The note had changed everything.
But barging in with questions wasn’t the way to approach a woman like Lily. One wrong word and she’d snap shut like a clamshell. He needed a delicate touch. A reason for her to trust him.
Truth be told, he hadn’t heard about the breakup until now. Did it make him a terrible person for feeling more than a little happy that she was no longer with Mr. Butt Chin? Probably.
More than probably.
“Exactly how much of that did you hear?” she asked warily as he slid into the seat beside her.
“Enough to know you broke up with your boyfriend for a myriad of large and small reasons.” He tried to stifle a smirk, but his lip twitched in rebellion.
“Amazing.” She nodded, her lips pressed into a flat line. “This day is going swimmingly.”
“Any guy who breaks up with you needs to get his head checked.” Sean stashed his bag under the seat in front of him. “You’re a catch.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious.” He turned to her. “You’re gorgeous, talented, creative. What more could a guy want?”
“His career,” she replied dryly. “Apparently, I was a publicity stunt first and a human second.”
Sean’s mouth popped open. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” She sighed. “Look it up on YouTube. Last I checked, the moment my faith in humanity officially died has almost three million views. But that’s what I get for dating a man who believes his needs supersede everything and everyone around him.”
“The name Brock should have been a dead giveaway.” Sean screwed up his nose. He didn’t really have anything against the name, but he couldn’t think of how else to make her feel better. “I mean, it’s not Chad but… it’s close.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Lily’s lip, but she stared straight ahead.
“And I was told once that you should never trust a guy with a butt chin,” he added. “It’s basically law.”
“You’re just trying to cheer me up,” she said, glancing at him.
“I am.”
“Why?” There was a palpable wariness to her.
“We’re old mates, aren’t we?” Okay, so maybe that was a stretch.
“You used to pull my pigtails and call me a nerd,” she pointed out. “That hardly makes us friends.”
“I was jealous,” he admitted.
“Of the pigtails or my being a nerd?”
“Both.”
“I can see why.” She nodded. “For what it’s worth, you’d look good with pigtails.”
“I know,” he replied with mock solemnity.
There was a lightness in her expression for a moment, but then it leeched out of her again as if she felt exposed and needed to duck back behind her walls. He couldn’t stand seeing her like that. She’d left Australia for bigger and brighter things without so much as a backward glance, and there hadn’t been a single doubt in his mind that she would find success wherever she went. He shouldn’t want to reassure her.
But he did.
It’s none of your business. You’re just using her as a distraction from your own issues.
Maybe that was true. He had two best friends—one was getting married this coming weekend, and his little sister was engaged to the other. Even his father was dating again after more than a decade of being divorced.
To make matters worse, his sister had gotten it into her head that Sean needed a girlfriend and was doing her best to be his personal matchmaker. Without his agreement, mind you. He was already dreading the wedding because she’d been dropping hints all week about one guest that was “totally his type.”
Not likely.
Just because everyone in Sean’s orbit was coupling up and settling down didn’t mean that he had to chase that life. Dreams and commitment were dangerous. Sean preferred a life without those kinds of pressures, frankly. Easy breezy, that was his approach. Nothing more to worry about than what time to go surfing.
“Thanks,” she said after a pause, dragging her gaze away. “For trying to cheer me up, I mean.”
“Did it work?”
“For a moment there… yeah, it did.”
“Seriously, it’s his loss.” Sean reached out and placed a hand on Lily’s knee. Her eyes snapped up to his and there was something fiery simmering in their depths.
The way she looked at him… Lord. Those warm brown eyes could swallow a man whole. He pulled his hand back, surprised that he was so affected by touching her. Or rather, surprised that he was still so affected by touching her. Because he’d done it once before—his hands on her hips, lips brushing hers, breath puffing over one another’s cheeks.
The first kiss.
It was a staple in every one of her films—always starting with the couple slowly leaning in as if drawn by a magnetic force. He’d often wondered if their kiss had been the inspiration for that signature scene. The delicious anticipation, the dimness of twilight as they’d stood on her doorstep, the scent of her vanilla lip balm.
“Welcome to American Airlines flight 9243 to Boston.” A voice crackled over the plane’s speakers, and the moment between him and Lily was shattered. She leaned away from him and flipped a book open to a page where she’d used a receipt as a bookmark. “We’ll be on our way shortly…”
Sean zoned out the information about the flight as he watched Lily from the corner of his eye. She stared at the page in front of her, eyes unmoving. That haunted look was back, and every cell in his body screamed out with the urge to touch her. To comfort her.
Stop playing with fire.
Unfortunately for Sean, when it came to Lily Dunn, no amount of logic or rational thought seemed to stop him dancing his fingers right over the top of an open flame.
3
An hour into the flight, no less than four people had stopped at row nine to ask Lily about her relationship—and breakup—with Brock Silvers. Sean was stunned. The gall of people, thinking they could pry into her personal life, like she simply existed for their entertainment and wasn’t actually a human being with feelings of her own.
Eventually she excused herself to go to the bathroom, and she stayed in there long enough that Sean knew she was hiding out. But on a small plane, one can’t hog the bathroom forever, and when she returned, she slipped silently back into her seat. There were dark hollows under her eyes, and her mouth had gravitated into a downward slope.
“Is it like this all the time?” he asked, frowning.
She huddled back into the corner of her seat, almost as if the wall might protect her. “Lately, yeah.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Her warm brown gaze slid over to him. “I can’t even go to my regular cafe to write anymore, because now they all know who I am, and I can’t work for more than a minute without someone interrupting me. It sucks. Their iced lattes were the best.”
They’d taken away the woman’s favourite coffee, too? Not cool.
“Can’t you tell them all to…” Sean caught a little kid watching them through the gap of the seats in front and decided to temper his language. “Scram?”