A writer caught making starry eyes at an actor would hardly be an exception from the Internet Rule of Balance:People doth always find a way to violently disagree.
Yet, this wasn’t just someone’s opinion. This was...fact? Some kind of concrete observation at least. And the name Alana Kelley did ring a bell.
She clicked into the thread with the same instinct as when touching a sore bruise.
As if to prove her theory about internet disagreement, a few comments instantly yelled in all caps to stop ruining their Colehart happy place. But they were drowned out in agreement with the original post, concluding that Emma couldn’t possibly be Darren’s type, given his dating track record.
Several more women were mentioned—one post laid out his full romantic timeline with almost scientific precision—but Alana Kelley dominated the thread. It was also the only name Emma could fully place.
She’d costarred with Darren in one of his early movies, just before Sebastian Vale turned him into a fantasy genre icon. Emma had watched the film a few years back—a mostly forgettable rom-com, saved only by Darren’s face and a steamy scene in a train coupe.
Before she knew it, her fingers typed inDarren Cole Alana Kelleyin the search bar.
She instantly regretted it.
Page after page of paparazzi shots flooded her screen.
Sunny vacations.
Takeout coffee on a snowy street.
Caught kissing at the gym.
Most photos featured him in sunglasses, her in tight-fitting outfits, both of them grinning like they’d been plucked straight from a perfume commercial.
Alana was...stunning. Dark hair. Heart-shaped face. Petite, delicate body. The kind of slender arms Emma had always been a little jealous of.
Viking descendants, her mom had told her in her teens, when she complained about her broad shoulders. And of course, the classic:you should be happy you’re strong.
She’d grown confident enough about her body that she didn’t much care that someone online called her sturdy. Still, it was hard not to notice the difference between her own naturally athletic build and Alana’s feminine, graceful frame.
Emma clicked through a few articles. They’d been everyone’s favorite couple, apparently. Until they weren’t. The latter headlines were louder. Messier. Speculation dressed as fact. Rumors of fights, of jealousy, of someone cheating, though the stories never agreed on who.
Since she’d apparently lost all sense of self-preservation, she googled the other women, too. All were dark-haired and slight. Mostly actresses, a few models.
There was far less coverage of the other rumored relationships. Mostly paparazzi shots, Darren flipping off the photographer in a few. He’d clearly gone more private after Alana.
Emma set the phone down on the comforter, the excited thrill in her body fading.
The very reason she indulged in celebrity or character crushes was that they were safe. But Darren Cole, in the flesh? Looking at her, talking with her—touchingher...
Less safe. Like, the diametric opposite of safe.
Darren had the kind of charisma that could make a brick wall blush. Replace her with the ficus she’d hidden behind yesterday, and the chemistry would probably have been just as electric.
Any straight woman with a pulse would be drawn to him, but to think it was mutual? Delusional. And the Internet hysteria, well, that was just the Coleheads and the Lucen fans cross-pollinating into one massive frenzy.
An image of Darren beaming at a dark-haired model still glowed on her phone. Emma closed the tab. She was a grown woman, for god’ssake. Not a daydreaming fangirl. If he’d put in a little extra charm, there was probably a reason for it—maybe something to do with the casting.
She laid it out in her head, forcing all feelings aside to keep herself rational.
His onstage coup could have been a quickly planned stunt. Max seemed like the type who’d have zero qualms, sly enough beneath that boisterous surface to come up with something like that.
Well, that made more sense. She already knew he’d read the book. He must have heard about the Netflix deal. And Lucenwasa perfect fit for him. Because of reasons that were...purely coincidental.
Emma considered it, pushing down the small twist in her gut. This was a good thing. Darren was her dream casting. And by sheer coincidence, they’d happened to initiate a professional relationship. Who cared that he dated women like Alana Kelley? This was work.
She was good at work.
