d brought the ice cream to the door with her, she reached out her hand for the phone.
When Chase lifted his gaze to hers, she inhaled. A thousand curses on the writer of If Only. A thousand curses on the director, who’d decided on those scenes. She’d seen that look before. The reason she watched If Only a million times was because of that look. But Chase was more than his performance, he was real and thoughtful and that scared her more than the desire racing through her.
“I should go.” He pressed the phone in her hand. His touch coursed through her, and he didn’t lift his hand from hers.
She couldn’t think as desire swelled within her. Nothing she’d experienced before compared to what Chase was making her feel. Her heart fluttered against the cage of her chest.
He closed the distance between them slightly. “I should go.” His voice low and his eyes hooded.
She nodded slightly, not trusting her voice, not really meaning it. She didn’t want him to go. His presence filled her vision. Her body shook with the need to be touched, but he was still holding back.
His hand slid off hers, leaving the phone in her palm. A heartbeat separated them. Much as she wanted to, Natalie couldn’t drop her gaze from his. Never would she imagine Chase Booker looking at her this way. Never could she imagine Chase Booker being in her apartment. She could imagine losing her heart to him.
Not because of the fabulous roles he played, but because of who he was. She didn’t see Tom from If Only in front of her. She saw the man who said he liked her smile. The man who picked up her glasses. The man who looked at her as if she were the only woman in the world.
She saw Chase. Her hand shook as she set the phone on the counter next to her. Risking everything for that look, she lifted her hand slowly. Her shaking fingertips traced the rough scruff along his chin.
His eyes sparked with her touch, but he didn’t close the last bit of distance between them. Her fingers wandered up into his slightly damp hair. She rubbed the strands between her fingers. So soft.
“Natalie.”
She pulled her gaze from his hair and met his eyes. She didn’t care why he was here, just that he was here. With her. Seeing her. Making her feel beautiful.