Chapter Seven

Kaiden

"Jesus Christ," I mutter, dodging boxes of Christmas shit as I scour the set in search of Laura. This place looks like the North Pole took a shit right in the middle of it. I suppose it's not entirely terrible. It has a certain charm about it.

Or maybe Laura is softening me. I don't fucking know. All I know is that being here isn't nearly as intolerable as I thought it would be. I've mainly stuck to the edges of the set, keeping to myself since the set meeting ended an hour ago. But being here feels a little like coming home. I didn't expect that. I expected it to hurt a whole helluva lot more, truth be told.

For months after the accident, I woke in a cold sweat, plagued by nightmares. The sounds of the trailer caving in on me haunted my mind. Small spaces gave me full-fledged panic attacks. The myriad of bandages and the never-ending parade of surgeons and specialists drove me insane. All I wanted to do was fucking forget what happened to me, but it was everywhere.

I was almost relieved when people stopped coming around. When they stopped asking how I was doing. It allowed me to move on and put it behind me. I just never realized until today how far I'd moved on. It doesn't hurt like it used to hurt. Being back on a film set feels good in a strange sort of way.

It's bittersweet.

I round a corner and nearly bowl down Audrey…at least I think that's her name. She works in hair or makeup or something like that. I wasn't paying attention when everyone was introduced. I was too busy staring at Laura. She thinks it's hilarious that someone interrupted us before I got to eat her cunt in her trailer. She'll change her tune when I finally get my hands on her.

"Shit, sorry." I take a quick step back into the shadows out of habit, not that it matters. Everyone here has already seen the scar across my face. There were a few uncomfortable stares and lingering looks. No one commented on it, though. Then again, they usually don't say anything to my face. They wait until my back is turned to start whispering.

"You look lost," she says, giving me a friendly smile. She focuses on my eyes, barely even glancing at the scar. Interesting.

"Not lost," I mutter.

She ignores my surly attitude and presses forward with the conversation. "You're Kaiden, right? Kaiden Huxley?"

"I am," I growl and then huff out a breath. Fuck. I'm being an ass. I'm trying to rejoin society, not make everyone hate me. I need people to root for my relationship with Laura, not go out of their way to destroy her reputation for choosing to be with me. I don't get the impression this woman would do that, but still. I'm supposed to be playing nice. "Sorry." I grimace apologetically. "Yeah, I'm Kaiden."

"I'm Audrey Jones. It's been a long time since you were on a set, hasn't it?" she asks softly.

I jerk my head in a nod.

She smiles kindly. "Well, I'm happy to see you back on one, Kaiden." Her expression turns knowing. "And so is your girl."

"My girl?" We've been on set for all of an hour and a half. How the fuck does work travel so fast? Not that I personally object to the world knowing she's mine. Fuck no, I don't. But I don't want to make her life more difficult than it already is, especially right now.

The last thing she needs is to be linked to someone like me.

"If you're looking for her, she's over in Wardrobe," Audrey says instead of answering. "They're fitting her for tomorrow."

"Thanks." My gaze flicks over her shoulder as Luca Regis, the director, spots us. His eyes narrow as he looks between us, his broad shoulders tensing. His gaze lingers on me for a moment, cool and assessing. Even from here, I can read the hot stamp of possession in them, the territorial warning. Ah, goddammit. He's read the situation all wrong, and he's pissed.

Right on cue, he charges toward us like a bull, his dark eyes spitting fire.

Audrey glances over her shoulder at him.

I decide to beat a hasty retreat. The last thing I need is to piss off the director on day one, especially over a woman I have no interest in pursuing. Laura owns me, heart and soul. He's welcome to this one.

"Erm…which way is Wardrobe?" I ask Audrey.

Luca steps up beside Audrey, spearing me with a dark look. "How would Audrey know? She's hair and makeup. Wardrobe is Edie's department."

"Right," I mutter, shaking my head. Guess I'll be finding it by my damn self then.

Halfway to Wardrobe, Laura's love interest in the movie stumbles out of his trailer with his assistant hot on his trail. Abel Clarke. He's one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. He's also one that can't seem to stay out of the papers. Everyone has an opinion on Clarke, and most aren't great. He's known for being difficult.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about the fact that he's starring alongside Laura in this movie. It has nothing to do with his dark good looks and everything to do with his reputation. The last thing she needs right now is a bad boy on his redemption tour fucking this up for her. And I'm not nearly dumb enough to believe he decided to do this movie of his own free will. I'm guessing he's one more scandal from serious trouble, and this is him paying his dues.

