We are both silent.
“No one lucky enough to know you would ever forget you,” he says quietly.
I can see that he means every word, and I want to explain why it’s so important to me. It matters to me that he doesn’t think I’m just a fame-hungry person. I want to show him my mother’s picture on the wall and tell him about her. How she was making a name for herself. How she sang and danced even while pregnant with me. How she gave everything up after she had me, because she couldn’t bear to miss a moment of being my mother. How, by the time of her death when I was seven, everyone had forgotten that she used to be a performer. She was only Dennis McKay’s wife.
I don’t want to be known only as a part of someone else’s life. I want to tell him that, but it’s hard to put the words together.
“I could say the same about you,” I say instead. “No one could ever forget you.”
“I don’t care about acclaim or recognition.” His voice is low. “I’m already lucky to do what I do. Lucky to be alive. Lucky to have people who support me, even when I don’t deserve it.”
I don’t hide my puzzlement. “You’re talented, driven and hardworking. You deserve all the chances you’ve had.”
He looks like he’s trying to believe me, and in his eyes, I see that haunted look again. “Where’s this coming from,” I whisper.
He shrugs, then chuckles. “Nothing…nowhere. Ignore me. I have a lot of dark places in my mind.”
“Everyone has dark places in their minds.”
“I guess.”
When he remains silent, I return to my food, but after a few moments, I lift my gaze and find him looking at me.
“I’m made of a lot of dark places, Liz.”
Is he warning me away? I pull in a soft breath. “I don’t care.”
“You should.”
I shake my head. “I don’t. You’re talented, practically perfect…”
He scoffs. “You are young.”
My face reddens. “Not that young.”
“Liz…” There’s a note of caution in his voice.
I ignore it. “I’ve been attracted to you for a very long time, Aidan. You’d have to start being an even worse asshole to me than before to prevent me from falling any deeper.”
Abruptly, he rises to his feet, ignoring what I said. “Are you ready to leave? I’ll walk with you.”
No, I’m not. I want to stay here with him as long as possible. “Yeah, I…” I get up and meet his gaze. “I guess.”
One moment we were looking at each other, and the next, he lunges toward me. Almost desperately, I reach for him and then his mouth is on mine, hot, demanding, sweet… I wrap my hands around his neck and cling to him as his tongue plunges into my mouth. There’s nothing in the world I need more than his touch, with no inhibitions, no barriers.
His hands are around me, holding me pressed against his body as his tongue caresses mine. My skin is burning, my heart pounding. I’m wild with an insistent, undeniable desire. His lips trail down to my neck and I let out a soft moan.
He claims my lips again and as he kisses me, we both fall back on the sofa. His body covers mine, his hands setting fire to my skin.
“You’re perfect,” he whispers, holding my gaze before placing a soft kiss on my shoulder.
“You are perfect,” I reply. My body is tingling all over from his touch and I want more. He kisses me again, his tongue teasing mine, then he lifts my top, one hand splaying over my belly.
His fingers create a tingling path on my skin. How have I lived for so long without his touch, without his kisses?
He slides his hand into the waistband of my tights, still kissing me as his fingers reach between my legs.
“I want to watch you come,” he whispers. His hypnotic eyes are fixed on mine. His voice, his words, send hot tendrils of lust coursing between my thighs.