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Acting, being on set, telling a story—it’s why I do what I do. It’s not all the other stuff that comes after. So I want to soak this all in.
I wasted time staying away from being an actor because I didn’t believe I had an ounce of talent, so getting this opportunity and taking this chance iseverything. If I can do this, if they like me, then I can do anything.
It’s time for our after-filming party on the roof patio of Smith’s boxy mansion, and I can’t wait to celebrate. We did it!
All us cast and crew make our way up to Smith’s roof, and the star-filled sky is a gorgeous backdrop to our low-key celebration. It’s a perfect September night—the crisp, cool sweater weather that makes you feel alive.
Maddox hands me a glass of Champagne, the twinkle in his eyes back when he says, “I have a confession.”
“Uh oh. Let’s hear it.”
“I’ve been having alien fantasies since we watchedLa Femme Hulk.”
I laugh, and everything feels just how it should be. “Understandable. That was agreatmovie.“ It was beyond horrible, and we watched it because it was up for a Razzie award. It should definitely win.
He chuckles, then his face turns serious. “Great job today. You owned it,” he leans in and whispers, “I wanted to take you right there. In the middle of the road.”
My body warms all over. “I wanted that too.”
We join the party, and everyone is raving about our season finale while getting drunker by the second. Jemma is ignoringus, which is great by me. It’s actually nice to forget her and focus on everyone else, who are having fun and relaxing. Vera’s got some good dance moves, and we’re all cheering her along.
But when I look at Smith, he looks wound even tighter than usual. I lean into Maddox’s ear and say, “What’s Smith’s problem?”
Maddox glances at him before leaning into my ear and whispering, “Um, he’s Smith. That’s his problem.”
I hold back a chuckle, saying, “True,” but I still think he’s off. Even for him.
When I feel Maddox’s eyes on me, I look at him, and he’s studying me adoringly. His face is soft when he says, “I love you.”
My heart thuds against my sternum, every cell of my body tugging toward him. I’m shocked, but I feel so light I could float away. “I love you too.” The words come out easily.
Yes, we’ve been through hell, but Maddox and I are going to be okay. The other night, our emotions were raw. But today, there was that intense kiss, and now, he just told me he loved me.
Maddox Winter just said he loved me.
It’s still sinking in. I knew it in my heart but knowing it and hearing it are two very different things. We’re going to be okay, and we can work through this. We’ll just give Jemma what she wants, and then we can move forward publicly as if no lie was told. After all, we’re together now.
With Maddox’s confession, the Champagne hitting me, and being surrounded by people I’ve grown to care about, I feel a reprieve from everything that’s going on. It’s almost normal, comfortable, like nothing’s gone sideways. I know there’s more stress to come, but if Maddox and I are together, it’ll all be okay.
Skye walks through the rooftop door, and by the look on her face, I know something’s gone to shit. She paints on a smile for the crowd but can’t stop her scowl when she sees Jemma.
Jemma plasters on her signature fake smile. “Hello, Skye. Glad you could make it.”
“Piss off, Jemma.” Skye grabs a drink for show, then pulls Maddox and me to an empty part of the roof, pretending to be fascinated by the view.
She’s mumbling through a smile when she says, “Jemma broke the gag order and told Smith about the recording. Now, Smith is giving Jemma your role, Riley. I forced him to tell me because I need to prepare for the firestorm of press.”
Something clenches tight inside me, and this amazing view just got blurry.
Maddox’s jaw tenses. “But I didn’t even meet with him yet.”
“Jemma got to him first, and the recording was enough. He’s too worried about himself.” Skye throws her head back in laughter, like she just told a killer joke.
I’m sure I’m supposed to laugh too, but all I can do is swallow back the bile rising in my throat. “There’s more, isn’t there?” As if that’s not already enough.
Skye tips her chin. “I got into Jemma’s email today. Don’t ask how.”
I already know—it’s West, who helps Skye out. God, why does he do crap like this for her?
