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I pat his chest. “It’s funny you think you had one to begin with,” I tease. “But I swear to take it to my grave.”
“I regretted not being able to keep my word with Cole and Emily. I couldn’t keep them safe. But mostly, I regretted you.”
“Me?” I ask, my breath hitching.
“Yes, you,” he tells me, and closes his eyes. “I regretted being unable to stay away, even when you needed me to. I regretted not telling you how I really felt about you. All I pictured when I was hurt, was you. You kept me breathing. You kept me focused. And it was your voice I wanted to hear. Then Emily found me. She applied pressure to my wound, and it wasn’t Emily whispering above me. It was you. I couldn’t form words or tell her to pass on a message. I couldn’t do much of anything. I’ve made many mistakes in my life, but I have never had regrets.”
“Then why did you try to keep me at arm’s length? Why not tell me everything? We missed so much time together.”
“You already know the answer,” he reminds me. “It had nothing to do with anything else. Not you, and not us.”
I lower my gaze, feeling like a fool. I recall what Stefania said to me at the birthday meal. I didn’t understand it then, but I do now. And what I’ve put on Ben, what I’ve made him turn his back on, is worse than what Zach did to me when he tried to keep me from my family. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Sorry?” he asks, tilting my chin.
“Your sister told me not too long ago that you are just like your dad. You have the same pride, and the same honour of keeping your word. Making you go against everything you are, everything you pride yourself in, is something I should never have done. I couldn’t see past my own needs and wants to truly see what keeping this secret would do to you.”
“My sister has a big mouth,” he comments. “But there is something I’ve come to realise. Evan reminds me of my father. His family is his world and they mean everything to him. You guys probably made him the man he is today, the same as my mum and siblings changed my dad. I look up to Evan in a way I haven’t with anyone since my dad died. He’s become family. And as much as I hate keeping this from him, I always think if he does have a problem, he isn’t the man I believe him to be. The man I know would want his daughter to be happy. And although I’m probably nothing more than a member of staff he is fond of, I would like to hope he sees me as worthy of you. That’s what I couldn’t see before. I couldn’t see past the promise I made at a young age.”
I cup his jaw. “I want to say I know how he will react, but I’ve learned recently that people can surprise you. But I don’t think he will have a problem with it. He’s never spoken a bad word about you. I never got the lecture saying, stay away from Ben; he has dozens of conquests on his bedpost.”
“Enough of talking about your dad whilst we’re naked,” he remarks, and twists us until he’s lying over me. He nips my chin, grinning. “We need to shower.”
“We should be getting some sleep. We have to be up early.”
“Sabrina messaged me when you went to get a glass of water. She said to be at hers for ten.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, smirking. “Then what are you waiting for? Let’s go get dirty in the shower.”
As he slides off the bed, he doesn’t wait for me to follow. He hauls me up over his shoulder, and I can’t help the boisterous laugh that escapes me. Never did I believe our relationship would be like this. Teasing, laughter, and so open.
But as he flips on the shower, my mind wanders back to my dad. He loves his children, and he is overly protective. I wasn’t lying when I said my dad hasn’t said a bad word against Ben. But that could change the moment he finds out we’re sleeping together. I have no idea how he will react, or if he will approve. And now that I’ve really thought about it, I’m not sure I want to tell him. I don’t want to ruin what Ben and I have.
There’s dread in the pit of my stomach, and I have to wonder, when it comes down to it, when my dad finally figures out the truth, will Ben pick me or his job?
CHAPTER THIRTY
Ben
The studio isn’t what I thought it would be. The place looks like a real town. It has worn out railings, weeds, and even litter and leaves in places, but it’s all fake. I’ll never be able to watch this television drama without noticing all the things that aren’t real.
Sabrina only shot one scene outside her on-set home, another inside, which was on another part of the set, and now they are in a huge marquee doing a wedding reception.
I move through the corridors back to her changing room and unlock the door to let myself in. I close the door firmly shut behind me and move over to her dressing table. There, sat in the centre, is a bouquet of roses, the card still attached. I lean down to read it.
Bitch, that sex scene might have looked modest on the big screen, but I have the entire tape. Thanks for making me money by taking your clothes off, whore.
Connor warned me she had some crazy fans, but I assumed it would be dramatic declarations of love, or demented messages of hate.
I pull out my phone and snap a picture, before I pick out the card and pull out my kit. When no prints show up, I snap a picture anyway, to prove to Connor I tried.
Dialling his number, he answers on the second ring. “What’s happened? Is Sabrina okay?”
“Sabrina is fine. But she received some roses at her work. I’m sending you a picture,” I tell him as I quickly send it in our private WhatsApp chat.
“Fuck!” he hisses. “I’m coming back.”
“I’ll stay with her,” I promise. “You don’t need to do that.”
