by L. A. Witt
I love you, Adam, I thought as I stared at the photo. Why did I do this to us?
Why am I not doing something about it?
My heart sped up. I could do something about it, right? It wasn’t like either of us had said anything we couldn’t take back. This wasn’t a nasty split. He had every right to be angry, and maybe he was, and maybe he wouldn’t take me back, but… it was worth a shot, wasn’t it?
How ironic that it was the relentless press coverage that had overwhelmed me and—coupled with the nasty emails and threats—had driven me away from Adam, and now it was a paparazzo’s photo that had made me second-guess my decision.
I picked up my cell and went to his contact, but hesitated. Was this really a conversation to have over the phone? And would he even answer since he was still filming?
Without another thought, I opened a new tab and started looking up airfare.
~*~
Getting a few days off work and getting to LA was reasonably easy.
Finding Adam? Not so much.
I’d swung by his house, hoping he’d be home, but he wasn’t. I’d texted to see if we could talk, but no response. Quite possibly because I was too much of a coward to come out and say I was in town and wanted to talk in person.
Finally, feeling a bit creepy and stalkery, I did a little Google-Fu. Lo and behold, there were fans and reporters alike talking about where the movie was filming, and luckily, they weren’t on one of the studio lots today. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to get on one of those lots, or at least not close enough to actually talk to him.
Instead, they were filming in an old warehouse out in Pomona. I wondered a few times if my internet intel was accurate and if I should just suck it up and tell Adam I was in town, but when I rounded the corner and the warehouse came into view? Oh yeah. There was definitely some Hollywood happening here today.
A flock of paparazzi milled around outside the chain link fence. Some looked bored, keeping an eye on the warehouse. Others were pressed up against the fence like kids pressing their nose to a toy store’s window.
I parked half a block or so over, swallowed my nerves, and walked toward the fence. I was still a solid hundred feet away when someone saw me. My nerves came crashing back to the surface as soon as the first lens faced me, but I kept walking. Even as more cameras turned, the California sun glinting off wide-eyed lenses, I forced myself to keep going. I hadn’t come this far to be scared off by these assholes again.
Some plastic barriers kept the reporters corralled out of the way of the gate, which was guarded by two burly, bored-looking dudes with badges. As I approached, the black guy put up his hand. “This is a closed set, sir.”
“I know.” I swallowed. “I just need to get a message to someone.”
He shook his head. “No can do. Closed set.”
“Look, all I—”
“Move along, sir.”
The other security guy—a sunburned white dude who looked twice as grumpy as his partner—glared at me.
Sighing, I stepped back. Shit. How the hell was I supposed to let Adam know I was here? He probably had his phone off, too.
Except… didn’t he say his assistant kept up on his social media when he was working? Especially if he was on set? What if I could get her attention?
I scanned the group of photographers, and my heart sped up.
I had an idea.
Chapter 35
Adam
Sam Goode huffed sharply and smacked the armrest of his chair with the wrinkled script. “Come on, Adam. Get your shit together.”
“I will. I am.” I put up my hands. “Sorry.” I didn’t bother explaining myself. If there was one thing this director didn’t give two flying fucks about, it was why an actor wasn’t running on all eight cylinders. “I’m good.”
“Yeah, right,” he muttered.
I gritted my teeth but didn’t let my own frustration show. He was right to expect me to be focused. Nobody here cared what was going on in my head, only what was going on in front of the camera.
I took a deep breath, straightened the flak jacket that was making me sweat like a pig, and went back to the doorway I was supposed to be coming through.
It took two more takes and one more snarled warning from Sam, but I finally got the scene right. While the crew started moving set pieces around and adjusting equipment, Sam dismissed me and the rest of the actors for a break.
As I walked past him, Sam didn’t look at me, but I knew he was speaking to me when he said, “Maybe use your break to pull your head out of your ass.”
“Will do,” I mumbled, and started pulling off the flak jacket. I wandered over to the catering table to get some water. I scanned the food. Usually this was when my stomach would start growling and I’d wonder if it was possible to die of envy because everything looked amazing and, aside from the vegetable tray, there was nothing I could eat. Not until we’d finished shooting all the scenes that required me to take off my shirt. I couldn’t wait. I was miserable enough right now without being so hungry I was seriously eyeballing a post that some termites had apparently found appetizing.
“Um, Adam?” Vanessa appeared next to me and showed me her phone. “You might want to see this.”
Oh, what fresh hell is—
The image on the screen made my heart stop.
It was a selfie of Brian. Behind him, there were cameras and reporters, and behind them, a chain link fence and a gray warehouse.
The caption read: The inscription is still true.
I cocked my head. The inscription? Still true? What in the world was—
An image flashed through my mind of what I’d written in his notebook a million years ago.
To my future number 1 fan.
And in the back of my mind, his voice echoed: “Guess I really did turn out to be your number one fan.”
My heart raced. Was he saying he was still my number one fan?
Then I looked closer at the photo and recognized the building in the background. Was he… was he here? Was that why he’d been texting me earlier?
