Page 32 of King of Hollywood

“You don’t like hamburgers?” I offered in place of a greeting, Allen’s voice still in my head. “My sister, Alberta, told me once that there’s nothing that can’t be healed by a cheeseburger.”

“She did?” Felix didn’t look at me, his voice hollow as he continued to pick.

“Was she right?” I asked, my heart pounding.

There had been one thing a cheeseburger couldn’t fix. Death was resistant to all carbs. Alberta would know.

Felix twisted to look at me then, a soft smile on his lips. I’d been so certain he was devastated, sitting here alone, but the look on his face now was nothing of the sort. His eyes were warm, a deep sadness resonating inside them, but mirth twinkled there too.

I had the oddest feeling I’d never really looked at Felix Finley before.

My belly flipped.

“She was.” Felix hadn’t touched his burger, therefore he was lying. It just…took me a second to figure out why.

Felix lied, not because he was dishonest—but because he wanted me to feel like I had been useful. He lied because somehow he seemed to know that I had done my best to comfort him, lack of cheese and all. He lied…because he cared about me.

At least—I hoped he did?

I sucked in a breath.

“I looked at the stars on the way back,” I told him, my voice as soft as his was. I didn’t know how to flirt. So I wasn’t sure that’s what this was—only that it felt fluttery and soft, and my heart was racing.

The beast inside me wagged his tail.

“Did they explode?” Felix’s lips quirked up.

“Not yet,” I replied.

We were ridiculous. This was ridiculous. I couldn’t stop smiling.

“Pity,” he joked. At least, I thought he was joking. I’d never been very good at telling.

I couldn’t contain my snort—probably more startled by the sound than Felix was. When was the last time I laughed like this? I couldn’t for the life of me recall. My heart felt fluttery, the realization I’d come to when talking to Allen buzzing beneath my skin.

I like him.

It was a secret that had nothing to do with murder, and yet, was the most frightening thing I’d ever kept quiet.

I like him.

I’d had a lot of secrets throughout my life. And yet, I’d never been more tempted to spill them all than I was right then, sitting in the dark, with Felix’s eyes on mine, only the trees outside our windows for company.

If I laid all my cards on the table, perhaps it would give me a chance. A real one. Not one that I’d fostered and molded—manipulated into place. Not a card trick, an illusion. Not a game to win or lose or cheat.

Not entertainment.

Perhaps…if I told the truth…Felix might see me as a good bet.

I love stars, they’re steady, constant.

Until they explode.

“Do you think they will?” Felix asked, his voice quiet, reverent. His eyes were on my lips. I had never been more tempted, in all my life, to kiss another person. To touch him. To see if he tasted as good as he smelled. “Explode, I mean.”

“Maybe.” My pulse raced as I stared at him. Stared at the mole beneath his eye. Stared at his lovely, red irises—there was no way those were real. Stared at where the roots of his hair were growing back in, ebony black, stark against his pale, alabaster skin.

We were opposites in so many ways.