Gage stopped and moved back, his eyes searching mine. He went to open his mouth but before he could respond, both of our phones went off from a text.
“Ugh, leave them and come back here.” I let out a groan and tried to persuade him back as he moved to grab the phones from the nightstand. Whatever it was, it could wait a few more minutes, or hours.
Of course, he laughed me off and swatted at my hand that kept grabbing at him. Once he had the phones, he tossed me mine as he plopped down next to me.
And what was I supposed to do, besides try and distract him? But he shrugged my arm away and turned to offer me another kiss.
“Come on, Trent, we gotta find out what’s going on.” He was all authoritative and stern, and I had to admit, it was hot as hell to see him like that.
“Whatever write-up or review someone gave the show can wait. Come on babe, let’s go back to kissing.” But he wouldn’t be persuaded, and I had to admit his excitement over seeing whatever it was, was pretty darn cute. Though I couldn’t help the apprehension that flooded my system as well. There was no guarantee whatever was sent to us, was positive and I hoped it wasn’t something that would crush him.
Abandoning my own phone, I hooked my chin on Gage’s shoulder and placed a tender kiss there as he clicked the link one of the PA’s had sent to us. He was practically bouncing as he waited for the page to load but as soon as I caught the title, my heart sank.
“Gage…”
Another ping came through and I tore my gaze away from his screen and looked at my own. It was another message from the PA.
We’re already getting ahead of this. Don’t worry about it. Just thought you should know.
I wanted to text back and tell her no, we didn’t need to know. That she didn’t need to ruin our perfect morning afterglow with an article about whether or not some asshole—who didn’t know anything about the show, or me—thought Gage would be able to replace Allan on the show. From what little I saw, it did mention our obvious chemistry, but it also went over Gage’s lack of experience.
As if that mattered at all.
I looked back up, afraid of what I would see when I did. Gage had gone rigid, his face slack and void of any of the excitement he’d originally had. Worst of all, that light, that spark in Gage’s eyes had vanished. I reached up and cupped his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me.
“Don’t. Don’t let that stupid article—”
“I’m sorry,” Gage said, cutting me off. His voice was hoarse, and I could see the tears that threatened to escape.
My heart stuttered and stopped.
“Don’t do this, baby. Please.” I wasn’t normally one to beg but I couldn’t lose Gage and I refused to give him up without a fight.
He brought his hands up to mine and twined our fingers together, but instead of holding on he pulled my hands down. Shuffling around, he moved to the other side of the bed and started to get dressed.
I watched him as the pieces of my heart he had started to put back together fell back away.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I can’t be someone’s replacement.” He pulled the rest of his clothes on and grabbed his wallet and key, sliding them in his pocket along with his phone.
My voice had left me, and I stared at him, unable to say anything. Because I couldn’t blame him, I wouldn’t want to be someone’s replacement either. But it wasn’t like that—I just didn’t know how to make him see that.
The door closed softly behind him as he fled, and I wondered why the hell that man kept running away from me.
Trent
As I sat at the bar and chugged back another beer, I wondered how such a perfect morning had been ruined so quickly. Things had been rocky to start but then they had certainly turned around once I had manned up and stopped avoiding the subject of Trent’s kiss.
I had known, we both had known, that there would be people who would compare me to Allan. And I thought I’d be able to deal with it. I might have been able to, if I was only his co-star and not his—actually, I don’t even know what I was. We hadn’t even been able to get far enough to get to the point of defining what we had before I had bolted.
Coward, I chastised myself. Because that’s what I was.
I’d blown off the kids’ questions after I’d returned to the room. Thankfully, they’d been asleep, and I had been able to shower and change and pretend I’d come back at some point after they fell asleep. They didn’t question it too much, but I could tell by Madison’s frown as she left that she could tell something was wrong.
When they’d asked if we were still doing the Father’s Day brunch, I declined but told Will he should go if he wanted. He’d been hesitant but I told him I had some work to do, and it hadn’t taken much more persuasion than that.
Of course, as soon as he left, the guilt washed over me. It was Father’s Day, and I couldn’t even be bothered to push aside my own feelings and suck it up for an hour or so to eat together. But I’d be damned if I made my way down to the restaurant with my tail tucked between my legs. I wasn’t sure who I would have been asking for forgiveness. Maybe all of them.
The last thing I knew I should be doing was drowning my sorrows in one of the hotel’s bars at noon on a Sunday. Especially when I had Will with me.
