The Critic (11 page)

Brett nodded. Gina gave a quick wave, and we were on our way. We made it out to the crisp air, and I relished the feeling.

“Wow, Bentley’s super sweet,” she said.

I rolled my eyes. As much as I hated to admit it, there was no denying it. “Yeah, I know.”

We were just about to get in the car when I heard my name. I turned to see Bentley walking briskly in our direction. Gina got in her car, and I was left alone with him.

“Hey.” His breaths were short after he’d hurried across the paved lot.

“Yeah?”

“Is Chinese okay for dinner?”

The look on his face was different—hopeful maybe? He was definitely keeping me off-balance, and I wasn’t used to that.

“Yeah, sure, that’d be great. Thank you.”

“Perfect.” He turned to walk away but stopped and stalked back toward me.

I stepped backward until my ass hit the car door. With one hand on the door frame and one cupping the side of my neck, he brought his lips as close to mine as possible without touching them. His nose grazed my cheek, making my eyes flutter closed.

His warm breath caressed my lips as he whispered, “See you tonight.”

He left me against the cool metal, yet I was warm from the inside out. My attraction to him had become fierce, and I needed to figure out how to handle it. Once I got in the car, we headed toward my apartment.

Gina, who was a music fanatic, lowered the radio’s volume. “So what was that?”

“I think he just likes to drive me insane.” I laughed insincerely, hoping to stop her thoughts before they met mine.

“Hmmm. I think he just likes you . . . like a lot!”

“Is it wrong that I’m attracted to a man I hated just a few days ago?” I looked out the window at the green trees. “This is the last thing I wanted.”

“Yeah, I get that. Look, Andi, there isn’t anything wrong with liking him. He’s obviously into you. But you need to figure out where you want to go from here. I can’t do that for you.” Gina turned into my apartment complex.

“I know. Maybe I’ll see how tonight goes and take it from there.” I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Ya know, it figures that I’d fall for him. This is all kinds of wrong . . . right?”

“Does it feel wrong?” Gina put the car in park. “Look, things happen for a reason. You said yourself that he doesn’t review plays in Jersey, and he came here. Ask him why. I think knowing what his intentions are will make all the difference.”

“Yeah, maybe. Thanks, G.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek and opened my door.

“Hey, and find out if Brett is taken.”

I laughed. “Okay. But I did have plans for you and Seth.”

Gina shrugged. “Yeah, him too.”

She winked, and I shut the door. I watched her pull away before I went inside.

Mack had sent a text cancelling rehearsal for today, so I read for a couple of hours and then decided to take a bath before Bentley came over. I turned on the water, sprinkled in lavender bath salts, and settled in. I stared at the tiled wall, wondering why this was happening. Could I let him into my life? Did he even want to be there, or was this some way of proving a point?
Maybe I should talk to him.
I had way too many thoughts running through my head, and it hadn’t escaped me that my career wasn’t the first one. Bentley Chambers had taken over that spot in my brain, and that was a first. No one had ever come close to being my first thought, not even myself. I’d closed myself off while trying to perfect my craft, but now all I thought of was a dark-haired, perplexing man.

I lifted my leg to rub the now-soft water on it. As I watched iridescent bubbles roll toward my knee, I thought of Bentley and his fingers being there instead. How would they feel? Would they be as they had been when he’d caressed my cheek? Or like his soft lips? I shook my head. I needed to put things in perspective and get back to reality which was . . . I needed to get my shit together.

I stepped out of the tub, wrapped myself in a perfectly soft light blue towel, and applied lotion to my body. I was taking more time than normal getting ready. I was actually primping for a man—a man who had been the bane to my existence a few short days ago. I stared at my reflection and hoped that the woman looking back at me would have a revelation as to why my heart fluttered when I was near him.

Once I was dried and dressed, I grabbed a Diet Coke and sat on my sofa with the script. I read the section that I wanted to work on before I stood in my living room and recited the words in various ways. But each way sounded like the last. I felt as if they were just words, and they needed to be so much more. I shook my arms and feet to regroup. I closed my eyes and pictured Bentley, rather than Justin, playing the role of Jake, and I said the lines again. This time, my heart thumped wildly.

