“Are you freaking kidding me?”
My heart skipped a beat. My mouth dropped open.
It was him. I knew it instantly.
I couldn’t move. Zero control of my body. I wondered if I was having a stroke.
It felt like I’d known that voice for years, though it was the first time it had ever touched my ears. I spotted the actor, Chris Jones, pushing through the crowd with an infuriated look on his face. He looked almost exactly like the man from my daydreams, except for that full beard and displeased gaze that was different and unsettlingly real.
My eyes roamed his body in a matter of seconds. The muscles rippling under his navy sweater. The broad shoulders and freckled neck. He was so tall that he towered over his own enormous guards. He was even hotter in person.
Was I flushing? Yes, yes, I was.
My body couldn’t decide if it should freak out because I was a crazed fan meeting my Hollywood obsession or because it was short-circuiting over the fact that the person standing in front of me was real. Not a daydream. Not a figment of my overactive imagination. The one I had held full-blown conversations with… while completely alone.
My cheeks burned hotter. Fantastic.
Chris placed a hand on the guard’s shoulder. We could all feel his impatience radiating.
“Hey, friend, do you mind? I’m late.”
The man flustered. “Sorry, sir, I…”
Chris, visibly furious, was about to brush past him and rejoin the center of the security circle when his gaze fell on me. For a split second, time seemed to freeze.
I was wrong before.Thiswas how a stroke must feel.
I wanted to break eye contact, but his eyes were the most absurd shade of turquoise. They were so stupidly identical to how I’d pictured them in my head. For a second, I forgot how to breathe. I had to remind myself to inhale because all I could think about was how much I wanted to dive straight into them and disappear.
The anger drained from his face, replaced by a look of utter shock. His skin went paper pale, like he’d seen a ghost. If he wasn’t staring straight into my eyes, I’d think something wild was happening right behind me. I would’ve turned to check… if I could tear my eyes away from his. A couple of seconds of silence felt like hours.
“Jules?” His voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.
Before I could comprehend what was happening, another guard stepped in and pulled him back into the protective circle. A petite, sharp-eyed woman in business attire and a sleek ponytail tugged him along. But even as she dragged him forward, Chris remained looking back.
Looking at…me.
As suddenly as he’d appeared, he was gone, swallowed up by the crowd as his team hurried him away. And I stood there, frozen, my mind spinning. The world around me blurred, one hand holding tightly to Liam’s and another rushing to cover my mouth because, for a moment there, I thought I would throw up.
Beside me, Carol’s expression mirrored my shock.
“What was that?” She finally asked.
I opened my mouth, but the words tangled in my throat. “I…” I could feel my heartbeat, not just in my neck but pulsing in my eyeballs.
“How does Chris Jones know your name?”
My mind reeled, grasping for an explanation.
“I… I don’t know.”
I wasn’t lying. Was I daydreaming again? With me, the line between reality and fantasy was so fragile that I couldn’t be sure.
I realized I was holding Liam’s hand a little too tight, so I let it go. I glanced down and dug my nails into my palms, savoring the sharp sting. I took a slow breath, letting the sensation wash over me and trying to shake off the fog. This wasn’t the time to fall apart. I had to focus on my kid.
Crouching down to his level, I softened my voice.
“Are you okay, honey? Do you want to go?”
