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“You’re not sure you trust me.” He finished the thought for her.
“Something like that.”
“I’m used to keeping things to myself. I’ve never leaked a juicy detail in my life. Reporters hate me.”
She shot him a cautious glance. “So you won’t tell anyone?”
“It’s no one’s fucking business. Of course not. Want me to sign an NDA? We could also negotiate some kind of pinkie promise.”
That made her laugh, and she tucked her hair behind her ears. “Don’t be silly.”
“Let me ask you this. Did you enjoy what we just did on the couch? When I made you come?”
“Of course I did. It’s not like I’ve never done anything sexual before. I’ve had orgasms.”
“With a man?”
“Why does that matter?” Her face was turning a nearly neon shade of pink. “Anyway, let’s back up a minute here. When I told you, your head just about exploded. Are you sure you want this to go any further? I bet virgins aren’t your usual style.”
He took a step back at that. She was right, it had been a shock. His first impulse had been to reassure her. But that was just one side of the equation. “You’re right. The last time I was with a virgin was in middle school. We started early where I grew up,” he added when her eyes widened.
“How early?” Apparently she’d forgotten all about her shower and her meeting. She made no move toward the bathroom.
“I was thirteen. Some of my friends were twelve. I’m not saying that’s a good thing, it just was what it was.” He shrugged, thinking of the chaotic times he’d survived during his childhood. No wonder he loved law and order.
“I was thirteen when I first got booked for a fashion shoot.” Her gray eyes went dreamy as she remembered. “It was for underwear. I was posing with a boy model on top of a parking garage, where you could see the whole skyline as a backdrop. He offered me weed in the stairwell during breaks. We got high and then he put his hand on my boob. Then between my legs. My mother was looking for me, and she burst through the door just then. She dragged me away and lectured me about putting a proper value on myself. She wanted me to hold out for someone more powerful than a mere male model. After that I decided that having sex with anyone in the fashion industry wasn’t worth it.”
And he thought his childhood had been complicated. Well, it was—just in a different way. “What about people outside the industry?”
“See, that’s the thing. Even if they’re not in fashion, they’re affected by the fact that I am. Being someone recognizable changes everything. It’s impossible to know if someone is really interested in me or if I’m some kind of trophy to them.” She went quiet for a long moment. “It was so confusing, and I wished I could talk to someone about it. Like Carly. She probably could have helped, being a famous person’s kid. But it was easier to just pretend I had this fabulous life and didn’t need anyone.”
She finished on a forlorn note that tugged at his heart.
But in the next moment, she summoned her usual sunshiny smile. “And there you have it, the tragic tale of Bliss the virgin. Or the madcap adventures of Bliss the virgin, depending on how you look at it.” She checked her phone again. “And now I really have to get into gear. I’m sorry I dragged you into all this.”
“I wasn’t exactly kicking and screaming,” he pointed out mildly.
She disappeared into the bathroom and a second later he heard the sound of the shower. He touched himself. He knew what he’d be doing after she was done in there.
Thirteen
The wedding whirlwind took over, and Bliss saw very little of Granger over the next couple of days. It was just as well. That encounter had been beyond awkward. What had she been thinking, coming on to him like that? He was a virtual stranger!
Sure, he didn’t seem like a stranger. When she was with him, it felt as if she knew him on a core level, and vice versa. As if they shared an automatic mutual understanding that she couldn’t explain away. The odd coincidence that they’d met when they were kids didn’t account for it. Maybe it was that they were sharing a hotel suite?
She was so preoccupied by the situation that Carly, even in the midst of her busy-ness, noticed.
Bliss was experimenting with hair styles, trying to nail down the perfect elegant-but-casual style for the wedding. She was trying out a version of a French twist that a stylist had given her for a jewelry ad, and got so lost in thoughts of Granger that she couldn’t stop adding hairpins.
“Bliss?” Carly finally spoke up, her green eyes filled with puzzlement as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror of the upstairs bathroom. “Is it supposed to look like I have a metal plate on the side of my head?”
“Oh my gosh, of course not. I’m so sorry. I don’t know where my mind is. Flaky Bliss, am I right?” She laughed at herself as she plucked hairpins from Carly’s thick chestnut hair.
“I wouldn’t put it that way. It seems like there’s something on your mind.” Carly raised her eyebrows at Bliss’ reflection. “Anything you want to share with your sister?”
“It’s nothing,” Bliss said automatically. “You’ve got enough to think about. Do you like the twist, if I take out most of the hairpins?”
“Forget the twist. What’s going on, seriously?” Carly spun around on the stool they’d brought up from the den. “And I’m not going to let you get away with your usual tricks.”
