They broke away from the wall and started walking back through the corridor, his hand steady against her waist. Grounding her—and setting her alight.
Emma glanced at him as they walked. Writing let her take a step back, start over, and reset to zero without consequences. But this? She couldn’t edit this into something neat or predictable. And she was already in far too deep to go back, well past safety nets and control.
But if this was what real felt like . . .
Maybe safe wasn’t what she wanted anymore.
Chapter 35
Nothing stays secret for long.
For a few precious minutes, the world stayed silent.
They walked side by side through the narrow corridor, Emma’s lips still tingling from the kiss. Her heartbeat felt different—slower, heavier—like something fundamental in her rhythm had shifted.
Darren’s hand stayed on her waist, his thumb rubbing patterns through the suit. Every so often, Emma caught him glancing at her. Each time, his mouth curved into a smile, and a small ripple of warmth went through her.
For the last few days, she’d been in the spotlight, in front of hundreds of fans. Yet she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so truly seen as she did under his quiet gaze.
Emma’s phone buzzed against her thigh, where she had stashed it in one of the stillsuit’s countless pockets. She pulled it out, finding a text from Leah.
Meet me outside the cafeteria lounge. Now.
Just that. No exaggerations, no emojis, no exclamation points. Emma frowned, slowing to a stop and showing it to Darren.
“Alright,” he said. “Let’s go see what she wants.”
“We should probably change back first,” Emma said. The tone of Leah’s text hinted at a conversation she’d rather not have in cosplay. “That break room should be just up ahead.”
Darren made a face. “Didn’t think we’d come back this way. I asked Sienna to grab our clothes. She’ll be upstairs somewhere.”
“Oh,” Emma said, voice hollow.
He brushed his thumb over her arm, reassuring. “Hey. I’m sure it’s nothing. Let’s just go talk to her.”
The corridor ended at a staircase that took them straight into the backstage area. They turned a corner to find Leah waiting just outside the cafeteria, arms crossed, phone in hand. The grim look on her face made Emma’s chest seize up tight.
“Leah,” she said, trying for light. “Is everything okay?”
Leah looked up, eyes traveling between them in their stillsuits. “Not really.” She didn’t show the slightest bit of surprise at seeing them in costumes. “Seems we’re making a habit out of meeting like this.”
When they reached her, she handed her phone to Emma without a word, screen still glowing.
Emma’s stomach lurched, nausea washing through her.
A grainy, zoomed-in phone shot was open on the screen. The subject of the photo was blurry but unmistakable.
She and Darren, pressed together in their stillsuits—caught mid-kiss. The angle put the photographer just a bit further down the corridor where they had just been.
“Oh my god.” Emma’s voice came out strangled. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Leah, I—”
Darren swore under his breath. “The paparazzo. He must have seen where we went in and tipped someone off on the inside.”
“There was a paparazzo?” Leah said coldly, her brows arching.
He pointed sharply at the phone. “This is a serious NDA violation. Backstage photos are strictly forbidden for all crew members. Whoever took this is about to face some real consequences.”
“Oh, trust me, I’m on it.” The look Leah aimed at him was sharp enough that Emma blinked in surprise. “But what the actual hell were you thinking? I told you to keep a low profile, and you go out runningaround on the freaking Con floor? Instillsuits? It’s not five minutes since this photo dropped, and my phone is already a nuclear meltdown. Do you haveanyidea what kind of risk you were taking? And I’m not even talking about PR. It’s absolute madness out there. What about basic security?”