"They're going to make such a good couple," a woman sighs.

I whip my head in her direction. "Who?"

She turns wide eyes on me, blinking as if just noticing me. Her gaze darts to the scar across my cheek, her heavily made-up face paling slightly. I don't know who she is. She wasn't there when Laura introduced me earlier. And then I see the studio badge clipped to her shirt. Loraine Templeton. Production Assistant. She works for Heart & Soul.

"Oh, um, Abel and Laura," she says.

"They aren't together," I grit out through clenched teeth.

"Oh! Of course, of course," she stammers. "I mean their characters. People are going to go crazy when they see them on screen together, you know. He's so freaking hot. And she's gorgeous. Audiences will eat it up. Especially once they see that sex scene in the candy shop." She fans her face and laughs. "It's going to be the talk of the town!"

My brows pull together in a dark scowl. Fucking hell. She has a sex scene with him. I mean, I knew she had a sex scene with him. But I didn't think about the ramifications of her having a sex scene with him. He'll be touching her. People will see them together. People will see her.

"Are…are you growling?" Loraine asks.

"Where the fuck is a copy of this script?"

Loraine shuffles through the stack of papers in her arms and thrusts a copy of the script at me. I take it and spin on my heel, stomping back toward Laura's trailer. I fling myself inside, my heart pounding. I want to hunt Abel down and break his pretty face. But I can't do that. Laura will fucking kill me. And it's not like he's even done anything wrong anyway. I'm rational enough to realize that, even with possessive jealousy roiling through me in a dark cloud.

Instead, I read through the scene, said jealousy eating me alive. This is her job. I knew that when I fell in love with her. I'll swallow my own goddamn tongue before I ask her to quit, especially right now. But fuck my life. I did not consider the fact that I'd have to be here and see this scene unfold when I took this job. If I had….

If I had, nothing. I'd still be here. Fuck. I'd still be right goddamn here. It doesn't fucking matter if he touches her for a movie. It doesn't matter if he pretends to make out with her or if he pretends to fuck her. And I don't give a fuck if every viewer on the planet sees it and cooks up some fantasy of the two of them living happily ever after. It'll never happen.

She's my little shining star. No sex scene and no movie will change that. Neither will Abel Clarke. I don't care if he is "freaking hot," as Loraine said.

I fling the script across the trailer, scrubbing my hands down my face.

"Get it together, Kaiden," I mutter to myself. It doesn't help. Truth is…I'm losing my mind here. Since the day I met Laura, I've been in a freefall. Long dormant instincts have taken over. Jealousy and hot possession ride me every minute of the day. All I think about is her. All I dream about is her. Half of me wants to keep her all to myself. The other half wants to shout from the rooftops that she's mine and no one else can have her.

The two sides constantly war with one another. Knowing she's being dragged through the mud is fucking me up. I don't like it at all. She deserves the world. This woman was made to be adored. And goddamn, how I adore her.

If her name is going to be linked to anyone else's in the press, I want it to be mine. Not Abel Clarke's, not some other actor, but mine. The man who fucking worships the ground she walks on. I'm in love with her, and I want everyone to know it.

Until the day I got trapped in that fucking trailer, I never cared what people thought about me. I did what I wanted to do, and I didn't make apologies for it. But I've spent the last ten years caring too goddamn much. Now, I'm frozen by inaction when it counts the most, terrified that Laura's reputation will take a hit if she's linked to me.

But her reputation is already taking a hit, isn't it? She's already suffering, isn't she? People are already saying vile shit about her. And still, I'm letting their opinions shape our future. I'm allowing what they might have to say dictate what I do.

It's bullshit.

People don't have to like me. They don't have to think I deserve her. I don't care if they tear me to shreds in the papers or say she can do better. Maybe there are a thousand other men out there who look better than I do. It doesn't matter because not a single fucking one of them will ever love her harder or worship her like I do. That much, I can guarantee.

Let them do their worst. It won't change a fucking thing.

I'm claiming my girl. It'll be my name linked to hers or no ones.

Anyone who doesn't like it can get fucked.