He hadn’t given her a reason and she was waiting. “I don’t know why.”

Actually he did know why. He saw how his mistake affected her. How an easy little change in his blocking got her up in arms and made her pay attention to him. He knew she was getting heat for it, that he was messing with her in a way that was not only unprofessional, but also seriously shitty. But he couldn’t help himself. He craved her attention, and he’d take it any way he could. “I guess I wanted you to notice me.”

She glared at him full on. “Notice you? You narcissistic little fucker.” She turned her attention back to the road in front of her. After several steps she said, “Like I’m not completely one hundred percent aware of your presence at any given moment?”

He grinned. “You are?”

“Don’t,” she snapped. “Don’t be cute.”

He tried to erase the glee from his face and took a deep breath. “Look, you’d been ignoring me all week. And after the night with your movie, I thought maybe things would be different since, you know, we’d talked and…”

“And for once you didn’t try to get down my pants?”

Well… “Yes.”

“Wow, you deserve some sort of award for that. Were you pissed that I didn’t acknowledge your accomplishment?”

“No, Maddie, I’m pissed that I can’t be with you.” He stopped walking, stunned at his honesty. She stilled too, but didn’t face him, which was for the best. It was easier to say what he needed to without the anger shooting from her gaze.

“Maddie, I want you more than anything. I am so…” What? He searched for the words. “Turned on by you. All of you, your mind, your art.” He moved his eyes down her form. “Your body. It’s killing me that you won’t give me the time of day.”

She rolled her eyes. “I bet it’s a first for you.”

“Yes.”

She shook her head and resumed running.

He followed, thinking about what he’d just said. “I mean…” He wasn’t used to women saying no to him, but that wasn’t why he liked her. “I’m not attracted to you,” he panted, “because you keep turning me down.” He panted again, the increasing incline making it hard to carry a conversation. “If that’s what you’re insinuating.” A stitch dug in his side. He put his hand on his waist to ease the ache. “Hey, can we just…walk?”

Maddie knit her brow. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I’m…” God, this was embarrassing. “I’m not a great runner.”

“What do you mean? You’re totally in shape. See? I notice you.”

He bit back a smile. “I strength train. And I run on a treadmill. A treadmill that’s totally flat.”

“That’s lame.” She sighed, slowing her pace. “I guess walking is fine. Though I enjoyed seeing you struggle.” Her lips curved slightly.

“I deserve that.” Her candor made him hopeful. He continued in her path of truthfulness. “But trust me, I’m always struggling around you.”

The smile that had hinted before now settled on her face.

Good. They were making progress. Though they still had miles to go. “I feel horrible about last night. I’m buried under the weight of regret, Maddie, and I don’t know how to come up for air.” He paused, uncomfortable with how exposed he felt. “I was an asshole. I can’t bear that it might mean I never have another chance with you. What can I do, baby?” The endearment was a slip but he didn’t regret it when he saw the pleased glimmer in her eye.

“Tell Beaumont,” she said without hesitation.

“Of course. I’ll tell him tonight.”

“He isn’t on set tonight. He’s out for some Beaumont-y thing. Joe’s running the shoot.”

“Then I’ll tell Joe.”

She pinned him with her stare. “No, it has to be Beaumont.”

“Then I’ll tell him first thing the next time I see him. I swear to God.”

“And promise to never ever do anything like that again.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” Never. He would never hurt her like that again, not on purpose.

“Okay.” She relaxed. “All right. Thank you.”

Micah let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. They walked in silence for several seconds while he gathered up his courage to say what he had to say next. “But, Maddie, that won’t fix everything. We have to deal with this.” He waved his hand back and forth between them. “With whatever is going on between us. Because it’s not going away.” He returned the scowl she gave him. “Don’t look at me like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And what exactly do you propose? Just fuck and get it over with?”

His balls throbbed at the suggestion of sex. “I was going to say one date, but yeah.”

She shook her head, her ponytail catching on her shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m listening to this.”

He exhaled slowly, worried that he was losing ground.

She turned on him before he could formulate a new plan. “Why me, Micah? If it’s not my repeated nos that have you intrigued, what is it? Why not one of the million other girls you know would kill for a night with you? Why me?”

That question. God, it was impossible to answer. He’d asked himself the same thing over and over since the airport and hadn’t come up with anything he could quite explain.

But now, for her, because she needed to know, he tried. “You remember that night?” He waited for her to nod. “Back then you liked me. At least, I think you did. And it wasn’t because I had money or a big name. It was me.”

He shook his head, not believing how completely exposed he was making himself for her. For a woman.

But as scary as it was, he wanted to be that exposed. “Now, when I’m kissing you, I’m kissing her—the woman who wanted to kiss that no-name guy from the wrap party. And you don’t seem to give a shit about the Micah Preston stuff.”

“That was a wrap party? Huh. I had no idea.” She kicked at the gravel with her toe, her eyes fixed on the ground.

It drove him crazy that she wasn’t looking him—that he couldn’t read her features, couldn’t see what she was thinking. “Yeah. For a Davenport film I’d just finished.”

“Hmm.” Finally she met his eyes. “Micah, that’s a really sweet sentiment. And I’m sure I can’t even begin to understand what it’s like for you. But I didn’t even know you back then. Yes, I was attracted to you for reasons that weren’t about fame or money. You were charming and adorable and well, so freakin’ hot.”

He grinned like he always did when she stated her attraction to him.

“But it was one night. A brief night a long time ago. If you want to know if I’m really into you, the real you under all that other stuff, then you’d have to give me a chance to get to know you. Because I don’t. I don’t know you.”

Her words punched him in the gut. Right. She didn’t know him. And he’d been wrapped up with this idea that she did—that she saw him for who he really was.

Yet instead of taking her truth and running like he usually did, he found himself asking, “Do you want to?”

“After what you pulled? I’m not sure.”

But she was still standing there talking to him. There had to be something he could say or do to make it work. “If I hadn’t been such an idiot, if I hadn’t fucked it up royally, what would it take to be with you?”

“It would take you being willing to be with me. I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to become my boyfriend. Or for you to be seen with me in the press. I’d just want a chance to see. See what happens, you know? Spend time together without any presumptions or preconceived notions of what we will or won’t be.”

“Spend time together…would that include time in and out of bed?”

She rolled her eyes. “You are such a horndog.”

“These days? Just for you.” His grin disappeared as he digested what she’d said. And though his next question tumbled out without much thought, he knew as he asked that it was exactly what he wanted. “I can’t take back yesterday, but if you thought you might be able to forgive me, and if I said okay, that I’d be willing to spend time with you without any presumptions or preconceived notions, would you give us that chance to see?”