Page 6

When it didn’t seem her laughter would subside, I glanced up to see Connor smiling. But the air of closeness we shared dissipated when a beautiful woman approached him and asked for an autograph. As she snuggled her chest against his arm, I realized my breathing had increased and there was a tingling in my fingers.

It was obvious I hadn’t recognized Connor, much less if his attraction leaned toward men, so I tamped down the unnecessary jealousy at seeing his smile directed at someone else and glanced at Gracie, while she wiped tears of mirth from her eyes.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

She didn’t answer before Connor reached us. “Why don’t we grab your bags and get you settled with Gracie?”

At Connor’s innocent statement, she gasped and clutched onto my forearm.

“I’m so, so sorry, Oliver. The city condemned my building and because I didn’t have anywhere to live, I took a job and will be on location for the next two months.”

My heart jolted as Connor pursed his lips and blew out a relieved whistle.

Shit, I shouldn’t be looking at his lips!

“What?” Gracie asked Connor.

As though we’d been friends for years, Connor reached an arm out and draped it around my shoulders. I locked down my muscles and chanted again and again in my imaginative brain that he wasn’t mine as I prevented the gigantic shiver that wanted to overtake my body.

“This is great! Mama’s going to be thrilled because now she gets to feed Ollie and baby him instead of me.”

Gracie’s eyes widened, but I couldn’t tell which surprised her more; him calling me Ollie, or the actual invitation to his home. Despite the tension coming from Gracie, the tightness in my chest relaxed, knowing Connor’s invitation was still on the table.

“Ollie?” She shook her head. “Never mind. I have a friend who needs a roommate. You can meet him tomorrow and when I get back, we can look for a place together.”

“No, he’s going to stay with me. We have plenty of room.”

Gracie turned to Connor and squinted. “Despite me trying to get him to watch TV and a movie once in a blue fucking moon, some of them I think he’ll enjoy, he’s not interested. Which makes him ignorant of our world. He prefers reading or watching video game play throughs.”

I scoffed. “It’s obvious he’s someone famous, an actor or a sports star… is that how you say it?” I waved my hand in a dismissive gesture. “He’s signed three autographs since we’ve been standing here. Anyway… oh, great, our bags are here. Which one is yours?”

“Cornflower blue hardshell.”

With a roll of my eyes at my protective friend, I left them behind knowing she’d needed to talk to Connor, and I joined the bodies hovering around the luggage carousel.

“First time in Los Angeles?”

Not realizing anyone was speaking to me, I turned my head and sucked in a breath as I spotted a man with perfect teeth and coiffed hair standing closer than necessary. Something about his smile creeped me out and when I spotted a blue suitcase, I said, “Yes, excuse me.”

I walked toward the end and plucked Connor’s bag from the spinning metal contraption, double-checking his information to verify I had the correct bag, before waiting for my own. A shiver passed over me, causing me to straighten to my full height, as the man I had no desire to speak to brushed his arm against mine. He held out a business card and said, “If you’re ever looking for work?—”

Gracie growled. “He’s not.”

An airport police officer grabbed the man’s arm. “I warned you about trolling here.” He yanked at the now snarling man away and I blinked my eyes at the contorted evil look on his face.

“I’ve seen him here, pretending to be a casting agent and promising work for the naïve. Then he’d trap them into work you don’t want to know about.”

Connor growled close to my ear. “That’s why he’s staying with me.”

I turned to my friend, and she shook her head, letting out an exasperated smile. Her next words released the ball of anxiety in my chest.

“I left my bag with a friend at the concourse since we’re leaving soon, but call me when you’re settled,” Gracie said.

“I don’t have a cell.”

“Professor Dee and Dumb?”

Unable to keep it inside, I laughed at the old nicknames for my parents, as she deemed them during our first year in high school. I nodded, and she pulled out a card with her cell number scribbled on the back.