My heart beat even faster, and I turned to Vanessa. “Uh, do they need me right—”
“They’re calling in the stunt guys, so I don’t think they’ll need you for a bit.”
I was already heading for the door. “I’ll have my phone on,” I called over my shoulder. “Text me if they start looking for me.” Then I broke into a run and bolted from the set.
It didn’t take much to find Brian. The paparazzi had been congregating out by the gate for the last two days. Two of my costars were the subject of hot gossip right now too—one for cheating on his new wife with his assistant, the other for rumors she was pregnant again—so the moths had been frantically circling all three flames.
As I crossed the lot, I saw Brian on the other side of the fence. He looked like a deer surrounded by wolves but trying like hell to look brave with cameras inches from his face, some aimed at him and others at me. When I got closer, I realized he was sweating. I couldn’t tell if it was the SoCal heat, or if it had to do with the nervousness radiating off him.
Trying my damnedest to ignore the cameras, I asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I came to say I’m sorry.” Brian’s voice was unsteady, but he didn’t stop. “I got overwhelmed, and I freaked out, but losing you…” He shook his head. “I’m so sorry.”
I blinked. “But what about all this?” I gestured at the reporters, all of whom were focused on us. Some snapped photos or videoed. Others watched intently, practically drooling as they waited for something juicy. “This won’t go away.” I glared at some of the paparazzi around us. “Trust me. And I’ll still be working stupidly long hours sometimes.”
“I know.” Brian kept his eyes right on me. “I can live with the long hours, and I don’t care about the shit people keep saying. Not anymore.” This time he stole a couple of glances to the reporters on either side of him, shifting with obvious discomfort, and met my gaze again.
“People can say what they want. I was an idiot to let them decide this for us. It’s a lot to handle, and I’m not exactly sure how to handle it”—he glanced around warily—“but I’d rather figure that out than go on without you.”
My jaw went slack. The air between us was still and silent, but the snap-snap-snap of camera shutters poked at my senses. I wanted to swat them away like they were bees. This was a far too intimate moment to spend on opposite sides of a chain link fence while vultures relentlessly picked off pieces.
I turned to the security guard. “Could you give him a pass?”
The man rolled his eyes, but he grudgingly gave Brian a pass and opened the gate.
“Come on,” I said as Brian stepped through. “Let’s go do this someplace private.” Neither of us spoke as we headed back toward the warehouse. I had no doubt he was as aware as I was of all the activity behind us. Tweets were probably already happening. Rumors were probably already flying.
I didn’t care and I hoped he didn’t either. This was between us and no one else, regardless of what they had to say about it.
The building was crawling with cast and crew, but some rooms off to the side had been designated as makeshift dressing rooms. They were nothing fancy, but at least they offered some semblance of privacy.
As I closed the door behind us, Brian looked around. “You don’t get a trailer or something?”
I snorted. “Not when we’re only shooting here for three days.”
He chuckled, but it didn’t last. We faced each other across the small room, the fluorescent light buzzing above our heads. Distantly, I could hear the noise of set activity, but in here, it was just us and that light.
Brian set his shoulders and looked in my eyes. “I meant what I said out there—I’m sorry.”
“I’m not mad.” I shook my head. “But maybe you were right, you know?” I gestured in the general direction of the reporters. “They’re all putting you through hell.”
“I don’t care.” He must have seen the argument on my face because he put up a hand and shook his head. “I know exactly what I’m getting myself into. I’ve had a taste of it, and no, I don’t like people fixating on me like that, but letting go of you was so much worse than putting up with them.” He came closer and reached for me. For just a second, he hesitated, but finally he cupped my face, the warmth of his fingertips nearly knocking my knees out from under me. “There’s nothing they can do or say that’s worse than being without you.”
I put my hand over his. “Brian…”
He caressed my cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry I let them get to me like that. I came here instead of calling because I needed you to hear it face-to-face.” He swallowed hard. “And so I could tell you I love you.”
My lips parted.
He dropped his gaze and spoke quickly. “I know we haven’t been doing this very long, but from the first time I saw you when you came to Seattle, it felt like I’d known you forever. Everything with you is so different than it’s been with anyone else. It’s…” He looked in my eyes again. “It’s like we’re both far from perfect, but we’re perfect for each other. Or at least, you’re perfect for me. And I think I pretty much fell for you on day one, and just kept right on falling after that.”
My.
Heart.
Melted.
I’d been hoping Geri was right and that with time, Brian might want to try again, but this? Brian pouring his heart out and telling me he felt the same way I did? Holy fuck.
And that made me want to throw my arms around him and never let go, and at the same time, get as far away from him as possible. Hadn’t being close to me done enough damage to his world?
Brian tilted his head. He was watching me, the crevices between his eyebrows steadily deepening. Disappointment crept into his expression, and as he started to draw back, I realized how long the silence had lingered between us.
I held his hand tighter, keeping it against my cheek. “I want you to be happy. I want you back, and I want us to see where this thing can go, but I’m not gonna lie—I’m scared to death of you being miserable because of all this.” I paused. “Because of me.”
