The Critic (21 page)

He sat next to me on his supple leather loveseat, which felt like warm butter. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

“No, thank you.” I needed to keep my mind clear. The wine I’d had earlier had landed me here.

We spoke in unison.

“Andi . . .”

“Bentley . . .”

He chuckled. “Ladies first.”

“Okay. I wanted to say that I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions tonight with Lyn. It’s just . . . when I saw her, all I could remember was being in your arms like that after you helped me.” I shrugged. “Just like when Lucy hugged you, I felt replaced and jealous. I’m so sorry.”

“Andi—”

“No, wait, I have more to say, and if I don’t get it out, it may stay trapped forever.” He smiled, and I continued. “I realized, when your arms were wrapped around Lucy, that I don’t know you very well, and it made me wonder, how I can feel the way I do about someone I don’t really know?” I lowered my head. “I may have overreacted when Lucy thanked you for helping her. After talking to Brett, I realized that I was very wrong about you and her.” I exhaled, needing to say more. “Apparently, I jump to conclusions when it comes to you, and that isn’t very fair. I hope you accept my apology.”

“I believed in you, Andi, and yes, you’re forgiven.” His palm went to my cheek, raising my head. “All I ever wanted for you was success. I’ve always thought you had talent, and when we worked together, I finally felt it. This is my fault too. I should’ve told you, but I really didn’t think it mattered. I don’t have a relationship with Lucy. I met her at a workshop the theater guild sponsored, and she mentioned a coach she wanted to work with but couldn’t get a hold of. He’s a friend of mine, so I put in a good word for her, that’s all. I’m sorry for hurting you; it’s the last thing I wanted to do.” His eyes remained fixed on me, waiting for me to understand his intentions.

He pulled me into his arms and held my head against his broad chest. His heartbeat was steady, and I could feel it in my own body.

“I fell for you. Hard,” he said. “I feel as if I’ve known you for years. I’m not going to lie, I got hurt when you judged me, and more than that, I’ve missed you over the past couple weeks.” His embrace became tighter as the sting from his words coursed through me.

“I need you, Bentley. I haven’t really needed anyone in a long time, and it scares me. I pride myself on being on my own and working my ass off, and when I let you in, I wasn’t alone anymore. I loved that. But then I felt as if you weren’t only with me. Can you understand that?” I pulled back to look at him.

“I can and do understand. All I wanted was the best for you. Maybe that’s why my reviews were hypercritical. Watching you flourish is all I’ve ever wanted. Well, until I gave you my heart. Then all I wanted was all of you.” His arms relaxed as his hands cupped my face. “We haven’t known each other a long time, but how about we change that? You’ve told me about your parents and your dreams. Maybe I should tell you about mine.”

Bentley’s voice was so sincere I wanted to crawl back into his arms, but I didn’t. I curled my legs under me as I agreed to get to know each other.

He wove his fingers in mine and stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. “My family is the most important thing to me. I’d do anything for them. When I was growing up, my mom took me to shows all over, and that started my love for the theater. I’d envy the actors standing on a stage, bringing characters to life. There’s nothing better than feeling what they are at the exact moment you’re supposed to. It transported me in a way that made me want to tell the world, or at least other New Yorkers, about it, so when I was old enough, I started sending reviews to different publications in hopes they’d print one. Then it happened. I saw my name on a byline, and my dream came true. So when you told me about your dream about having your name in lights, I got it.”

“What about your dad?”

He chuckled. “My dad’s a doctor. He wasn’t home much, but his job was why my mom had time to take me and Brett to the theater. My brother didn’t catch on to it like I did though. I think he just liked going to ballets to see the women in tights.” Bentley shook his head and shrugged.

I laughed, picturing Brett going backstage to get the dancers’ names and numbers.

“But my dad always told me that if I worked hard, then nothing was impossible.” His voice was full of the same pride it had been before.

I smiled because hearing the way he’d turned his love for something into reality made me happy and feel encouraged. Hearing about how his parents supported him made me envious. “The support you grew up with is so wonderful. My parents weren’t all bad. I didn’t want for anything growing up. I didn’t want anything but Julliard, and that’s the one thing they didn’t give me. I suppose it wasn’t theirs to give, but their support would’ve been nice.” I shrugged. “Maybe it’s all for the best, and it happened for a reason.”

“What reason?”

His eyes met mine, and I was drowned in them. “You. I wouldn’t have met you. If I’d gone to Julliard, who knows what shows I would’ve been in? Who even knows if I’d be here right now? So maybe by my parents forcing me to go it alone, they made me fight harder and go after a critic who pissed me off.” My lips quirked, trying to contain a smile.

The roar that Bentley let out made me laugh too. “I pissed you off, huh?”

I grinned. “Yeah, you know you did. But think about it, if you’d written wonderful things about me, I wouldn’t have tracked you down to tell you off.”

“About that . . . you lied to my assistant.” His eyes narrowed, and his lips twisted.

“I did.”

“My doctor’s office? Really?” He shook his head with a soft chuckle.

“Well, I needed to come up with something, and that seemed plausible.”

“And she told you where I was?”

My eyes went wide, and I shook my head. “Oh, please don’t be mad at her. It slipped out. She wouldn’t give me your phone number or anything. I tried my hardest to get it out of her, and she didn’t budge.” The last thing I needed was to be responsible for him firing her.

“Don’t you worry about Vanessa. I may have to send her flowers for the slip-up.” He beamed, making me care for him more than I already had.

I brought my hand to my chest and exhaled in relief. “Maybe I should send her a gift too.”

He leaned in and kissed me. “It’s getting late.”

It was. I had been hoping he wouldn’t notice because I loved this side of him, but he was right. My legs uncurled from beneath me. As I moved to get up, his hand touched my knee.

