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She blinks and stiffens. “What?”
“You can laugh.”
Storm clouds darken her expression. “Funny.”
“No, seriously. You sparkle when you laugh.”
In the few days we’ve been together, I can’t remember a time when she did laugh. Not even with Fallon. It’s a shame. She has a great laugh and what it does to her whole demeanor…wow.
Surprisingly, she does it again, but this time it’s more a girlish giggle though cut short by the press of her lips. It’s almost as if she remembers herself, that she isn’t allowed to have fun.
“So what you’re saying is, I’m catfishing my best friend?” She’s going along with my stupidity and I love it.
“That’s your word, not mine.” I push into her side to emphasize my words. “I’m not implying you mean any harm if you were to do such a thing. And just so Fallon doesn’t think you’d do that, I think we should take a picture together.”
“Hmmm.” She arches a brow thoughtfully. “I find it hilarious how you’ve somehow rewritten history. You and Fallon have met. Or maybe you’re choosing to conveniently forget that little fact.”
I nod and once more angle my head close to hers. “Whatever you think is best.”
She giggles and angles away, again. “Hang on a sec. You mentioned the photo was of ahotguy. Who exactly are you talking about?” Trouble of another kind twinkles in her gaze.
“Ha. Now look who’s being hilarious.” Before she can get away or who knows what, I squeeze her side and close the sliver of space between us.
We’re cheek to cheek. She’s floral and fruity, soft and warm. Damn, she fits perfectly by my side.
“Come on. Take the picture,” she grumbles, her voice a touch breathy.
Does she feel it too? The current of electricity buzzing between us.
I snap a few pictures with my phone, and when done, I keep my hold on her and bring the phone closer for us to look at the shots.
We look great together, and she’s smiling, glowing even. We both stand like that, almost as one, for a beat or two, and before she breaks this connection, I grapple for something to say.
“Okay, so if you wouldn’t use the word hot, how about sexy or devilishly handsome?”
She giggles some more, and I could seriously listen to her laugh all day. Something tells me this is Leighton unfiltered. Carefree. She’s refreshing and more beautiful than ever.
“Cocky much?” She lightly elbows me in the ribs.
“No. Confident.” I tighten my grasp, liking her where she is far too much. “Okay, if you wouldn’t use any of those words to describe me, what would you say then?”
Suddenly, she fidgets in my arms. All flustered, blushing, and grinning, and the look is adorable as fuck on her.
Then she rolls her eyes but softens the exasperation with a broad smile. “Just a guy.”
“I’m ‘just a guy’?” I’m not offended but pretend to be as she nods emphatically. “I see.”
“I don’t mean it as an insult. I’m just a girl and you’re just a guy. You and me.”
“True. I suppose when you say it like that, it could be a compliment.”
Shaking her head, her expression sobers and my heart somersaults, hoping I haven’t messed this up. I’m liking her without her barricade firmly intact.
“It isn’tnota compliment… What I mean is, you’re not famous or used to being the person everyone wants to know. You’re an everyday person and yet…” She mashes her lips together and I can sense the wheels turning in her mind. Is she unsure of what to say or hesitant to say what she wants? “Tom, you’re bigger than life. Dazzling. A bright star.”
I’m caught off guard and kind of speechless at how she describes me. Open and real with her assessment, not because I believe it to be but because she does and she isn’t afraid to say so.
“I know it sounds silly, and I can’t think of a better way to say it.” Cheeks now crimson, she breaks eye contact and dips her head.