“I’m already miserable.” He closed some of the remaining space and put his other hand on my waist. “But don’t you think we’ve both let other people’s opinions dictate our lives for too long? I mean, you had to leave your own hometown because of what your family thought.”
“Yeah, I did, but…” I chewed the inside of my cheek.
“I’m serious. People are going to talk.” He laughed dryly. “After everything I said outside, you know they’re already talking.” The humor faded, and his thumb traced my cheekbone again. “If it means I get to love you, then let them talk.”
Yep. Melted. Totally.
I exhaled hard and did exactly what I’d wanted to do a moment ago—threw my arms around him and held him tight. He returned the embrace, and for the longest time, neither of us made a sound. We just held on and let the world shift back onto its axis.
Stroking my hair, Brian whispered, “Does this mean you’ll take me back?”
I laughed into his neck and pressed a kiss to his skin. As I drew back to meet his eyes, I said, “I think I’d already decided to take you back when I saw that selfie.”
He laughed too, sounding as relieved as I felt.
I smoothed his hair and looked in his gorgeous blue eyes. “I love you, Brian.”
“I love you too.” We both smiled, and he leaned in close, so close my nerve endings lit up with anticipation of his kiss, and our lips just brushed when—
My phone screeched to life.
“Shit!” I jerked back from Brian to get it out of my pocket. I couldn’t ignore texts or calls when I was working—if Sam wanted me on set, that meant now.
And sure enough, Vanessa had written: Sam wants you in 15.
“Shit.” I pocketed my phone again and met Brian’s eyes. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He watched me uncertainly. “Can we, uh, pick this up after…”
“Of course.” I slid my hands up his chest and around the back of his neck. “They’ll be done with me in a couple of hours. We can meet at… well, at my hotel. I’m staying in the city right now.”
Brian nodded. “I can wait for you too.”
“Are you sure? You might get bored to tears.”
“I can keep myself occupied thinking of everything we’ll do later tonight.”
I shivered so hard I lost my breath, and he laughed wickedly.
“Come on.” He nudged me toward the door. “Let’s not get you in trouble with your boss.”
“Damn it. But first…” I cupped his face and went in for that kiss.
And, God, yes, everything in my world was right again. His mouth tasted like heaven. Like nothing else mattered—not even the gossip and cameras—because Brian loved me, and I loved him, and he’d come back.
All too soon, we separated. We were both breathless as we grinned at each other. Oh, I couldn’t wait for today to be over so I could take him back to my room. I didn’t care how tired I was. I would find the energy to have this man.
We shared another kiss, but just a quick one this time. We didn’t dare indulge in more. I had to get back to the set before Sam had a conniption. There would be time for this later.
My heart sped up. There would be time. And we would do this. Because Brian was back, and we were okay.
I led him out of the dressing room and toward the set. Vanessa looked up from her phone and did a double take, her eyes widening. “Wait, what’s—”
“I’ll explain later, but could you please show him someplace he can hang out until we’re done for the day? I’ll owe you big time.”
She laughed and gave my arm a little nudge. “No, you won’t. Now get over to makeup and get your face touched up.” To Brian, she said, “Come on. There’s a place you can sit that’s out of the way, but you’ll still be able to watch what’s going on.”
&nbs
p; “Sounds good.” He flashed me a quick smile, then followed her. I watched them go, and something settled in my chest. Brian and I probably weren’t completely out of the woods yet. We’d talked, but I needed us to actually be “us” again before I could totally relax. I needed to be sure.
But it was a start.
A damn good one, too.
So for now, I headed over to makeup, all the while grinning like an idiot.
Because Brian had come back.
Chapter 36
Brian
I felt like a little kid who couldn’t sit still.
Adam’s assistant had shown me to a place off to the side where a few chairs had been backed up against a wall, and she’d advised me to stay there and be absolutely quiet. No problem. I alternated between messing around on my muted phone and watching while the crew filmed. It was fascinating to watch, especially when Adam was on set, but I was still twitchy and desperate to get out of here.
I needed to be alone with him. I needed to make sure we really had reconnected. I’d never been particularly insecure in relationships, but we’d been in such a weird place earlier, and even after we’d kissed, everything felt so tenuous. Like if we didn’t stay focused on us and make absolutely sure things were good, they’d fall apart the minute our backs were turned. If that made me stupidly insecure, fine. All I cared about was getting somewhere with Adam and being together. We could talk, we could fuck, we could cuddle up and watch TV. Didn’t matter.
I just need to be close to you.
Even as I twitched and itched for the shoot to wrap up so we could get the hell out of here, I was also dreading the moment we’d actually leave.
Photos and videos of us outside had already started circulating the internet. From some tweets and Instagram posts, I gathered that more photographers and reporters had shown up. People were speculating left, right, and center about what was going on. Had we ground production to a halt so we could hash things out? Was Adam being a diva and demanding that everyone wait for us to settle our personal issues? Were we fighting? Had one or both of us slipped out another door? Had I seriously come crawling back to my sugar daddy?