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“They’ll probably want to know about us too,” I point out, apprehension filling me.
It’s one thing to pose for photos or have the paparazzi catch us. It’s another thing entirely to go onto live TV and be interviewed by a professional who has no qualms about asking the tough questions.
“Yeah, Simon warned me about that.” Tate shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I’ll be fine.”
“You will be totally fine,” I tell him, wanting to believe it. No, not wanting. I totally believe it.
I have faith in him.
“This is a big deal that he wants me as a guest, because last time I was on that guy’s show, I was a complete asshole.” Tate exhales roughly, shaking his head. “There were rumors he told everyone he could that he’d never work with me again, but I must’ve done something right. Or Simon eventually wore him down.”
Tate’s demons still follow him around, especially with people he’s dealt with in the past in the industry.
“You’ll prove to him that you’re not the same person you were,” I say, my voice firm. “You’re a new version of yourself. A better version.”
“They want me to perform too,” Tate adds, and I see it then. The worry in his gaze. “I’ve never sung that song live.”
“I’m sure you’ll be great,” I say without hesitation.
He shifts closer, leaning in to give me a kiss. “No one else believes in me like you do, Scar. You make me feel like I can conquer anything.”
Warmth spreads over my skin, leaving me a little dizzy. Or maybe that’s from having Tate so close, seeing that particular gleam in his eyes. “That’s because you can.”
He kisses me again. “Don’t ever leave me, okay?”
We both go still at his words, staring at each other. What he just said feels so...
Serious.
“This is real for you too, right?” His voice is the barest whisper. A rasp in the otherwise still room.
Slowly I nod, my gaze locked on his. “Yes.”
His smile is slow. “I didn’t think this could happen.”
“Me either.”
“I thought you were uptight.”
“I thought you were a smug prick.”
He rears back with a laugh, resting his hand on his chest. “Tell me how you really feel.”
I shrug, laughing with him. “I’m just telling you my first impression.”
His laughter dies, his expression turning serious. “I thought you were beautiful.”
“I thought you were even better looking than you were in Five Car Pileup.”
“That’s not saying much.” He grimaces.
“You were adorable back then. So cute with the floppy hair.” I reach out, teasing the ends of his hair. “You’ve still got it.”
“Not as much as I used to.” He dodges away from my seeking fingers, darting in for another kiss, this one full of tongue. “You make me feel like I’ve still got it.”
“All of those fangirls leaving comments all over your social media doesn’t prove to you that you still have it? Have you even searched your hashtag lately?”
He winces. “No. Sometimes I’m almost afraid to look.”