“Stay the night with me. I’ll go back with you in the morning.” His voice was sexy and warm at the same time, making me want to stay longer than one night.

“I need to be back in the city early tomorrow, and I don’t have clothes with me.” It dawned on me that he didn’t know about my new job—or did he? “I’m in a new production in the supporting role.”

His smile told me he knew. “I heard.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, Gina told me.”

“Gina? When did you talk to her?” I felt lines form on my forehead from my confusion.

Bentley’s lips curled up. “I ran into her at a coffee shop. She was pretty animated when she saw me. Then she told me to fuck off because you didn’t need my help anymore.”

I laughed and nodded. I found it odd that she hadn’t told me about it, but I was sure she had her reasons. “Sorry about that. She’s my best friend and was probably just protecting me.”

“I get it, and I’m glad you have her.” He laced his fingers with mine.

The feeling of being connected with him sated me, but I needed to leave. “I should really get going.” I stood and slung my purse over my shoulder.

He quickly blocked my path with his body. “Please stay. We don’t have to have sex or even sleep in the same bed. I just want you here with me.”

My heart did a flip then a flop. Thoughts scurried through my head. Could I just stay and not totally jump him? Would my body forgive me for missing out on a fabulous orgasm? “Okay.” I’d make it up to my body another time. “I’ll stay, but I need to leave early tomorrow morning.”

The biggest smile spread across his flawless face. “Follow me, and I’ll get you something comfortable to sleep in.”

I followed him through his apartment and up the stairs to his very large bedroom. The rich wooden four-poster bed covered in a gorgeous deep plum comforter looked beyond inviting. His room was understated, opulent, and masculine. I saw writing awards on his dresser, pictures of famous news articles, and a stack of theater programs piled in a wicker basket.

“Wow, great room!” My words came out louder than I’d intended.

“Thanks. Let me grab you a T-shirt and sweats. Then I’ll get out of here.” He pointed toward a closed door. “That’s the bathroom. You should find everything you need in there, including a new toothbrush in the top right hand drawer. Towels are under the vanity, and if you need anything else, just let me know.”

I took in everything he said, but it didn’t feel right. “Where are you going to sleep?”

“I’ll grab the couch.”

“No.” That came out before I’d thought about it, but right then, thinking wasn’t on my mind. His arms wrapped around me and my head on his chest while I slept was. “I want to be with you.”

“Andi . . .” His voice was laced with concern. “I don’t want to push you.”

“You said yourself that we didn’t have to have sex.” I placed my hand on his bicep, which twitched under my touch and did all sorts of things to my insides. “Please? I want you to hold me.”

“Well, if you put it that way, how can I say no?” He placed a soft kiss on my forehead.

“You can’t, so get changed, and I’ll be back.” I grabbed the clothes he’d pulled out for me and went into the bathroom.

I took off my clothes and folded them before I slid on his white T-shirt. I decided against the sweats and grabbed the new toothbrush, brushed my teeth, checked myself in the mirror, and headed back into the bedroom. He was already in bed with his arms behind his head, showcasing his strong shoulders and fabulous chest.

Wow.
I pulled back the covers and slid in next to him. As soon as my leg hit his, I wondered what he was wearing. I lowered my brows, studying the comforter as if I had x-ray vision.

“Boxers.” The smirk on his handsome face drove me all kinds of crazy. “And you aren’t wearing my sweat pants.”

All I could do was smile. I lay on my right side with my hands in the praying position under my cheek. Bentley slid his arm under the pillow as he rolled onto his side to face me.

“You really are beautiful.” He tucked my hair behind my ear, and his knuckles lingered on my jawline. His hand rested on my neck as his thumb teased my earlobe. “This is going to be harder than I thought.” His deep blue eyes penetrated mine. “All the times I saw you perform, I hoped we’d be here like this one day.”

“You did?” I whispered.

“Yeah. I’d watch you, and my chest felt as if it would burst as I waited for you to look in my direction and catch my eye, but you never did. Then, when I saw you in the diner, I panicked.”

“Well I didn’t know it was you when you walked in that diner, but I found it difficult to breathe too. Then you were gone.” I remembered that night. He’d been stunning.

“Even though I was desperate to talk to you, I knew what was coming the next day, and well, I punked out,” he said. “When you walked into Brookstone, my heart stopped, but when you started chastising me, I was so happy.”

“Happy? Why were you happy?”

“That fire that I knew was buried deep inside you surfaced. You’re special.” He inched closer and kissed my forehead. “I noticed something in you that day in the corner store.”

All I could do was smile. My lips itched to kiss him back, but if I did, I’d never stop. There wasn’t a square inch of him that was undesirable. “I still can’t believe that was you. How bizarre. Really, what are the chances?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll never forget it.”

“So, your brother.” My voice fell a bit. Something was up with Brett. I could tell he was hurting.

“Yeah?” Bentley’s fingers caressed my arm.

“He told me he was in a messed up situation.”

He brought my hand to his lips. “He is.” He squeezed my fingers

“What’s that all about?”

Bentley let out a deep sigh, and his face grew sad. “It really isn’t my story to tell. Let’s just say he should have thought with the head above his shoulders.”

“Oh.” I respected him for not telling me Brett’s story, but I wanted to know more about him. He truly admired Bentley, and I could see that it went both ways.

Bentley smiled as he kissed my knuckles before lacing our fingers together. “So have you talked to your parents? Did you tell them you’d made it to Broadway?”

“No. I thought about it, but then I got an e-mail from my mother saying that I should come home for a party at their club.” I shrugged. “That really isn’t my scene. I had one close friend there, and she hated it as much as I did. I can’t imagine she’d be there either, and I don’t want to see the rest of those people. I just don’t want to go and be asked a million questions about what I’ve been doing with my life.”