Untangling The Stars (15 page)

“So….” Guy propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her.
God he looks like one of those Roman statues toppled over and fell into bed with me
. It was incredible how she could still see the exact blue of his eyes in a nearly lightless room. “What do we do now, Ms. Foxglove?” He had a suggestive look about him.

“Now? Well, if you’re hungry we could scrounge up some breakfast, or we could do this again.”

He smiled forgivingly at her obvious misunderstanding. “Both of those sound good, but what I really meant was more about the ‘we’ part—what do ‘we’”—he managed to do air quotes with both hands still around her body—“do now?”

“Oh…. I don't know.”

“You don’t know, or you don’t want to share what you’re thinking?”

Andie’s pulse jumped from zero to sixty in three breaths. He never failed to surprise her. She inhaled bravery, and said, “Actually, I was just thinking that was the exact question that I wasn’t supposed to ask.”

“Not supposed to ask, not supposed to ask.” Guy chased the words with his lips over her brow and down the nape of her neck onto her collarbone.

“I thought it was bad form for the girl to ask that question after sex.”
There, I said it.

Guy stopped kissing just as his lips were starting to brush against the tops of her breasts. He kept his lips on her skin and rolled his eyes up to hers. “That’s why I asked.”

“Well—” She tried to ignore the feeling of his mouth on her body. “—I guess you’ll eventually go back home, right? Why are you in Denver anyway?”

He ignored both of her questions and settled back beside her, a petulant tone creeping into his voice. “And here I was the one wondering if I would ever see you again.”

“Me?”

“You.”

Andie felt like she was living inside of some really self-serving daydream. Guy Wilder could have any girl he wanted, and most of them probably wouldn’t put him through a few days in the ringer first. Sure, everyone liked a bit of spark, but eventually someone was going to get burned. She was beyond feeling like some kind of fan-girl floozy or conquest, but still. She couldn’t really believe Guy wanted to go all boyfriend/girlfriend on her. Clearly, she was so out of her league.

“Guy, I have to ask, why? Not that I don’t
want
you, because of course I do. But, what I don’t get is why you want anything to do with
me
?”

He shook his head. “Have I not already answered that question?”

“You did, it’s just…I feel like we’re from two different worlds. It doesn’t make sense.”

“We’re not as different as you think.”

Andie’s disbelieving laughter seemed to bathe Guy in another layer of shadow.

“Andie, I’m just a normal guy with an abnormal job. Don’t get tricked into believing anything more. I’m from Sitka, Alaska. I grew up fishing and working on cars. When I was a teenager, I thought going to Hollywood and peddling my looks around would bring some meaning to my life. All it’s done is take it away.”

He pulled his arm out from under her, and cupped her face in his hands. “You bring that meaning back. Believe me when I say I want to keep you.”

“I get that. I do.” She did, or at least she thought she did. She’d been preaching on disillusionment for years, so even though she’d never experienced it firsthand, she could recognize the need for the separation between fiction and reality. Of course, talking the talk and walking the walk weren’t, as Andie was coming to learn firsthand, exactly the same thing. “But why
me
?”

“Because you knew who I was when I walked into your classroom, and you didn’t care.”

“I thought that pissed you off.”

“It did.”

Somehow, that made perfect sense.

“Okay. I believe you.” And she did.

“Good.”

CHAPTER TEN

Andie awoke to an empty bed and the smell of something sweet and doughy frying in the kitchen. She must have dozed off after all, but hell, she was existing on catnaps. A full eight hours would feel like heaven. The cracking sounds of food cooking in the next room brought her back to reality.
He’s still here
.
It wasn’t a dream.
It was true; Guy’s jeans were gone, but his white t-shirt and sunglasses were folded and sitting neatly on her bedside table. He might take off without the shirt, but there was no way he was going anywhere without his safety shields.

She rolled from the bed and snuck into the bathroom, took one look in the mirror, and started scrubbing. What was left of yesterday’s makeup—which hadn’t been much to begin with—was smudged across her eyes, and her hair looked like she was a close family relation to Albert Einstein. She washed her face clean and brushed her hair back into a messy ponytail. Without a shower, that was about as good as it was going to get.

She’d almost walked back out of the bathroom and into the kitchen before she realized that she was still wearing nothing but her birthday suit. Well, that simply would not do. Of course, Andie didn’t exactly have pajamas; she had special occasion lingerie, and she had what she referred to as “house clothes”—ripped up goofy t-shirts and the remains of sweatpants that had since been painted on, ripped up, or otherwise fallen completely apart. Impromptu sleepovers weren’t exactly her thing. They were always so terribly awkward—“Good morning, now please leave.” Not that that was how she felt about Guy still in her apartment. That was actually quite a fantastic surprise. She finally settled on a camisole and short set that featured a pair of gray and white cats, curled up together in the yin-yang symbol against a background of pale blue. Andie shrugged at herself in the mirror.
This is as real as it gets, baby.

***

Guy was in the kitchen, wearing nothing but his jeans—which were unbuttoned and hanging dangerously low. The way his hair was slicked back in uneven waves that were already started to fray loose and hang in his eyes, it looked like he’d rinsed his hands in water and run them through.
Maybe I should go back and switch into the lingerie
…

Her eyes ran down the backs of his legs, and she was thinking of everything else besides breakfast. When she got to his feet, she was surprised to see that the heels of his feet were extending several inches beyond the end of fluffy pink house slippers—
her
fluffy pink house slippers that were last year’s Christmas gift from Tandy. It was startling and hilariously cute at the same time. With his back to her, she could see every ripple of muscled flesh as he stood at the stove, flipping pancakes. This man was one hell of a juxtaposition. She laughed from the doorway, and looked at Guy through a square made with her thumbs and pointer fingers touched together.

