“Hi,” I said a little breathlessly, looking up into those lovely eyes. There were times when he was like a bearded Peter Pan, all boyish mischief, and times when he looked like he just stepped off the set of a History Channel show about warriors or something. And then there were the times when he didn’t look like anything but himself. Just Kallum Lieberman, who gave me his coat when I shivered between takes and who wrote me date requests in neat, blocky handwriting.
