We smile for the cameras, stopping to answer questions where we need to. He smiles and nods, but doesn’t say much, deferring questions to me when they’re directed at him.
“Why are you still putting on this show? We all know this relationship was never real.”
I look the reporter up and down, stepping forward to address the absurd question. I’m too fired up to think about how much I might regret this in the morning.
“That’s a pretty big assumption. The only two people who know the status of our relationship is me and him. And that’s all that matters. We’re here. We’re together, so take your pictures and move on. It’s none of your damn business.”
My silky red skirt swishes around my ankles as I spin around and step back over to Quint. My hands are shaky and my heart is racing from the adrenaline of the confrontation but I’m okay. Or I will be.
Quint grabs my trembling hand, giving it a squeeze, and hustles us through the last few feet of red carpet, guiding me through the door with his hand on the small of my back.
“You okay?” he whispers against my ear once we’re inside the safety of the dimly lit theater.
“Yes, I am. Now that you’re here.”
“I’m sure glad about that. I half expected you to turn me away on the red carpet.”
I lead him through the crowd and over to an alcove under the stairs that I’ve escaped to a few times before.And as soon as I have him to myself, I push up on my toes to give him a kiss.
It tastes sweeter than any single kiss before. We move in sync, pushing and pulling, exploring each other’s mouths as if we can’t breathe without the other. I’ve started to think maybe that’s the truth. Maybe I can’t breathe when he’s not around. Not anymore. Not now that I know what it’s like with him at my side.
We finally part, breathless and heated. “I’m so sorry,” I say, running a palm down his sculpted cheek.
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I know it was your publicist that spilled the news to the press, and I also know you fired her.”
“Wait, what? How do you know all that?”
He looks a little sheepish. “Me and Sav had to talk about something to pass the time on the way here.”
I glance around the crowded lobby, but don’t see any sign of my flame-haired friend.
“Makes sense. Just hope my new publicist will actually keep my best interests in mind. But that’s not what I was apologizing for. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner about what was going on in my head. It was just messy and disorganized, and I was so busy filming. I knew I couldn’t just send you a text about it. That wouldn’t have been fair. But then I was worried you’d give up on me after all I’ve put you through.”
He slides one hand up to cup the back of my head, staring deep into my eyes. “Give up? After all we’ve been through together? What kind of man do you think I am?”
I shift back on my heels. “It’s not about you. It’s my brain, constantly on high alert. Always looking for the next threat. I make up these wild scenarios in my head. Worst-case type stuff. But I’m working on getting better at recognizing when I’m catastrophizing.”
“That sounds exhausting. I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”
My chest aches in a good way. So many people over the years have told me to get over it, or implied that I’m the problem, denied the issue. Not Quint. He’s immediately in my corner. He believes me and he’s not afraid to admit it.
“Thank you,” I say, dropping my forehead to his chest. “Thank you so much.”
He drops a kiss on the top of my head, murmuring into my ear. “You don’t need to thank me for anything. I love you, Hollywood, and I’d do anything for you. There’s been times before I thought I was in love. But I was dead wrong. Because nothing has ever felt like this. No one else has ever felt like they belonged in my arms the way you do.”
He loves me. I knew it in the back of my head. I’ve known it for quite some time but actually hearing it out loud at last hits me hard.
He holds my hand during the showing. It’s always strange seeing myself on screen. Because I know it’s me. I remember filming the scenes, but at the same time, I’m disconnected from her, because she’s fictional. Somebody whose mind I inhabited for a time.
It’s an action movie, so there are some pretty intense moments, and I can feel the tension in Quint every time my character’s life is in jeopardy.
And it seems good, it seems right. Like maybe we can make this work.
Until it’s time to leave.
“Did you want to grab something to eat?” he asks as we’re moving through the crowd of celebrities in luxe gowns and suits.
I look up at him. “I can have Glenna pick us something up after we get home.”
