There were a lot of things to like about Noah Douglas, but who knew that gossip would end up being one of them?

When they announced the winner, one of the most prestigious and beloved actors in Hollywood, now it was my turn to lean in and ask, “What about him?”

“He’s dating his granddaughter’s best friend.”

“Ew, gross,” I said.

He kept up a steady stream of commentary through each of the presenters and winners, delighting me in a way I didn’t know was possible. I was having the best time as I found out who was having affairs (it was like ninety percent of them), the people battling addictions, the massive amount of plastic surgery for both men and women, and the ridiculous things they were willing to do for fame.

Like how the Best Supporting Actor winner pretended to have Lyme disease because he had a book coming out and knew he’d get a lot of publicity. Or how last year’s Best Supporting Actress was in the habit of fostering dogs, getting a lot of press about it, and then having her assistant return them to shelters.

That one infuriated me. I was never going to watch a movie she starred in ever again.

“Are you having a good time?” Noah asked during a commercial break.

“Surprisingly enough, I am.”

“Surprisingly? I feel personally attacked. I can be entertaining,” he informed me.

“Duh, we’re sitting here because of your ability to entertain.”

Noah shook his head. “That’s my ability to act, and to connect. Not entertain.”

“They don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

He smiled at me and I had to look away, lest I be totally overwhelmed by him. Someone came over to say hello to Chase Covington, and it reminded me that he was sitting so close to me and I inadvertently whispered Chase’s full name under my breath when he stood up.

Of course, because this was my life, Noah heard me. “You had no idea who I was, but you’ve heard of Covington?”

I went absolutely still, my heart beating loudly but slowly. While I hadn’t forgotten that I’d told Noah I didn’t know who he was, it was something I’d shoved into the very back of my brain, never to be seen again. Like the old, broken Christmas decorations in my mom’s hall closet.

I knew I should tell him. Confess that I could probably quote several of his movies verbatim. That I’d had a crush on him even before I knew what a crush was.

But something held me back. Maybe if he hadn’t been so charming and fun tonight, I would have felt differently. I was having such a good time, and I knew that telling him the truth would ruin it.