Jake, you have to know that I’d never forget you or forget how I wanted you, no matter how many years have passed. My life was incomplete until you. Seeing your face makes me want to live and breathe. You are my heart and my love.
I stretched out my hand to touch the invisible face in front of me.
Please stay this time. I can’t face heartbreak again; I won’t recover. I won’t want to.

Buzzing startled me. It was just after seven. I opened the door after clicking open the one outside. I knew it had to be Bentley, so I just stood in the doorway, waiting for him. As he took the corner to come to my apartment, I stared at him. He stopped dead in his tracks. His deep denim jeans rested perfectly on his hips, and his black T-shirt made my mouth water. The same bag was slung over his muscular shoulder. He was perfect.

“Hey there.” He lifted a brown paper bag. “I hope you’re hungry.” He grinned as he looked past me into the apartment.

I smiled and stepped aside to let him in. Was I hungry? My stomach growled, indicating that I was. “I suppose I could eat.”

Bentley chuckled. “All I’ve seen you eat is salad, so I bought a bit of everything.”

The thought of him taking note of what I’d eaten, even if it was just one meal, made my head cock to the side as if I were a puppy whose owner had asked him if he wanted a treat. I shook my head, getting back to the task at hand: saving my career without acting like a giddy fool.

“Would you like a beer or wine?” I asked.

“Beer would be great, thank you.”

He set the bag on the kitchen table while I snatched a beer for him and a glass of wine for me. Then I went to grab a couple plates and forks.

“Really, Andrea? Silverware? I have these.” He held out chopsticks.

“Um . . . I’m not that proficient at eating with skinny wooden sticks.”

He laughed as he removed several cartons from the bag. I sat at the table and watched him open them one by one.

“Okay.” He clapped then rubbed his hands together. “We have sesame chicken, kung pao shrimp, Mongolian beef, vegetable fried rice, white rice, pork lo mein, egg rolls, and of course, fortune cookies.” Bentley smiled and sat as I looked at all the food. “Please don’t tell me you’re a vegetarian.”

“No.” I smiled at him. “There’s just so much food here.”

He handed me chopsticks. “Yeah, and it’s all good stuff, so dig in.” Using his chopsticks, he masterfully scooped some fried rice onto his plate, along with a little of everything else. I grabbed my fork, and he shot me a look. “Always conventional, aren’t you?” He smirked and ate some chicken.

“That’s not true. I just don’t know how to use these.”

Why did he always make me feel as though he was testing me? To prove him wrong, I held the sticks while looking at the way he did it. I tried to grab a shrimp out of a carton, but it slid right off my chopsticks. I thought of using the stick as a spear, but that wouldn’t have worked either. I moved on to the chicken, hoping it would be easier to grab; it wasn’t.

“Seriously, this makes no sense.” I set the sticks down and reached for my fork.

His hand touched mine. “Here.”

Using his chopsticks, he held the piece of chicken I’d unsuccessfully tried to get to my mouth. He raised his brows, so I tentatively opened my mouth and let him place it on my tongue. I closed my lips around the sticks, and he pulled them out slowly. I moaned in delight, and his expression turned darker.

Bentley smiled. “It’s really good, right?”

I nodded and savored the morsel before swallowing. “Yeah, but at this rate, we’ll be here until morning.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me.” Bentley winked, making me blush. “Here, hold them like this.”

He set his down and positioned the sticks between my fingers. His hand was much larger than mine, and as I watched it, I pictured it on my body. The man was going to drive me insane. Once the chopsticks were in position, I stared at my hand, trying my best not to move so they wouldn’t slip.

“Now what?” I asked.

He laughed. “Well, now you need to move them. Think of them as an extension of your fingers or like an alligator’s mouth—like this.” His chopsticks moved effortlessly, the ends coming together in a tapping motion.

