Page 108 of Doctor’s Forbidden Match

“I got cast for season two.”

She squeals and nearly drops the basket. “Hannah! I’m so happy for you.”

I grin, her excitement infectious.

“Thank you. They’re filming the next series in Beacon. Same network, bigger budget because of how well this season is going.”

This is proof that I’m not just the girl from the competition show anymore.

“That’s insane, Han.” She squeezes my arm. “You did that. Nobody handed that to you.”

“It’s the same host role with Dain again, though.”

Brooke’s smile falters slightly. “Oh, that sucks.”

“I know.” I sigh. “But it’s another season of experience. More credit. I keep telling myself that’s how this works. You put in the reps before you get to the chair you actually want.” Uneasiness rolls in my stomach, reminding me of the night Zac asked if I’d ever consider directing. I haven’t been able to let it go ever since.

“As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

We pay and head out, Brooke holding the bag as we cross the lot toward the car.

That’s when I see him.

Zac.

He’s coming out of the hardware store, across the street, a bag in one hand, wearing jeans and a navy Henley that fits him way too well. His hair is slightly messy, like he’s been running his hands through it, and even from here, I can see the way he moves with that easy confidence.

I freeze.

“Hannah?” Brooke follows my line of sight.

“It’s him,” I whisper to Brooke. “Zac.”

“Oh, shit.”

He glances up and looks straight at me. His steps slow.

Every rational thought I’ve had for the past few days about giving him space, not making this harder, and waiting for the investigation to end disappears the moment I lock eyes with him. Now all I can think about is the sound of his voice in the texts I’ve re-read too many times, the pain of not having him on set or at the house, all the times I’ve wondered what he’s doing and whether he’s okay, and if I miss you too meant exactly what I hoped it did.

My heart slams against my ribs.

“Whoa,” Brooke says beside me.

My legs are moving before I can think about it. I’m walking right up to him, crutches moving faster than they should. He’s doing the same thing, crossing the street, and we meet in the middle of the sidewalk, stopping inches apart. I’m a little out of breath, and it has nothing to do with moving so quickly.

His blue eyes hold mine, and there’s relief there, the corners crinkling slightly in a way I haven’t seen since before all of this started.

“Hi,” I rasp, suddenly aware of how breathless I sound.

“Hi. How are you?” he asks, looking over me, as if inspecting for new injuries.

“I’m good. No accidents,” I answer when what I actually want to say is I miss you.

“Good.” His lips quirk before he looks past me to Brooke.

“Oh, sorry. This is Brooke, my friend.” I gesture with my head since my hands are occupied.