“Patience, Sunshine.” His voice is warm, teasing. “It’s a surprise.”
I settle back into the plush leather seat, content to watch as the city unfolds around us. Despite the fact that it’s a Sunday night, the streets are still alive with people spilling out of restaurants and couples walking hand in hand. But here inside our little bubble, with the windows tinted and the music low, it’s like we’re in our own private little world.
Twenty minutes later, Rowan turns off the main road,guiding the SUV up a steep, narrow path that winds higher and higher. Just as the trees start to thin out, the world opens up to a breathtaking panoramic view of Los Angeles spread out before us.
Rowan parks and cuts the engine.
“Wow,” I gasp.
The silence that follows is profound. No sounds of traffic, no other voices. Just the soft hush of our breathing.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmurs softly.
“It’s incredible.” I glance at him. “How did you find this place?”
Keeping his eyes fixated on the view, he grins. “When I first moved here, I used to drive around a lot. Getting lost on purpose, trying to get to know the city. Found this spot my second week here.”
Drawn to the view, I unbuckle my seatbelt. “Can we get out?”
“Of course.”
We step out into the cool night air. The temperature has dropped at least ten degrees. I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly grateful I kept the flannel. Rowan shrugs off his jacket, placing it around my shoulders.
“Thanks,” I murmur, pulling it tighter. Warm from his body heat, it emits his familiar scent of citrus and spice.
We lean against the hood, shoulders touching as we take it all in. From up here, the city looks almost peaceful. Streets flow with rivers of white and red, moving like tiny fireflies, forming patterned grids of light.
“I used to come up here a lot,” Rowan murmurs. “Especially when I first started getting recognized. When everything got too overwhelming, I’d drive up here and just... breathe.”
Surprised by the vulnerability in his voice, I glance over at him. “How hard was it?”
“Everyone thinks fame is the dream.” He lets out a short, humorless laugh. “And, sure, parts of it are amazing. But there’s a price. The constant scrutiny, the loss of privacy, the way people look at you differently...” He trails off, eyes still fixed on the horizon.
fifty-seven
Lizzy scoots over,and I wrap my arm around her shoulders. Leaning my head against hers, I let out a happy hum.
“What’s the full story between you and Walker?” she asks suddenly, turning to face me.
I blow out a long breath. “It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got time,” she says, curious eyes shining bright.
“It all started a little over fourteen years ago,” I begin, the memory still a bitter taste in my mouth. “We were both up for the same role in ‘Midnight & Daisy.’ It was my first big audition after a string of smaller parts. It was the role of a lifetime—one that could’ve launched my whole career.”
She nods, studying my face as I continue.
“Walker was a nobody back then, just like me. We’d met a couple times at parties, exchanged the usual pleasantries. Nothing special or anything.” I shake my head, remembering how naïve I’d been. “We even grabbed drinks a few times after our auditions. I actually thought we were on our way to becoming friends.”
“What changed?”
“Everything.” Ironically, the memory plays out like a moviein my head. “The night before the final callback, Walker calls me up, says he’s got some notes from his acting coach that might help both of us, and invites me over to his shitty apartment in West Hollywood.”
Lizzy stiffens. “Right. Let me guess. He sabotaged you?”
I shift my stance against the car. “Yup. So one night, I show up at his place, and he’s all smiles, offering me a beer and shit. We start running lines together, and he’s giving me these ‘tips’—telling me my delivery is too intense, that the director wants something more subtle. So, grateful for his help, I toned it down.”
Her eyes narrow into slits. “Not what the director wanted, I’ll bet.”