“Okay.” I pointed them into the box of chicken and tried to close them around a tiny morsel. “Aha! I got it!” I slowly pulled the sticks out of the box, and the chicken fell. My shoulders slumped. I glanced at Bentley and saw him watching me. My spine straightened, and I focused and tried again. I stifled a laugh as I imagined tiny air traffic controllers standing on my tongue, moving their miniature orange flashlights to guide the poor piece of food into my mouth. When it finally made it past my lips, I beamed and slowly chewed. I relished that chicken as if it were filet mignon. “Ha! I did it!”

Bentley nodded. “Very good. See, I knew you could do it.” He ate his rice, and I just stared at him. “Okay, rice is a tad more difficult, but I bet by the next time we have Chinese, you’ll be able to eat miso soup with these bad boys.”

“Really? Soup?” I shook my head, and we both laughed.

“Hey, I have confidence in you. I believe in you, and I think you can do anything you set your mind to.”

“You do?”

My tone made his brows draw together. “Of course I do. Don’t you?”

“I suppose so. I’ve just been questioning myself lately.” I smiled as I successfully picked up a shrimp.

His eyes met mine, and he smirked. “The shrimp is really good.”

“It’s all delicious. Thank you for bringing it over.” I used the sticks as a scoop for the rice.

He clicked the chopsticks together. “It’s even better using these.”

I giggled. “I suppose.” I continued enjoying my meal and, oddly, his company.

He pushed his plate aside and rubbed his stomach. I couldn’t help staring at the circles his hand was making.

“Andrea?”

“Yeah?” My voice trailed off, and I wondered if he had a six- or an eight-pack under that shirt.

All of a sudden, there was a hand waving in front of my face. “Earth to Andrea . . .”

My eyes sprang up to his. “I’m sorry, what?” Heat rose in my cheeks.

“I said, don’t you have confidence in yourself?”

“Oh. Yeah, I do when it comes to some things.” I needed to change the subject and alleviate my embarrassment. “What about you? Is there anything you can’t do?”

He looked toward the ceiling in thought then at me. “Nope. I can pretty much do it all.” His smile was brilliant and contagious. “Okay, Ms. Jordan, which fortune cookie do you want?”

His hand held two out to me, and I took the one closest to me. I opened the clear wrapper and looked at Bentley. “Aren’t you going to open yours?”

He picked his up, and we cracked them open at the same time.

I read mine and let out a sarcastic laugh. “Figures.” I shook my head and put the fortune down.

“Tsk tsk, you can’t do that. What does it say?” His eyes were playful and almost dancing, waiting for me to speak.

In a huff, I picked up the small piece of paper and read it. “‘In order to soar, you must learn how to fly.’” I looked at Bentley. “What does yours say?”

His expression was serious. He looked as if he agreed with my fortune or at least was pondering it. He cleared his throat. “Mine says, ‘Intuition will guide you to success.’” He smiled then shrugged.

“Of course it does. It’s perfect. Did you write them?” Honestly, what the hell?

“Come on, they are just prepackaged fortunes.” He winked, walked into the family room, and turned toward me. “You coming or what?”

“Yeah.” I tossed the fortune on the table and joined him on the couch.

Holy shit, I’d never think about chopsticks the same way. The image of her sliding her lips down them . . . I’ve never wanted to be two skinny sticks so much in my life.

“So tell me about Brett, other than that he lives in the city.” She smiled.

My heart clenched at the sight of her smile, but talking about my brother wasn’t what I had in mind. “Ahh . . . Brett. He’s my younger brother. I don’t get to see him too often.” I shrugged. “Our jobs keep us too busy. He’s the co-owner of a nightclub, The White Orchid. His best friend, Alex, owns it, but Brett and another guy bought in. Now they all co-share.”

“That’s cool. Does he have a girlfriend?”

I felt each of my facial muscles fall at her question. “You’re interested in Brett?” I shook my head. “Unreal. That guy is truly unreal. Even when we were kids, he’d get all the girls.”