Page 8 of Once Upon a Star

Looking at her, I would have instantly fallen in love with her if I hadn’t already been.

She walked slowly toward me as if she had all the time in the world. I wanted to take all the time for her and enjoyed the view, the moment, and the simple chance to look at Aracely Thomas. Her head was tilted slightly and her eyes held what could only be described as annoyance as she stood in front of me.

“Bash, what are you doing here?” she asked.

I loved hearing her say my name. She was one of only a few people who called me Bash. In the industry, I was known as Sebastian. Some people liked to think we were close and called me Anderson. Even one actor liked to call me Andy, but I had never liked that nickname. Bash was the one that mattered the most to me, because it came from Ara.

It took some effort but I fixed my gaze away from Ara and to her building. I looked up at it as if I was seeing it for the first time. I wasn’t. I had walked by the place more times that I care to admit and more than I would ever tell Ara.

“Maybe I’m thinking of moving in here. What are the maintenance fees? Is there a gym?” I asked.

“You just bought a nice co-op near your theater. You don’t strike me as a man who would be looking to move so quickly.”

“I might be willing if the right reasons came along.” I looked back at Ara and held her gaze. Her eyes locked on mine and I let my eyes slowly linger there for a second before moving over her body. I didn’t want her to have any doubt as to what I thought the right reason was. I loved to tease her; she used to love it when I did. It was one of the first things that had attracted me to her, how she wouldn’t take me seriously and gave back as good as I did.

She just held my gaze, daring me to say more. Her look told me she didn’t believe a word I was saying. This was my chance to change her mind. I might mean it in a teasing manner but I was completely serious.

“What? Were there no adoring fans to ogle you tonight so you decided to bother me?” she asked.

I gave her a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Sorry about that. Believe me, that wasn’t how I had wanted that to go.”

“Really? Were you hoping for more fans? Maybe a whole slew of them chasing you down the street. I’m surprised there aren’t any here now.” Ara looked past me and down the street as if she expected to see them.

“You can’t believe everything you read in the tabloids. I’m not the attention whore that everyone makes me out to be.”

“No, you’re just a whore in general,” she spat back. The words hurt but I didn’t let it show. It was what I deserved.

“Again, the stories have been exaggerated. Though I have to say, I’m a little flattered that you’ve been following me.”

“Don’t be absurd. I’ve avoided looking at anything about you.”

I raised an eyebrow at her and knew she was lying. I might be a popular man and it didn’t take much to find information about me, but you still had to look for it. “I doubt that,” I said.

“I don’t care. I don’t care about you. You made it clear you don’t care about me.”

There it was. She might have wanted to make me believe she was over me, but she wasn’t. Her last sentence confirmed it. It gave me the opening I had been looking for. Teasing and flirting with her hadn’t worked. I needed to try and be honest.

“But I do. You have no idea how much,” I said.

“You have a funny way of showing it. What has it been? Five, six years?”

“Seven years, three months and two days.” My voice barely above a whisper.

Ara took in a jagged breath. I could tell she hadn’t expected me to know the exact amount of time it had been since we had last talked. I wanted to tell her I could probably calculate it down to the second, given enough time.

She recovered quickly and said, “You care about me so much that you never tried to contact me. You never so much as liked a social media post. You never sent me a message, a text, a phone call, a letter, a package. Nothing. It’s like I didn’t exist to you.”

“I thought about you every day,” I admitted.

She shook her head at me. “Why would I believe you? Why would I care? You’ve been in town for months and yet you haven’t talked, tried to contact me, or let me know you were here. Those aren’t the actions of someone who missed me. Those are the actions of someone who forgot me.”

“Look at you! Who could ever forget you?” I smiled at her.

“Don’t flatter me. It won’t work,” Ara said but even in the dim light of the street, I swear I saw her blush.

“Are you sure?” I teased and moved closer to her.

Ara lifted her hand up to stop me, “What do you want, Bash? It’s late and I have work in the morning.”