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“You’ve been mad at me?” he asked. “This whole time? Why didn’t you say anything?” There was no way they’d ever be able to make this work if she refused to let him know what was going on in her head.
“How could I? You had already left, so it’s not like it would’ve changed anything.”
Chris deflated when she said that, leaning against the counter. There was a very distinct, acute pain in the middle of his chest, and he rubbed at the spot.
“I’m mad that I didn’t get a say. I’m mad that we hardly ever get to talk. I’m mad that I have to wait for everyone else to be done with you before it’s my turn,” she said, pointedly tipping her chin toward the door, where those two women had fought for his attention only minutes ago. “And, in my weakest moments, I wonder if you’re ashamed of me, if you think I’m not good enough or strong enough to be with you.”
“No.” Chris gathered her up in his arms. “God, no. I don’t think that at all. You are everything to me.”
She tilted her head to finally meet his gaze, and her eyes were rimmed with tears. “Then why? Why did you leave without including me?”
With Bronte back in his arms, he realized how much he had missed her. It was like he could breathe again, think clearly again. “I thought by leaving early I was doing what was best.”
“What you thought, huh?”
“Yeah, but that was stupid. We both know you’re the brains in this relationship.” He kissed her temple and crossed his arms around her back, wishing he could go back in time. Maybe kidnap her and steal her away to some deserted island to live out the rest of their days naked under the sun.
“I know this was a self-inflicted wound, but you have to believe me when I say I didn’t want to hurt you. I was only trying to protect you. Protect us.”
She buried her face in his neck. “I felt…I feel so far away from you. I was starting to think what we had wasn’t real.”
“It was real. It is real.” He kissed her head, her ear, her temple, until she lifted her face to his again.
“But how do you know?” she asked in a whisper. “We barely had a chance to see what it was like. Texts and phone calls don’t make for much of a relationship.”
He nodded and licked his lips, prepared to prove to her that they belonged together. “Can I show you now what it would be like? Chris and Bronte take on Los Angeles.”
That earned him a tiny smile, and he held her at arm’s length, his heart racing like he was at the starting line. He was ready to take off in a sprint. “How long are you staying?”
“For a few days. I have a hotel reservation through Sunday. My flight leaves early that morning.”
“Screw your reservation. I’ve been away from you for too long. Come home with me.”
She pushed away from him with a casual shrug and a flirty smile. “If you insist.”
“All right. Give me five minutes.” He held up his hand, repeating, “Five.”
With as much speed as he could muster, he turned on his shower to let it warm up while he cleaned his face off with baby wipes then tossed his costume on a hanger before taking the quickest shower known to man. When he grabbed his towel, stumbling out into the tiny hallway, Bronte let out a little laugh, and it was the sweetest sound he’d heard in a long time. He pulled on jeans and a T-shirt then grabbed her hand and towed her behind him as he made his way out of his trailer.
The head of the costume department was headed his way.
“Hey,” he called out to her. “I left all my stuff in the trailer. Sorry, it’s a mess in there, but it’s all hung up for you.” When she made a move to stop him, he kept walking, calling over his shoulder, “I gotta run, Deb. Thanks so much!” To Bronte, he said, “Once she starts talking, she doesn’t stop. Sweet lady, though.”
He waved to a few more people on the lot, including Logan, his PA.
“Wait,” the kid said, handing him a few papers. “Your new sides. And Trevor wanted to talk to you.”
Chris held in a grumble. When he needed to leave, suddenly everyone wanted to chat. Now. “About what?”
Logan adjusted the headphones he had hanging around his neck. “Fight choreography.”
Tugging Bronte in closer to him, Chris shook his head. “I can’t. We’ve been over it already. If he wants to change it, we can do it another day. It’s after seven. I’m done for the day.” Then he waved at Wes, who jogged over. “We’re out of here.”
Wes’s eyes toggled between Chris and Bronte before he nodded with a smile. “Yeah, sure. I’ll talk to you later?”
“I’ll call you.” Chris raised his eyebrows, sending a message. No interruptions.
“See you later, Bean,” Wes said.
She waved and followed Chris as he practically sprinted toward his car.
“Chris. Chris, wait. Slow down.”
He did, finally noticing Bronte had trouble keeping up in her wedge sandals. “Why’d you even wear those? They’re not very you.”
She raised an eyebrow, and he backtracked. “Not that I don’t like them. I love them. You look so sexy. The whole—” he waved from her head to her toes “—everything. I’m not…” He closed his eyes and shook his head once to clear it. “It’s just that you surprised me tonight, and you look so gorgeous, and my brain can’t take it all.”
He started to curl his arm around her waist, but someone called out, “Hey! CJ! What’s up, bro!”
He didn’t wait to see who it was, only opened the passenger side door of his car and all but threw Bronte inside. “Let’s go.”
