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“What?” He questioned.
“In two hours, we will be acting as Blair and Damon, criminals and lovers … does art imitate life, or does life imitate art?”
The corner of his lip turned up, and he put his cigarette out on the drawers. Rolling on top of me, he pinned both of my hands down at the sides of my head. His face hovered so closely to mine that every breath he breathed, I took in.
“Don’t you know, Amelia,” his eyes dropped to my lips, “everybody is a sinner.”
Not even giving me a second to reply, his lips were on mine, his tongue in my mouth, his body pressed up against mine. And I knew then that I was in. The good, the bad, the ugly, and the unspeakable—I was in.
I wouldn’t look back.
I wouldn’t feel guilt.
I would trust him completely.
The old Amelia died with Esther … and I could live with that.
Chapter Two
Noah
I wasn’t sure what she expected to see when we stepped out of our bedroom. Last night, I was able to take her mind off of things easily because she so badly wanted to forget. But this morning, stepping out into the very room her mother had died in, I wasn’t sure how she would react to the fact that it looked like it had never even happened. The broken vase, table, the lamp, the paintings—all of it was gone and replaced with replicas. Even more striking was Austin, dressed in a tan suit and green bow tie, standing in the very spot Esther’s body had been only hours ago and talking casually on the phone. He leaned against the couch as if even he didn’t realize where he was standing.
“Amelia, Oliver wanted me to tell you that he will meet you on set.” He glanced up at us and nodded over to the table where a light breakfast and coffee were waiting.
She nodded, but didn’t move.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her.
Her blue eyes focused on me, staring at me with shock and confusion. I knew she wanted to know how. But I prayed she didn’t ask.
“Nothing. Sorry, I just spaced out for a second.” She forced a smile and then walked over to the table, reaching for a bagel along with the pink script for the morning.
“Oliver called you this morning?” I questioned when Austin stepped closer to me, his back to her.
“Apparently he quit last night.”
“He what?” Hell must have frozen over.
“I’m not sure what happened, but I’m guessing it was before our other issue.” He paused before speaking again. “Neither of you should have stayed here last night.”
“Where else could we have gon
e?” She couldn’t have left in her state, and certainly not before the room had been cleaned.
He sighed, knowing I was right. “You need to remember, Noah—she isn’t like you. She grew up like a princess, the daughter of a star, and then became a star in her own right. But you, no matter how long you’ve lived as a celebrity, will always be from the Southbend.”
My jaw and fists tensed at what he was implying. The Southbend, the Chicago slums, the trailer parks, the dogs, my good ol’ hometown, where you couldn’t throw a stone without hitting a dealer, stripper, thief, murderer, or the person they murdered. There were two Noah Sloans: one who grew up watching Frank beat the shit out of men with tire irons for simply looking at him the wrong way, and then there was the Noah Sloan—the actor. I had spent my life trying to keep them separate, and now they were colliding faster than I could grasp.
“I’m not trying to piss you off.” He grabbed my arm, drawing my attention. “I’m just trying to remind you that the way you see the world may be different than how she does. To you, this is another skeleton in the closet. To her, the world has flipped on its head.”
“She’ll be fine.”
“Noah—”
“I know her.”
“You knew her … years ago.”