“This has to be the best image I’ve ever woken up to.”

He laughed back, pointing a spatula threateningly at her as he turned in her direction. “No cameras please. This isn’t the first picture I want of us on social media. I can’t handle the fame of these slippers.”

“Social media?” she purred, as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face against the warm, tight skin of his back. “What’s social media?”

He laughed again. “Hey, I hope you don’t mind. I woke up hungry, scrounged around, and found pancake mix so I went for it. I hope you’re a breakfast girl.”

“How could I turn down half-naked surprise pancakes?”

“The pancakes are naked? Don’t tell them that!” Guy tsk-ed at her and swatted the spatula lightly against her hand.

She feigned a swatter injury, but as she clicked on the coffee pot, Andie couldn’t help but be pleased that Guy was a friendly morning person. She wasn’t exactly a morning person herself, but all that stood between her and perky was one cup of coffee and she was good to go. And she’d never turn down a home-cooked breakfast.

“So, are you back off to campus this morning for more professor-ing?” Guy scooped two pancakes onto a plate, handed it to her, and opened the refrigerator door to thumb through condiments. He plucked out a glass jar shaped like a maple leaf and set it on the counter by Andie’s plate.

Her taste buds rejoiced at her first bite. The man made a damned good pancake.

“Actually, it’s my day off,” she said between bites. “Wednesdays and weekends. But I have to meet up with the girls in a couple of hours to see how the gala is shaping up. We’re getting close. Barely three weeks away now.”
Plan, plan, plan—
Andie wondered what Tandy’s stress levels were like this morning. Aside from a few random texts, she hadn’t heard from the other girls since they’d last met. That normally meant everything was running smooth as butter.

“The gala—” Guy tapped the spatula absently against that delicious hollow spot where his shoulder met his chest. “The literacy event, right?”

“Right. We’re almost there. Just need to find a headliner.”

“Headliner?”

“Someone to basically get up on the stage and beg for money. But in the most gracious and diplomatic way, of course.”

“Well, of course.” Guy brought his plate and took a seat with Andie at the small wooden table in the breakfast nook of her kitchen. Luckily, it was mercifully free of the debris that was usually piled upon it—papers and books and other such things. She’d dumped all that the other day when she’d been forced to clean in order to keep her thoughts from piling up over her pending date with Guy. Stress cleaning at its best.

“No takers so far?”

“Not yet, but someone always turns up.”

“You’re not worried about it?” He sounded surprised.

Andie winked and lifted her glass at Guy. “I’m an optimist.”

***

When the pancakes were finished and the dishes washed, Guy took Andie in his arms and led her to the front door where he laced up his shoes and shrugged his jacket into place. “I hate to leave you, but I’ve got to get going. Calls to make, scripts to read. The show must go on. And you have a gala to plan. I could never keep you from such noble duties.” He winked at her, softening any potential sting of his good-natured jesting.

Andie didn’t make any effort to hide her pout. She stuck her lower lip out and groaned as she let her body sag in his arms. “But when will I see you again?” She touched the backside of her hand to her forehead as if she might faint. Her act was exaggerated, but genuine, and she hoped Guy caught on to her plight. It was better than asking it seriously. She had to save face somehow in the event his next words were, “Actually, hopefully never. Tootles.”

But Guy let her arch in his arms as he covered her with a swarm of kisses. “Oh, my dearest Alessandra, we shall be reunited before you have yet learned to miss me.” He’d added a thick southern accent, a la Rhett Butler, and put her own performance to shame.
Well, I guess that’s why he’s the one on TV.

Andie laughed and threw her arms around Guy’s neck, meeting his kisses as he pulled her up, up, up, till her toes were barely touching the floor.

“You’ll miss me?” he asked, setting her back down.

“Every minute.”

“Every minute,” he agreed. This time, his echo didn’t bother her.

The room felt noticeably empty as Andie shut the door behind him. Of course, it
was
emptier, but it wasn’t just his physical mass that was gone. It felt like a sweetness had been sucked out, and the air was stale and too thin.
Oh stop being dramatic, Foxglove. Life went on before Guy Wilder spent the night in your bed.

In
her
bed! All right! She had the place to herself and no one to judge her. She twirled lazily as she made her way to the shower, like she was Princess Aurora dancing in the forest surrounding the three fairies’ cabin, thinking of the man she’d met once upon a dream. It did feel like that. A dream. And a fast-moving one at that. You had to wake up from dreams, right? That was something Andie did not want to do, ever.
But
, she reminded herself as she stepped beneath the steamy hot water of her shower,
dreams aren’t meant to last.
That thought was a real bummer and Andie prayed it wasn’t a warning.

***

Andie dressed quickly. If she wouldn’t have had to meet the girls, she could have easily stayed in her house clothes all day. It felt like a staying-in and being-as-lazy-as-possible kind of day. Really, she wanted to wallow in her daydreams and lie in her bed and remember, over and over again, the romantic wonder that had been last night. But, like Guy had said,
the show must go on.
So, she compromised with herself. She’d go out, but she’d do it comfortably and she’d be home as fast as she could. She pulled on leggings and layers, then considered taming her long curls into something more manageable, but opted to leave them hanging messy and free down her back. A few swipes of her mascara wand and a dab of lip gloss and she was all set.

Armed with her bag on her shoulder and keys in hand, a knock on the door startled Andie right as she was readying to make her way out of it.
Who would be coming here? I’m not expecting anyone. Maybe Guy came back.
Writing off the last as wishful thinking, she took the knob in her hand and pulled the door open.