Page 23 of Love Unscripted
He forced his expression into neutrality, though he doubted it held. Some things refused to stay hidden.
Whatever this pull was, he wanted it gone. He wasn’t looking for a romantic relationship. His life had only just regained its fragile balance. The last thing he needed was a complication.
And certainly not one named Camille Carlucci.
~*~*~*~
Camille took a slow breath.
That look she’d just caught in Aaron’s eyes had nearly undone her.
Every interaction with Aaron Cortelli unsettled her. The man was dangerously attractive. Not just physically—though that alone would have been enough. He stood around six-three, with a lean, well-built physique and long dark brown hair thatbrushed past his collar, softened by subtle sunlit highlights. There was something almost unfairly beautiful about him. Dreamy, even.
But Hollywood was full of handsome men.
That wasn’t what unsettled her.
It was the way he carried himself—steady, self-assured, observant without seeming performative. Most men in the industry worked hard to command attention. Aaron never appeared to try, yet somehow drew every eye in the room the moment he walked in.
What set Aaron apart was something else. Control. The quiet, contained intensity in his mocha-colored eyes. The way he moved, like a panther—deliberate, economical, like nothing he did was accidental. The authority in his voice—not loud, never forced, but impossible to ignore.
But the man wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship. The ever present gold band on his finger made that clear.
A middle-aged Black woman with a name tag reading Julie approached.
“Hi, you guys ready to order?”
Camille glanced at Aaron. He gave a small nod, watching her.
“Yes, we are,” Camille replied.
“Go ahead, ma’am.”
“Signature burger, golden fries, your vanilla milkshake, and a slice of apple pie with ice cream,” Camille said, handing over her menu.
Aaron stared at Camille, not even bothering to hide his reaction.
“And you, sir?”
He shifted his gaze, almost as if pulling it away from her. “Umm…grilled salmon, baked potato, salad.”
“Anything to drink?”
“My water’s fine, thank you.”
Julie left.
Aaron leaned back slightly, studying her. “Where do you put it all?”
“My toes.”
He paused.
“I’m serious,” she added, deadpan. “They’re enormous. Want proof?”
A low laugh escaped him—unexpected, warm. It did something unsettling to her chest.
“You’re funny.”
