Sam gestures for me to close my eyes again and gets towork clearing up the smudgy mess. “He’s a good man, you know.”
“I know.”
“Amanda and I have been rooting for the two of you to hook up from the beginning.”
I groan. “Please tell me you did not place bets on my sex life.”
“Oh, we totally placed bets on your sex life.” He dabs on eyeliner. “Open up for me, babe.”
We sit in silence for a minute while Sam applies a new layer of mascara to my eyelashes.
The tension must still be evident, because when Sam steps back and gives me a nod of approval, he doesn’t immediately turn to pack up his things. “Is it really so terrible if the world thinks the two of you are dating, sweetie?”
I think about the question before offering my response. “I guess I should’ve expected it. The public and the paparazzi have been a part of my life since the day I was born. I’m used to people speculating about me, watching my every move.”
“That sounds like a lot of pressure.”
“It was. It is.” I shrug, trying to brush it all off. “I know everyone is paying close attention to this movie anyway, what with it being my first one post-Oscar and my first time really acting. Maybe it’s just a bad idea to give them all one more thing I could fail at, you know?”
“Oh, honey.” Sam pulls me up from my chair and wraps me in a huge hug. “You are the opposite of a failure. And if I may pull out some Hallmark-card wisdom, the only way you can fail at love is by not letting it into your life.”
I gently remove myself from his embrace so I don’t start crying again. “You should get that stitched on a pillow.”
He winks at me. “I just might.”
“Thank you, Sam. For the touch-up and the advice. You’re a miracle worker.”
“I have been told that before.” He blows me a kiss and heads back out to set, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I still don’t know much of anything, but I do think Sam and my mom are right. Maybe it’s time to let some love into my life.
Chapter Seventeen
The conversation with my mom runs on a constant loop in my mind for the rest of the day, and the moment Liz calls cut on our final scene, I turn on my heel and run. Well, I turn on my heel and walk as fast as I can without slipping on the frozen ground and killing and/or humiliating myself.
So unsurprisingly, Grayson is able to catch up to me with just a few of his extra-long strides.
“Let’s go get dinner in town tonight.”
“You want to go get dinner in public on the same day a blog posted an article about us possibly being in a relationship?” Like I even give a shit about the stupid blog post at this point. I’m really just irritated with it for making me think about things I was perfectly fine not thinking about.
“We are in a relationship.” The words sound so calm, so confident coming from his perfect lips, half of me envies his surety.
The other half is annoyed he assumes such a thing without asking me first.
I speed up my pace, attempting to put some distance between us. “Are we?”
He hooks a finger through one of the belt loops on my jeans, tugging me to a stop and ultimately catching me when I slip due to the sudden motion. He leans down to kiss me, but I pull away. Not because I don’t want to kiss him, but because we are still on set and surrounded by people and he still hasn’t answered my question.
“I seem to recall you mentioning I could kiss you whenever I want.”
“Grayson...” I attempt to remove myself from his hold, but the action only sends me sliding on the ice again.
And of course, he is there to catch me. Of course he is there to steady me, even when pure, unfiltered hurt shines out of his gaze, knocking me back a step.
Suddenly, everything else around us—the trailers, the crew, the cameras, the lights—all of it fades to a silent black hole, and there is only Grayson and me, and I hate that I made him feel that way.
“Do you not want to be seen in public with me, Ems? Do you not want people to know about us?” His voice is so quiet, so rough, I have to lean in closer to hear him.
