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Hayley’s smile faded as she sat, and Harrison worried he’d trampled on another fragile moment.
Great work.
“Sorry, that was harsh.”
He shrugged. “I deserved it.”
“Maybe a little.”
They shared a smile.
He took the seat beside her. “Actually, I used to write radio plays, which then turned into actual plays. Local theater, but nothing to thumb your nose at. After my fourth one, I was approached by a producer wanting to buy the film rights, and there was a bonus attached if I agreed to adapt the screenplay myself. I was rooming with three other guys at the time, and the idea of affording my own place was enough for me to google ‘how to write a script’ and take the money.”
Hayley’s expression was caught between amusement and disbelief. “You’re joking.”
“Nope. True story.” Harrison scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t usually tell people about that last part.”
Hayley mimed locking her lips up. “It stays between us then.”
“I don’t know. Maybe that’s why I fight so hard. I came from nothing. I didn’t go to a fancy school — no offense —”
“None taken.”
“And I don’t want to give anyone the ammo they’d need to question my work.”
“You’re so talented, Harry. People see that. You should let your guard down. Let us in.”
He wanted that, at least right then, in that room, with her. His foolish heart was suited up, bouncing on the diving board, ready to jump, his pulse hammering in his throat.
“Easy to say when your grad short scored one of the most sought-after awards in British film.”
Her cheeks flushed bright pink, her mouth opening and closing around air for a few seconds.
Eventually, Harrison saved her from responding.
“You were back there recently, right? For your friend Matt’s west end debut.”
“I was. How did you…?”
“I saw it on Instagram.”
“Keeping tabs on me?”
“Something like that.”
“Funny since you don’t have any social media that I could find.”
“Keeping tabs on me?”
“You’re a difficult man to get a hold of. After a month of not hearing from you —”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Are you very mad that you’re here?”
“No. I’m…” The words caught in his throat.About to combust if I don’t kiss youdidn’t seem appropriate. “I’m not angry,” he said in the end, knowing it wasn’t enough. “Do you miss the UK?”
“Sometimes, but it hasn’t been home in a long time. I have a life here now. Things I want to do.”
