Instead of leaning into my touch, he straightens and runs a hand through his hair. “Got it?”
“Mm-hmm,” I reply, turning around before he can see the blush on my cheeks. Stupid overactive imagination.
There’s a pause. I wonder if he felt the same crackling electricity between us, or if he’s just feeling awkward.
“Do you want me to leave, now that Agatha’s been up here?” he asks, his voice a whisper behind me.
I shrug a shoulder but still don’t turn to face him. “I’m good either way.”
He doesn’t move, and I realize with suddendread that I don’t want him to leave. Especially not like this, not because we were interrupted by Agatha and it’s awkward between us.
I paste a smile on my face and turn to face him. “We never watched your stunts inStarting Tomorrow, though.”
A slow grin spreads across his mouth, and he tips his head toward the TV. “Then let’s do it.”
CHAPTER 15
Lily
FRANZ LISZT — CONSOLATION NO. 3 IN D-FLAT MAJOR, S. 172
After watching Ryder’s fight scene inStarting Tomorrow, during which I had to shut my eyes because I hate violence, Ryder asks, “Do you haveAnother Day to Die?”
A knot twists in my stomach at the name of that movie. I shrink into the couch cushions. “Uh, no. I don’t have anything that recent, and especially since the lead is…”
“Tristan Jackson,” he supplies, shaking his head. “I should’ve known better.”
I don’t say anything.
He clears his throat. “I only ask because that was the last movie I worked on before my break.”
I furrow my brow. He worked on that movie with Tristan?
We turn toward each other and start talking at the same time. “Wasn’t that back in—” I say, just as Ryder says, “That’s why I said?—”
We both pause and smirk at each other.
“You first,” he says.
“I was going to say, wasn’t that back when…well, that’s the movie he was working on when everything happened with us.” It feels almost like a relief to say it to him, to have it out in the open. My brothers and father are so hesitant to even discuss what really happened with me and Tristan. It’s like they want to pretend I didn’t fall in love with someone terrible. We talk about the consequences, keeping me safe, and the current situation. We stay in the present. There’s no exploring the past.
He nods. “It’s interesting timing, for sure.”
“But you haven’t worked on anything since then? It’s been almost a year and a half.”
His jaw clenches, and he looks back at the TV. “Yeah.”
“What happened?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me. But then I realize I’m prying into his personal business and shrink back. “I mean, never mind. You don’t have to tell me. That’s not?—”
“No, it’s fine,” he says. “I should talk about it to someone.” He gives me a sideways grin. “Of all people, you’d probably understand. I know all about your history with him. It’s why I said I believed you after I saw your video.”
“Yeah. Thank you for that.” I swallow. “I haven’t seen the comments or reactions from people since I posted it. I tried to stay away from everything online for a few months. But I know…” I pause, then give a nonchalant shrug. “You know how people are with girls claiming to be manipulated. ‘They had it coming. It’s their own fault.’”
His brow furrows, and he shakes his head at me. He lays a gentle hand on my arm. “No. It’s not your fault.”
I swallow hard, meeting his eyes. But I can’t hold his intensity for long and look down at my lap. “I was stupid,” I mumble.
“Not stupid,” he says. “Maybe a little too trusting, and a touch naive. But you were, what, eighteen?” I nod, and he moves his hand from my arm to under my chin, holding my gaze. “Lily, it wasn’t your fault.”
