Somebody to Like

21 - Advanced Adulting

 **Amelie**

I was just a little bit tipsy. It was the only excuse for me snorting like a deranged donkey at the story Drew had just told me. Fortunately he appeared delighted by my snorting if his amused smirk and devilishly raised eyebrow were any indication.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," I gasped through my laughter and pressed my hands to my face covering my nose and mouth. It wasn't enough to stop yet another, although this time smaller, snort escaping. Drew's smirk turned into a wide grin and then he was laughing along with me. I should have felt terrible because in no way was the story he'd just told me complimentary to him.

Gradually our laughter subsided and the grin melted from Drew's face. It was strange. The expression that remained on his face wasn't one that I was used to seeing, not that I knew him well or had even met him before he was introduced to me at the previous night's party, but I had seen his movies and I had picked up a magazine or two in my time. I couldn't help but wonder how many people had seen him like this because Drew was like one of those old time movie stars, the real Drew was hidden beneath a thick layer of charm and devil-may-care swagger. Even in his movies while he could make you feel and believe in him on screen it wasn't as though you were seeing Drew Alexander's emotions, you were seeing whatever it was that his character was feeling.

"Of course after that she really hated me," he said and that fleeting, unsettling look on his face was chased away by his practised, devilish smile. Because of course we were discussing another woman. A woman that he joked about chasing like it was all a game but I was beginning to suspect meant more to him than he was prepared to admit.

Yes, I was on a date with a Hollywood A-list actor who'd friend zoned me. It was fortunate for my self-esteem that by the time he'd finished putting me at ease on the ride to the restaurant I'd already decided he wasn't for me. It wasn't that I didn't like him, there was nothing not to like, it was just that if anything I felt too comfortable with him. He felt like family, like a more jovial and outdoorsy version of my cousin Noel. I couldn't imagine kissing him any more than I could imagine kissing Noel – and there was an idea that made me sick up a bit in my mouth.

The date wasn't a total write-off, the food was delicious and the company, although disappointing in terms of romantic prospects, was amusing. It also helped that famous as he was Drew had clearly decided that I could be trusted. The stories he was sharing with me were hardly the kind of things that he'd confess on the couch with Ellen or Oprah. As popular and outgoing as he was Drew was hardly the kind of man who'd start jumping on couches.

"So you're going to give up on her then?" I asked. His eyes widened in surprise and I had to wonder if many people questioned him. It sounded as though this woman did, maybe that was why he was so into her.

"Actually," he sounded as if he was surprising himself, "I'm not." He glanced down at the table and then back at me. "I like you."

"I like you too." I did. He was a very likeable person.

"But you don't like me like me." It may have just been me but I couldn't help but think that there was just a touch of uncertainty in his tone. Like he was double checking with me that he wasn't be a complete arsehole for friend zoning me. He watched me intently as I answered.

"It may surprise you to know that not every woman you meet wants to ravish you and find out if you're a boxers or briefs man." I took a steadying sip of my wine. That amount of star power focused on you could be daunting even if you didn't want get the possessor of said star power naked. And for the record I wouldn't have objected to him losing his shirt, who wouldn't have wanted to know if his eight-pack was real or nothing more than an illusion created by make-up and skilled lighting. "No I don't like you like you."