Chapter 36

Hayden

The mountingdread I've been feeling as the end of shooting draws closer evaporates after Victoria agrees that our relationship can continue beyond our filming end date. I feel lighter. Happier. The grass looks greener, the sky looks bluer, and even the setbacks of filming don't bother me like they typically would.

I feel amazing.

And I'm bursting to tell everyone that we're together, but we didn't actually discuss how that part will work, so I hold off. For now.

Eventually we'll have to take our relationship public, but it's not imperative that it happen now. And as much as I wouldn't mind making a big announcement, that's not really necessary. We can just stop hiding and sneaking around and let everyone discover what's going on for themselves.

When Victoria's on set the next day, I grin like an idiot every time I see her. So much so that everyone starts to notice, including Brady, who's been so distracted with running everything that he hasn't noticed anything else lately.

During one of our breaks, he sidles over to me and sits in a chair, sipping a bottle of water. "So," he starts.

Finishing the sandwich I'm eating, I brush the crumbs off my hands, eyebrows raised. "Do you need something, Brady?"

He shakes his head, staring out over the people milling around the set, getting it ready for the next shot. "No. I just noticed you smiling a lot today. Any developments you want to fill me in on?"

Rubbing my hand over my mouth, I contemplate just telling him. It's obvious he knows. He's suspected for a while, and my behavior today has only served to confirm those suspicions. But even so, I can't tell him. Not yet. Not when Victoria's just agreed that this is more than a fling. I don't want to screw it up already. So I shake my head. "Not at the moment, no."

He turns to face me, eyebrows raised in surprise. "No? Really?" He looks around like he's searching for someone, but I don't know if he finds whoever he's looking for, because he turns back to me, leaning in close and lowering his voice. "You seem"—he tilts his head to the side—"distracted? Or … smitten, maybe?"

I snort. "Smitten?" He's right, though. I am.

"Mmhmm. Smitten." He points at me with the mouth of his bottle. "That's exactly it. You're smitten. Are your feelings returned?"

Shaking my head, I look away. "I really can't talk about this right now, Brady." It's not a lie, at least.

He's silent for a long beat, studying me. "Okay," he says, his voice light. "I think I understand. When you can talk about it, please come find me."

I nod. "I will." I watch him walk away. He knows. We both know he knows. But since I won't confirm or deny anything, he'll keep his knowledge to himself. For now. As long as no one gets him drunk and asks the right questions, anyway.

Since he's sworn off alcohol for the time being, I'm not too worried about that possibility. And by the time he starts drinking again, there shouldn't be a need for more secrecy.

Unable to wait for her to come find me in my trailer later, I glance at the time. I still have ten minutes before I'm needed, so I head to the costume trailer. I'll make up some excuse about a hole in a seam or something if anyone asks where I'm going or why.

But no one stops me, though I catch Brady watching me, and yeah, if he had any lingering doubts, I'm effectively erasing them right now. But I don't care. I'm too happy to care.

When I get to the costume trailer, Mia and Victoria are both there. Mia glances between the two of us and mumbles something I don't hear before leaving, all my attention on Victoria. Victoria apparently catches whatever Mia says, though, because she responds with a smile, though her eyes never leave mine. "Thanks, Mia."

Once the door closes behind Mia, Victoria's grin grows, and she makes her way through the racks of costumes into my arms.

Everything about this feels right, and I can't wait until we don't have to hide anymore. "When can we tell people?" I ask, hugging her tightly.

"What?" She sounds genuinely confused.

I pull back, looking down at her. "About us. When can we stop hiding?"

She steps out of my hold, her brow furrowed, and she refuses to meet my eyes. "Oh, uh …" Turning away, she scratches behind her ear. "I'm not sure."

Sighing, I cross my arms. "Please, Victoria. We can't keep the secret much longer. Not just because we're planning on continuing our relationship, but because the longer this goes on, the more likely it is that someone else will catch us or figure it out on their own. Brady already has."

That gets her attention, and she faces me, eyes wide. "What? What did you tell him? When? How?"

I hold up my hands. "Nothing. I didn't tell him anything. But he sees the way I look at you. He's noticed that I can't keep my eyes off you when you're around. He's asking questions. I haven't answered them, not really, because we hadn't discussed this. But he knows. He knows me well enough, and he's not stupid, even if he pretends to be a doofus for the cameras and the press."

Biting her lip, she nods, and I see her throat working as she swallows.

"Did you really not consider this?" I ask softly.

She gives me a pleading look, lifting a hand in a helpless gesture. "Sort of? I mean, I thought about how to tell Erin and my parents and how people in town would react. I didn't think about this, though. And even when I thought about it, it was—" She stops herself, biting her lip again.

