Not Your Type (Chris Pine FanFic)

Lunch Date

"Rough life, leading man." She smiled. Chelsea liked how she felt more at ease. Perhaps it was something about being in a vehicle. Not having to make eye contact with him made it a lot easier to talk to him.

They talked about the script the rest of the way. He explained the role, it was a comedy. He told her, honestly, that he was nervous about it. Sure, Kirk had comedic moments, but it had been a long time since he'd done comedy. Chelsea racked her brain trying to figure out what movie he'd been in that was a comedy.

"Well," he started after she asked what comedies he'd done, "early in my career I did several rom coms." He slowed at a stop light and prepared to turn into the restaurant. It was trendy, but not too trendy. They'd be seen. He looked over at her, she was clearly thinking about what romantic comedies he'd done. They parked.

Chelsea watched him look around, presumably looking for paps. She adjusted her scarf, smoothed her hair so her scar wouldn't show, and looked over at him.

"Hungry?"

"Famished. I've only had peanutbutter toast today." Chris smiled at her candor.

They walked in, side by side, to the restaurant, close but not touching. Quickly the hostess sat them. Chelsea felt her disdain and understood it. The hostess, probably a struggling actress, was gorgeous. Chelsea fought the urge to look at Chris to see if he'd noticed.

He had.

If he hadn't been trying to salvage his image there was a strong possibility he would've set up something later with the very attractive hostess. Sure, she didn't speak exactly grammatically correct when she sat them, but that didn't matter for one night.

Chris shook his head.

"No?" Chelsea asked. She'd seen him shake his head no, adamantly. It was weird.

"Sorry, lost in my own thoughts." He was looking down at a small menu. It was on a strip of paper and had no prices. Chelsea cringed thinking about how much he was about to spend. A waiter came and took their drink orders. Chris ordered water, Chelsea followed suit. She stared down at the menu, even though she'd decided on some elegant sounding salad.

"Having a hard time deciding?" Chris asked. She hadn't looked up since he'd shook his head.

"I'm getting the salad," she kept looking down.

"So the menu is that interesting?" Her cheeks flushed. It was cute. Chris really enjoyed the power he had over her.

"Yep, entrancing. Can't take my eyes off of it." She traced the edge of it with her finger tip. He looked down at it.

"You're a sarcastic one aren't you?" She smiled at the menu. "It's ok, you can look up."

"I carry on conversation with you a lot better this way," the pink color of embarrassment still stained her cheeks.

"What?" He didn't quite understand. How can you carry on conversation without eye contact?

He sounded offended, "It's embarrassing," she muttered. He had this strange pull, she just wanted to keep talking, but she knew if she looked up at his eyes which were no longer shielded by his expensive sunglasses, she'd stumble through her sentences.

"Two words, Chels." She felt goosebumps cover her arms when he shortened her name. "Acne scars. Can you get more embarrassing?" He could tell she rolled her eyes. It blew her mind that he was that self-conscious. It also made her feel that perhaps, telling him how she thought he was gorgeous could just be viewed as making him feel better. Maybe it wouldn't be that embarrassing.

She looked up at him. Her stomach did a flip. When she wasn't looking at him she literally forgot how handsome he was. She smiled. He smiled. Her stomach flipped again. The waiter walked up asking if they were ready to order. To her surprise, Chris ordered for both of them. He looked at the waiter, giving her an extra moment or two to just take him in. He was so beautiful and he was there, with her.