Lori Wilde - It Happened in L.A. - Ms Match / Shockingly Sensual / Playmates

She felt something inside, another shift she hadn’t expected. She mattered to him. Everything he’d done since the party had shown her that, and yet she still found it unbelievable. “You did an extraordinarily good job.”

“I wasn’t…Thanks. The point is, I couldn’t tell you the last time my agenda wasn’t about winning. And I suppose I did win, but it was different. I felt fantastic last night. After I dropped you off, I went home. I read, watched a little TV, went to bed. I haven’t felt as good or slept as well in ages.”

“Wow. Maybe you should keep doing that.”

His grin was teasing and warm. “Taking you to Dodger games?”

She smiled back. “Stepping outside your comfort zone. Building a new social network.”

“I don’t know. It’s not easy.”

“I have to give it to you. You’re sure trying.”

“I am. It’s so unlike me. This isn’t the kind of thing I do. I’ve never had to. I was always part of whatever social group I wanted. All through school I had the right friends, I was in the right sports, the top fraternity. This is outside of my experience.”

“That’s what I don’t get. Why now?”

He shook his head, then his gaze caught hers. He stared at her for a long time, the expression on his face changing from confusion to something more intense and unsettling.

“What?” She broke the connection, suddenly uncomfortable with how he was making her feel.

“I think about you a lot.”

She had to put her mug down before it slipped from her fingers. “Me?”

“Yes, you. It would be a lot smoother of me to make something up, but I don’t want to do that. I’m not on sure ground here, so forgive me. I don’t think I’ve known anyone like you.”

“I’m not that unique.”

“I doubt it. Maybe the world is filled with people who are pragmatic and sensible and sure of themselves without having to win all the time. You love sports, but you don’t play games.”

Paul stood up and she could see the tension in his body. His shoulders were tight; he rubbed his hands together as he paced on her pale Berber carpet.

She felt badly for him. This had to be difficult, questioning the dream life he’d built for himself. “Do something, then. Who was it that said if you always do what you always did, you’ll always get what you always got?”

He stopped, came back to the couch, only this time he sat right next to her. His expression was expectant and the scent of him faint but familiar, reminding her of the night they’d slept together. “I am doing something. I’m here. I keep coming back to you. But I know you don’t want me.”

She looked at her hands. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Not that you said it out loud, but I know you don’t believe I’m someone worth knowing.”

“I…” That was exactly what she’d thought, but if she could do it again, she’d have responded differently.

He touched her, his hand warm on hers. It made her look at him again, to see the sincerity in his gaze. “Give me a chance.”

She had to swallow the lump in her throat. The unsteady beat of her heart. “I don’t know what that means.”

He leaned toward her, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath. For a second, she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, his words were quiet, humble. “I love horror movies. And playing softball. I’ve never been in a book club, but I’d give it a try. I want to be in your life. It’s crazy. I don’t get why. But you’re the key.”

PAUL COULD TELL he’d made her uncomfortable. He felt like a fool for talking like this, to a woman he hardly knew, but he was also sure that if he didn’t say it tonight, he’d convince himself that he was nuts. That all he needed was to get laid a whole lot more and think a whole lot less. He knew that, and something told him if he didn’t act, if he didn’t put himself on the line right now, he would be sorry. The type of sorry that doesn’t ease up with a drink or two.

It was one of the scariest things he’d ever done. Embarrassing as hell. There was nothing concrete he could point to as the cause or the reason. But it felt as real as it gets.

“I don’t know what to say.” Her gaze met his. “What I do know is that we’re from very different worlds. I don’t understand a lot about who you are. I admit it. I’ve probably assumed too much about you, and that’s not fair.”

“For instance?”

She shook her head.

“I can take it.”

After a moment when he thought she might tell him to forget it, she nodded once. “In my experience, people who are very attractive seem to live on a different planet. It’s earth, but it’s rarefied. I understand it, honestly.”

“Rarefied?”

She nodded, knowing she needed to find the right words. “We’re wired to admire beauty. It all goes back to the survival instinct and procreation, but that’s not the world I live in, either. I come from a family of exceptionally good-looking people and I’ve seen how things are easier for them. They got away with amazing things. Their choices were vast. And it gave them all an attitude of entitlement. Scratch the surface of any one of my darling brothers and sisters and you’ve pretty much reached the other side. There’s no there there.”

“Wow.” He exhaled heavily. “Okay,” he said. His gaze hadn’t wavered from her. “That’s not all, is it? There’s something that you don’t particularly want to say.”

He was right. Her theories were her own, but they’d been with her a long time, and dammit, he’d asked. “Mostly, I think what’s lacking is compassion. It’s not their fault. Compassion comes from pain. And while they’ve all had their ups and downs, not one of them has ever gone through hell and come out the other side, stronger for the experience.”

He wanted to tell her he’d been through hell plenty of times, but he hadn’t. She was right about having it easy. People had always seemed to want him to succeed. And for most of his life, that had been enough. More than enough. “I’m guilty of everything you said. I can see how you’d assume I wouldn’t be enough for you.”

She blinked at him and he was beginning to know that look. She was thinking about what he’d said, thinking deeply. “I’m not foolish enough to pretend that the lens I’ve looked through isn’t muddy. I’m no paragon, myself. I spent years and years living with jealousy and bitterness. It was hard being the ugly one.”

“You’re not—”

She stopped him. “We’re being honest here, remember?”

“Okay. I swear. I’m being honest. You don’t look like the rest of your family. But you’re not ugly.”

“Paul.”

“Hey. I don’t want to get sidetracked here, but dammit, I’m not lying to you. I’m the first to admit I’m shallow as hell, but even I can see how lovely your eyes are. How when you smile, your whole face lights up. I find you…arresting. But let’s get back to me while I’m still brave enough to ask. Do you believe I’m destined to be this shallow forever? Can you even consider that there might be more to me than you think there is?”

She didn’t answer, only this time, he didn’t see her telltale blinks. He felt a hopelessness that filled him with dread. This was ridiculous. He tried to get up, but her hand caught his and she held him steady.

“I think you can be anything you set your mind to.”

He looked at her again, trying to see beyond the words. Her eyes glistened, and her mouth quivered just a bit. This was new. Gwen wasn’t sentimental and she wasn’t shy about telling it like it was, which left him…

Confused.

“You’re not shallow,” she said. “I’m the one who misjudged. I never expected—”