"I like you too, Andy," he says without hesitation.
My chest feels lighter, but my heart races faster.
"I like how honest you are," he continues, his voice warm. "I don't meet a lot of people who say what they actually think. Especially in this industry, you know? You're transparent. Different."
Transparent and different. If only he knew the thoughts I'm hiding.
I smile, setting my menu down on the table. "I like how you speak your mind too. But maybe you could work on your delivery. It's a little—"
"Direct?"
His smug expression makes me laugh. "Yeah, just a bit. I mean, the fist to your face in one of the screen tests didn't clue you in?"
We both laugh. When I look up, his eyes are still on mine, the moment lingering just a little too long. Flustered, my fingers find the paper napkin next to me, twisting it into a tight spiral. He has no idea what his attention does to me.
"How long have you been out here?" Vince asks, breaking the tension.
"Three months," I reply.
"Three months?" Vince leans forward, disbelief lighting up his face.
I laugh, the sound softer than I intend. "Yeah. It's not as bad as I expected, though. I get up, run, go to work, and a few times a week I do weights. Yoga classes fit in somewhere. Then I read, cook dinner, and crash. Rinse and repeat. Same things, different place."
He smirks, the corner of his mouth lifting in that infuriatingly attractive way. "Sounds riveting."
"It's better than Alaska, at least. The sun here is beautiful. When I first got here, I spent a whole week doing nothing but falling asleep on the beach. That's where I got this tan you made fun of the other day."
Vince laughs, leaning back.
"I haven't been back to the beach since we started filming, but honestly, I'm glad I took that week to just exist. The weather here is amazing. I can't get enough of it."
Once I get over the initial flutter of nerves, Vince is easy to talk to. He lets silence linger after my sentences, not rushing tofill the space. He isn't waiting for his turn to speak; he's actually listening.
I was never much of a talker, but around him, I can't seem to shut up.
He notices when my mind drifts, when my eyes unfocus for just a second. "That's not a bad routine, Andy, but it sounds really lonely."
He keeps calling me Andy. I realize he's stopped apologizing for it.
That's that, I suppose.
"Well, I'm dating too," I add, the words tasting like a confession in the charged air between us. "That makes my evenings a little different these days."
Vince's smile is faint, barely there, but it shifts something in his focus as his attention drifts back to the menu. I want his eyes on mine again, crave that intensity that makes my pulse quicken.
"So, are you seeing anyone right now?" he asks, his voice casual but his eyes still scanning the menu.
I smile, thinking of Gary's late-night coaching session over the phone. Excitement for this lunch has been building all morning, yet the truth is that a first date awaits me tonight.
"I've been messaging someone, because I've decided to give dating apps one last shot. I'm officially at the point where my romantic encounters could be categorized as either 'Developmentally Stuck at Twelve' or 'Definitely Belongs on a Watch List.' Four dates. Each one a special little slice of hell."
Vince laughs, the sound warm.
He leans back on the chair to flag down a waitress and captures someone's attention immediately, because of course he does. You can't ignore someone who looks like Vince when they smile and wave in your direction.
The waitress walks over, lost in the same lovesick daze I always enter when Vince grants me the same attention. Herfingers twitch around the pencil tucked behind her ear, a goofy, worshipful grin spreading across her face.
"Well, maybe fifth time's the charm," Vince remarks, leaning forward in his chair with an ease that makes the wood groan softly. "What's her name?"