"It was what?"

Turning away, she shrugs. "It was after you were gone."

That has me rocking back on my heels. "You don't want to tell people until after I leave?" That doesn't make sense to me, and I think that's clear in my voice because she turns to me, her lips parted, her eyes wide again.

"I don't know, Hayden. I don't know how to do any of this. I've barely dated in the last ten years, and when I have it's been a few dates here and there, no one I wanted to tell anyone about, no one I wanted to introduce to my daughter. I don't even know how to be in a relationship. And this whole time, you've occupied this one slice." She puts her hands together, illustrating the narrow space I've been slotted into. "And now you want to invade the whole pie." She throws her hands wide.

"Invade?" She thinks I'm invading?

"No." She holds up a hand. "That's not what I meant."

I take a step back, shaking my head slowly. "I think that's exactly what you meant."

She covers her face with her hands, shaking her head. "No," she protests quietly. "It really isn't. I know you just want to be included. I'm just …"

"What?" The word comes out as a sharp demand, but I don't even care anymore. She accused me of wanting to invade her life. I get to demand an explanation.

When she drops her hands, her expression is stubborn and angry. "I'm scared, okay? I'm terrified that you'll leave and decide none of this is worth it. That you only want to be with me while you're here because it's convenient and fun. That once you're gone, you'll realize that I'm boring and—and plain! That all of this was just a fling. And then I'll have told everyone about us for nothing!"

I flinch at her words, taking another step back. "I see."

"Do you?" she asks, eyes flashing. "Do you really? Because none of this upends your life the way it does mine."

"None of this upends my life? Are you joking right now?"

She throws her arms wide. "How? How does this change anything for you? You're still a famous movie star. You get to jet off and do glamorous movie star things, while I stay here scraping teeth, making lunches, and taking my kid to school and day camp and art classes. Getting pitying looks because I deluded myself into thinking I could live out my own Cinderella story."

"Why are you so worried about what everyone else thinks? What about what you think? What I think?"

Her face turns pained. "Because I have to live here. I have to endure the pity and the judgment and the well-meant attempts at set-ups and well-intended advice that doesn't fit at all. Day in and day out. I have everything to lose."

"And nothing to gain?"

She shakes her head in a sharp negative. "No. A lot to gain, but it's hard to believe it's possible." She wraps her arms around herself and sucks in a breath, holds it, then lets it out slowly. "Brit, my best friend, told me not to sabotage this chance at happiness. And I told her I wouldn't. But I'm afraid I don't know how to stop myself. I'm afraid I'm ruining everything right now. But I'm scared. Scared of what happens if we work out, and equally scared of what happens if we don't. I'm afraid I've set myself up to get hurt no matter what. And I feel all alone on the edge of a cliff, and every way I turn ends up with me crashing down to the bottom."

I swallow thickly. "Why didn't you say anything? Before?"

She unwraps one hand to hold it out, palm up. "How could I? How could you interpret this conversation as anything other than a breakup?"

My eyebrows jump and my mouth goes dry. "Is that what this is?" My voice is gravel. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"No. I don't want to. That's not what I want at all."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want …" She looks around, as though the answer to that question is hidden in the folds of the costumes surrounding us. "I want to know how this will work. I want it to work, but I don't understand how it's possible. And I want to know I'm not alone in risking my whole world."

I chance a step closer. "You're not alone."

She looks up at me, eyes liquid with unshed tears. "I'm not?"

Shaking my head, I reach for her hand, needing some amount of contact. "No. I'm standing right there with you. I'm ready to uproot my life if you'll let me. I'll grant you that our situations aren't the same. That I risk more of my regular day-to-day life by us working out than not. If you don't want to be with me, things will continue on much the same as they've always been. But I won't be the same.

"Being with you has changed me. You've given me a chance at a life I've always wanted but has always been just out of reach. I love you, Victoria. And I want to build a life with you that works for both of us. I know I'm asking a lot of you. I know it's a big risk. And you don't have to change anything you don't want to. I'll move here. Get my own place until you're ready to move in together. Stay here any time I don't need to be somewhere else. Yes, I'll have to travel. I'll have to be gone for work sometimes. But I'll always come home to you."

A tear slips from her eyes. "Promise?" There's so much cautious hope in her voice that it almost breaks my heart.

I pull her close and wrap my arms around her. "Promise." Wiping the tear away, I bend my head and capture her lips in a kiss that I hope communicates the sincerity of my promise every bit as much as my voice.

Because this—a relationship with someone who wants me for myself and not my connections, something that feels normal and safe and good—is what I've always wanted. This is it for me. Forever.