Page 31 of Burn the Script

Graham’s fingers curl into fists. “Did he try anything? Give me a name, and I’ll⁠—”

“Stop. I don’t need a hero, Graham. I need you to listen.”

A beat of indecision passes before he releases a slow breath and sits next to me, elbows planted on his knees.

“After I left the restaurant, I hung out with Ms. Darcy. She reminded me to trust my instincts, and right now, they’re telling me to give dating a try. Not to find someone, but as a test to see how well I can handle myself in uncomfortable situations.”

“To help with your social anxiety?”

I squeeze my hands together. “Yeah…exactly.”

The frown on his face deepens, like he’s remembering all the parties and other engagements I backed out of. Depending on the venue or the number of people attending, I’d have to force myself to go.

“What about us?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

His posture straightens as the frown disappears, replaced by determination. “Can I take you on a date?”

“Might be kind of hard while you’re living a thousand miles away.”

“Distance was never an issue for us when I was acting. We made it work then, and I’ll make it work now. Charter planes exist for a reason.”

“Rich people solutions,” I murmur, brushing lint off my trousers. “Your focus should be on the movie, Graham. You’ve worked hard for it. Don’t risk your future by chasing the past.”

“Give me two months. I won’t try to compromise your dating life. I’ll even help you.” He grimaces, like the idea of me being with anyone else tastes sour. “If you find someone you like, I’ll back off. But if you’re single when I’m done filming, will you consider giving us another chance? A real one, without any distractions.”

Chances are slim that I can last two months around Graham without falling into old ways and giving in to irrefutable desires. This could be a secondary challenge I set for myself, resisting my need to fulfill each of his needs and vice versa.

God, we’re a co-dependent mess.

“It’s too soon to make any promises, but I’ll consider it,” I say.

His hand finds mine, and like always, the gesture feels deeply meaningful in its simplicity. “As much as it kills me to say this, I hope you meet someone who surprises you. Someone who offers everything you’re looking for. Because I’ll know exactly what I have to do to steal you away from him and make you mine again.”

I’ll always be yours is the instant response on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t set it free. We’ve had enough honesty for one night.

When his lips touch my head, I release his hand and slip my arm around him. He answers in kind, tossing an arm over my shoulders and drawing me closer. Nothing feels more comfortable and right than leaning into Graham’s side, and I chuckle at the situation we’ve found ourselves in.

“It’s kind of awkward having you here after I went out with someone else.”

“Not for me. You could let a thousand men buy you dinner, and I’d show up a thousand times with dessert.” He reaches over and tugs my bottom lip from my teeth, freeing the smile I’m trying to hide. “Don’t count me out just yet.”

My eyes sting as he retrieves his cap and sunglasses from the dresser. In the doorway, he gives me one last smile, touched by sadness, and disappears.

I rub my chest, where the pain burrows deepest, and wonder why things can’t be different. Why I had to fall in love with a man millions of people have claimed for someone else. And why I’m so afraid of them hating us if I were to claim him for myself.

14

MIGUEL

THEN

April, Year One

My bravery came in small bursts and when I least expected it. Minutes earlier, under the magic of moonlight, I was ready to strip down and spread out like a buffet. But as Graham locked up the house, I stood near the foot of his platform bed and wrung my hands.

The outdoor lights punched through the windows, bathing the room in a revealing glow. I wished he would turn them off.