“No.” A headshake. “But you’re the woman standing between these people and their irrational fantasies. I should have taken better precautions.”
My chest cinches with a pang of sorrow. I can’t imagine a life like this. Always hiding, always takingprecautionswhile doing simple things like going for a walk in the park. “Do you have any regrets?”
He frowns, staring down at his glass as he rests it on his knee. “A laundry list. Be more specific.”
“This life,” I say, lifting a hand to showcase his hard-earned gifts. “All this. Your career choices, your every move being watched and recorded.”
His jaw ticks. “Every day.”
The sorrow balloons inside my chest. “Do you ever—”
“Why aren’t you ticklish?”
I blink at him. “What?”
“You weren’t ticklish at the photo shoot. It’s weird.”
A breath of laughter falls out. “I don’t know. I just never have been.”
“Don’t know how that’s possible.”
“Why? Are you?”
Puckering his lips, he raises his glass and glances at me over the rim. “No. But you’re a girl. All girls are ticklish.”
“Clearly not.” I swirl the liquid in my glass. “What makes you think that? Are all your other girls ticklish?”
Another frown. “What other girls?”
“The models you’re always photographed with. Your hookups or whatever.”
A deep sigh leaves him as he takes a giant swig of whiskey. “Stop doing that. You make it sound like I’m some womanizing man-whore.”
I assumed he was. “I’m not judging. You’re gorgeous. If I had your face, I’dbe living it up too.” My neck burns, the alcohol already loosening my idiotic tongue. “I just mean—”
“Gorgeous,” he repeats, eyes slowly lifting to mine.
I pull away, slinking back into the couch. “It’s not like it’s a revelation or anything.”
“So you’re saying if you didn’t hate my guts, I’d be your type.”
“You’re everybody’s type, Lex. Even my father was hypnotized when you were shirtless on TV.” Then his other statement registers, and I swivel back to face him, my tone softening. “And I don’t hate you.”
“Mmm, my mistake. ‘Violently dislike’ was the exact verbiage.” Another pull of whiskey.
I swallow, chew on my cheek. “You’ve been upgraded to a mild dislike. Congratulations.”
“Where do I tap out? Slightly bearable?”
Shrugging, I take a small sip to hide the grin. “Neutral indifference, maybe.”
“I’ll add it to the vision board.” He stares into his glass, eyes slanting. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
I go still, unprepared for the request.
So much.
So many things.
