Prima Donna by Laura Drewry Page B

halfway to her mouth, he noticed the way she made a point of not looking at him, and he noticed the way she stopped blinking for a couple seconds.
    “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I got that, but why?”
    “Because it’s my life.” She pushed away from the island, and seemed to take a long time to fill her water glass before she sat back down and pushed the crust around on her plate. “I like to be at home when the old year ends and the new one starts.”
    Was that the best she could come up with? He gave her another few seconds, then snorted. “Sorry, but I’m calling bullshit on that one.”
    “What do you mean?” Finally, she looked at him. Hell, she even looked a little insulted. “It’s true.”
    “Right,” he chuckled. “Just like it was true last night when you kept telling everyone you were ‘fine.’ ”
    “I
was
fine. I
am
fine.”
    “Uh-huh.” Carter swallowed the rest of his sandwich and pushed his plate away. “And if bullshit were brass, you’d have a full band playing.”
    It took a second, but eventually she got it. Hell, she even smiled, weak as it was.
    “Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”
    “Calling bullshit on that, too. Look, Red, if you don’t want to talk about it, just tell me it’s none of my business; don’t lie to me.”
    “All righty then.” She popped a piece of her sandwich in her mouth and grinned wider. “It’s none of your business.”
    “Okay. See, I’m good with that.” Now who was lying?
    As she sat staring into her water glass, Carter stacked their dishes and started loading them into the dishwasher.
    “Just leave it,” she said, pushing away from the island. She headed into the living room, but Carter hung back until the dishes were taken care of.
    “Take a load off.” With her feet tucked up beside her, she pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over her lap, her gaze never leaving the TV as she flicked past everything until she hit on
Star Wars: A New Hope
. “Hope you like
Star Wars.
”
    “Yeah, sure.” He’d worn out his first set of VHS copies the year he was sick, upgraded to DVD the day they were released and still kept all those old copies next to his boxed set of the
Complete Saga
on Blu-ray.
    On the couch next to her, Carter spent more time watching Regan than he spent watching the movie. Every time the Imperial March started, her eyes narrowed a little, every time a light saber crackled to life, her eyes widened, and every time Solo let rip a little sarcasm, her lips twitched but never actually smiled.
    Carter needed to see her smile again.
    “I don’t suppose you have a gold bikini—”
    “Shh.” She rolled her eyes, but at least she smiled a little. “She doesn’t even wear that in this movie.”
    Every time she moved her head, her ponytail swished against the back of the couch. This was how he’d always seen her hair—pulled back in a simple straight ponytail. But last night she’d let it fall down in long, soft, coppery-colored waves, and that’s how he wanted to see it again, all loose around her shoulders, even if she’d somehow managed to flatten all the waves.
    Slowly, he lifted a bit of her hair and twirled it between his fingers. When she didn’t argue, he did it again, then eased the band out of her hair and let the length of it fall through his fingers. He took his time, filling his hand with the long silky strands, letting it go and doing it all over again while she kept right on pretending she was fine.
    He spread his hand wide, fanning her hair further. For a second there, he thought she might lean back into his touch, but then a Magicuts commercial came on and the moment was gone.
    “I’m sorry about your salon,” he said quietly. “Is there anything I can do?”
    “Actually, yeah.” She untangled his hand from her hair and turned so she sat facing him, her knees pulled up to her chest and the blanket half-dangling on the floor. His fingers twitched against the emptiness, but he