It Happened in L.A.: Ms Match / Shockingly Sensual / Playmates. Lori Wilde

she’d kissed him back.

      She concentrated on changing into her sleep shirt, then managed to wash her face without zoning out. However, the minute she slipped between the sheets, it was all Paul.

      Ridiculously, there was the tiniest temptation to let her thoughts wander to the unlikeliest road she could imagine. That of Paul and her as a couple.

      It made her laugh, it was so silly, but she was alone and it was dark, and would she consider being his partner? Sharing her life with him?

      No. It couldn’t happen. Sure, he could come to trivia and softball games, and even in bizarro world, her book club. She could see all of that. What she couldn’t see was her in his universe. Where it was all Autumns and they were all shallow and there were cocktail parties where people talked about movie stars as if they were somehow meaningful. Where beauty was the main commodity, the strange quirk of genetics and makeup that worked magic on a camera.

      There was nothing about Paul’s world that held any interest for her. Paul might be trying to expand his horizons, but she knew he was the exception. Which made his quest all the more strange.

      He would get no points for this trip outside the fold. No one would admire him for wanting more. To that crowd, the only more that mattered was monetary. Bigger cars, flashier clothes. Excess made art form.

      While she would admit that she was attracted, okay, strongly attracted, to Paul, it was a limited attraction. Not her idea of a life partner. In fact, she’d been narrowing that ideal for a long time. One critical issue was that she and her unknown perfect mate would have common values. She wasn’t all that particular about religion or political affiliation per se, yet it mattered a lot that her eventual guy saw the world through a familiar lens. In all the successful relationships she’d been privy to, the couples had been more alike than opposites.

      She couldn’t imagine Paul and her finding that. She supposed some people might base an entire relationship on the love of sports, but that wasn’t enough for her. And it wouldn’t be enough for him.

      Ah, who cared. Not a chance either of them wanted to be together like that. And only a tiny chance that they both wanted to pursue a more sexual relationship.

      The mere thought of it made her blush. But after that kiss, she couldn’t discard the whole notion, could she?

      Would it be so horrible to make love to Paul?

      She turned over, sticking her left hand under her pillow, knowing she hadn’t asked the right question. The one that really mattered.

      Would she be too self-conscious to make love to Paul?

      God, she wanted it not to matter. She hated shallowness so much, and yet she couldn’t deny that him being so much better-looking had an impact.

      All these years, when she’d said looks didn’t matter, had she been telling the truth?

      She sighed, wishing none of this had happened. Wishing Autumn had never sent him to take her to the party. Wishing…

      Wishing she could stop thinking, and just kiss him one more time.

      GWEN WAITED outside the little theater, her hands in her sweater pockets, wondering if this evening was a good idea. Paul would be there any minute, and she would prefer to have her game face on by then. If she could decide what her game was.

      The Rialto was playing a double bill of Japanese horror. Ju-on and Ringu. The perfect safe meeting space for two potential friends.

      Only, there was the whole after to deal with. It was always better if there were beverages and discussions following favorite films. That seemed safe, but Gwen knew that once the conversation wound down, Paul would walk her to her car. He just would. And that was the moment she was so troubled about.

      In the three days since he’d been to her house, they’d spoken on the phone five times. The first, he’d asked her for the name and author of another book she’d mentioned. The second, he’d called about the softball team, and found out that he couldn’t play until next Wednesday. The third, he’d started with a question about the book, then admitted he just wanted to talk. That call had lasted one hour and twenty-two minutes.

      Today he’d called twice. Once to ask her if she’d like to see the movies, and again to ask her if he should pick her up. She’d had that answer on the ready.

      She enjoyed him on the phone. Startling, because she really wasn’t much of a phone person. Holly knew that. Their calls were brief and to the point. If either of them needed to really talk, they got together. It was great.

      In fact, all of her friends knew about her phone habits. Only, Paul had made her change the rules. Being on the phone with him was easy. Not in the least simple, but easy.

      Every time her phone rang, even at work, her heart sped. Whatever thoughts she’d had vanished and it was all she could do not to leap to answer the damn thing. The thing was, she wasn’t like this. Never had been. Even in the worst of her teen angst, she hadn’t been like the other girls who couldn’t seem to manage a single thought outside of their past, present or future boy-friends. Gwen hadn’t understood it then, and she sure as hell didn’t understand it now. It was weird. A little bit wonderful. But troubling, too.

      “Hey, you look worried. Did you think I’d be late?”

      She turned to look up at Paul and her smile came without a thought. So did the flutters plaguing her so often these days. “No, I was just thinking about stuff.”

      “Dangerous occupation. It always gets me into trouble.”

      “We’ve got just enough time to get popcorn and good seats.”

      He glanced at his watch, some terribly expensive army-looking thing. “Half an hour.”

      “I said good seats.” She took out two tickets from her pocket. “See? I knew you’d be here on time.”

      “I was going to get those.”

      “You may buy the popcorn, which I assure you will be more expensive. I love my popcorn.”

      “A giant tub?”

      “For me, yes. You may get what you like.”

      He laughed. “A giant soda to go along?”

      She handed the tickets over to the nice man at the door. “Nope. Medium, diet. With the popcorn, make sure they put the butter on halfway through, then again at the end. No skimping.”

      He touched her back as he escorted her to the candy counter. Just a touch, something one friend would do with another friend, no biggie, and yet it was a biggie, it was giant because she reacted like…She reacted foolishly.

      The popcorn saved her. Paul ordered, not even blinking at her request for diet soda. He got himself a large popcorn, no butter. Fool. He clearly didn’t understand movies the way she did.

      Inside, the theater was already a quarter full, mostly with teenagers. A few older folks sat in the far corners, but she wanted dead center. So did everyone else, but they ended up with decent enough seats.

      Once settled, purse and sweater were put aside, popcorn and napkins on her lap, cup in the holder. It was perfect and she sighed contentedly.

      “Yeah,” he said, his voice showing much pleasure. “How many times have you seen these two?”

      “Three and two, respectively. I only hope that the film stock is decent. This theater can be hit-and-miss.”

      “I got them both on DVD, but I prefer seeing them here. They’re scarier.”

      She nodded as she dug into the great bucket of buttery goodness. “I also love the coming attractions. It’s all good.”

      “So is the book you gave me.”

      “You still like it?”

      “No. I like it more. It kept me up too late last night. And tomorrow, I’ve got a showing to go