Not Your Type (Chris Pine FanFic)

That Conversation Pt. 3

"Not what I meant."

"I know," he squeezed her hand. "I feel like when I tell you why, you'll want to leave. I cannot imagine you," he couldn't even finish his statement.

"Did you kill someone?"

He chucked, "No."

"So, no murder?"

"Nope."

"Then go."

With a deep breath Chris began. "I like going out. I went out with some friends. There was this woman." He felt Chelsea tense up, she already knew this story but it was different hearing it from his mouth. "Please don't make me talk about this," he whispered into her temple, his lips brushing against her skin. 

"Just tell me. I mean, it doesn't matter. It's in the past. But still."

"You deserve to know." A few minutes passed while he gently combed his fingers through her soft brown locks. "There was a woman. She was attractive." He waited to see if Chelsea reacted and when she didn't he continued. "I approached her, bought her a few drinks. We danced a bit." Again he deliberated continuing this story, but Chelsea hung on his every word. "One thing led to another and we ended up."

"Ok, you can stop there. I don't need to know."

"Nothing happened."

"I don't need to know."

Chris pulled her face up, Chelsea's eyes were filling with tears. She wanted to know why but she didn't expect to care as much as she did. "Nothing happened. We kissed."

"Well a kiss is not nothing," she murmured.

"It was blown out of proportion. Media got a hold of it. And her husband found out."

"Husband?" Even though she'd read these things, it still shocked her. Something about hearing that it was in fact the truth in Chris' deep voice made it real and startling.

"Husband. But then I never saw her again. It was a drinking induced moment, it meant nothing but it practically destroyed my career. With in a matter of days I was dropped from multiple auditions and one project. Greedily, I just wanted to fix it. But my agent wanted that more. Commission and shit. My PR team went on the hunt for a way to fix the problem. I went nostalgic. I called up Jeff and he took me to watch the football game at your house."

"Your manager sent you there?" Chelsea questioned the motive, was it really that he went sentimental and searched out his past or was it a suggestion he merely acted upon. 

"No, no. It was just me wanting to reconnect with people that I made better choices with. I wanted to be with people that made me happy. Then I met you."  Chris pulled himself up, forcing Chelsea to sit up as well.  They sat facing each other, each completely vulnerable in their nudity. Yet, their eyes never left the deep, locked gaze. A chill caused Chelsea to shake, Chris pulled the duvet around her shoulders.

"No one meant for it to happen. And you were so nice. So friendly. The way you lied to get me away from those two girls."

Chelsea snickered, "Bazinga."

Chris laughed, "Bazinga. Yeah. And then we played football." There was a brief pause as both thought about the game, playing against each other, and the small touches that meant so much more now. "Someone snapped a photo."

"Your agent sent someone?"

"No, he's slime but no. It was happenstance. And it was such a perfect picture. There you were, being the adorable girl next door. I was actually happy. Like really fucking happy. For an hour or so I forgot about what a idiot I had been. The lectures, the turndowns, all disappeared." Chris pushed Chelsea's hair back out of her face and outlined her scar with his fingertips. Chelsea closed her eyes and enjoyed the touch. "I noticed this, but I really paid no mind to it at first. All I could think of was what couldn't happened to such a pretty, happy girl. Then the thought vanished. The afternoon was so enjoyable, so fun." He slowly, gently touched the puffy, red line. "But it was the first thing my agent noticed when the picture popped up. I don't know how they knew, but they knew you."

Chelsea's eyes broke his stare. "That's what it was like in Texas. People just knew. I guess it must be what it's like to be you. People always know who you are, you can't disappear into a crowd. Ladies at the grocery store felt the need to touch my scars like they'd touch a pregnant lady's belly. It got to be enough, so I left. I sold practically everything and moved here. I just wanted a chance to be Chelsea again. I wanted to be happy, too." She shoved a tear off her cheek.

"God, I'm so sorry." Chris pulled her into his arms.

"No, it's not your fault."

"Yes," he kissed her scars one by one, "yes it is, Chels. If I hadn't messed up in the first place, none of this would have happened."

The sat in silence, Chelsea practically sitting in his lap while he tenderly caressed her skin.

"None of it would have happened," she whispered.

"That's all I can think about. Any moment when my guilt would overcome me, that's what I would think of." He grabbed her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. "I know, if I hadn't been forced," he stopped and said forced again with finger quotes, "forced into this, I never would've met you. I wouldn't have gotten to know you the way I did." He kissed her, faintly, as if asking permission to do so. "There were so many moments I wanted to tell you. But I was afraid you'd be upset."

"Of course I'd be upset. I AM upset." She laughed. Here Chelsea sat naked in Chris' lap, yeah she was so upset. Chris laughed too as Chelsea nuzzled into his chest. He hugged her.

"I was fearful you'd leave. The moments we'd had together had been so perfect. Just watching you smile makes my day better. I hate that your picture was splashed in tabloids with mine. To know that you just wanted a second chance, I feel like I extirpated that."

Chelsea kissed him. "I love your vocabulary." He smiled into the lips. She held his face. "Chris, you and I never made sense. All I could do was question what was going on. Why me? I mean, I'm not your type." Chris scoffed, "Don't act like it's not true. I'm no model." She motioned to her scars. "At least I now know why, but it doesn't change how I feel. Type or not, I love you."

A huge smile spread across Chris' face. "You are my type. It just took me a while to figure out what my type was."