I mostly hate him for letting me go so easily. For making it clear that I’m not to him what he is to me. That’s the part I hate the most. I hate I gave so much of myself to him. The bell goes off, and I tear my eyes from the bag then look up to the clock above the door.
Shit. I wanted to be the first out. I wanted to beat him and get away from him. Fuck it. I’ll let him leave first then. I collapse into the seat, leaving the bag on the floor and slipping my thumb under my bra strap that fell down my arm, hiking it back up. Staring straight ahead, I ignore everyone, all of the students filing out and look fixedly at the blackboard. Mr. Jones’ chicken scratch of whatever he was talking about today is still there. I didn’t hear a damn word, not that it matters. All his tests are based on the quizzes in the back of every chapter.
The sounds get softer and softer as the room empties and I try not to watch the door. I won’t watch him leave; I refuse to give him that satisfaction.
The sound of sneakers scuffing against the floor to my left forces me to look. I keep my head down, but I recognize his jeans, his shoes. I know it’s him and it makes my heart sink into the pit of my stomach. I cried all night and I don’t want to cry here. Even if the only person left in this damn room is Mr. Jones.
“You want me to get it?” Nathan asks me and I have to look up, confused by what he means.
“Your bag?” he clarifies and I don’t know how to answer. I can’t keep doing this back and forth. I can’t be friends with an ex. Not the two of us. I love him too much to just be friends.
I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak. My voice feels raw and I can feel the tears pricking, threatening to spill over.
It’s when he tosses my bag over his shoulder and holds his hand out for me to take that the splintered pieces in my chest seem to warm, growing hotter and hotter until I place my hand in his and stand up in the small space he’s given me. There’s something about the way my hand fits so perfectly in his. Something about the way his thumb moves along the back of my hand. It makes me feel like it’s alright. Like everything is better than alright. Like it’s supposed to be this way.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers and plants a small kiss in my hair.
It’s not a thought, not a conscious decision. I only pull my hand away from his so I can wrap my arms around him and bury my head into his chest.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe into his chest and peek up at him. It’s not our first fight or even the second. And each time it hurts more and more, but when he holds me again, when I know he still loves me, that feeling is the best in the world. I can’t imagine anything feels better than that.
The door to Lydia’s room opens, letting in the sounds of chatter outside the room and the construction noises from a set being built only twenty feet or so away. It’s silenced when she closes it and she sags against the door with the biggest smile on her face.
The social butterfly that she is, she’s been networking like crazy and I’m sure that she won’t rest until everyone here knows exactly who Lydia Parker is.
“You have to leave this room, Harlow,” Lydia says as she walks to the small fridge and grabs a bottle of water. “For real, there are so many people you need to meet.” She takes a swig and then plays with the plastic cap between her fingers. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but this hideaway shit will not cut it here.”
I take in her words and had I not seen Nathan, I’d take her advice in a minute. Shit, I’d be walking around right by her side this entire time, forcing the nerves down and doing what I need to in order to get my career on the right track. But the nerves reeling through me don’t have a damn thing to do with work. It hasn’t even been a blip on my radar since I saw him.
I fiddle with my phone and debate on how to tell her. It’s eating me alive and I can’t keep hiding.
“Who texted you?” she asks but doesn’t wait for an answer before snatching the phone from my hand. It’s the first time I’ve moved from her bed, hopping off but not bothering to reach out and take it. The defense is a natural one, but Lydia can take the damn phone if she wants.
“Are you mad that your mom is still being … well, your mom?” she asks me after glancing at the text. Her voice holds nothing but concern and sympathy. My mother told me good luck, but added how worried she is. I’ll be lucky if she lets me leave the house again when I go home after shooting wraps up. This isn’t the life she had in mind for me and she’s uncomfortable. But she won’t hold me back. It’s obvious she doesn’t support my decision though.
I take the damn phone from her and lay back onto the bed.
“No, I knew she’d be like this.” I don’t blame my mom; it’s just something she has to accept. She will. I have faith.
I cover my face with my hands. I don’t have time for this stress and everything that’s going on around me. It all needs to just stop. The memory of what happened that night keeps replaying in my mind. The sound keeps echoing in my head. It just won’t stop. Nathan’s a reminder of that night and I can’t separate the two right now.
The bed dips as Lydia sits down next to me. “Look, I’m not going to sugarcoat this for you, Harlow.” She puts both hands on her tanned knees and stares straight ahead before looking back at me. “This is fucking hard, but you need to get your ass out there and network. You need to be out there.” She stresses each word, the savvy business side of her coming to the forefront.
“I, seriously, am not okay,” I start to tell her, searching for the right words.
“Knock it off,” Lydia says with a strength I wasn’t expecting. “You are not going to give this up. Grab a hold of your big girl panties …”
“I used to be with Nathan Hart,” I interrupt her, spilling my secret and holding my breath as she stops mid word and registers what I’ve told her.
Her words come out slowly as she says, “You … used to date … Nathan Hart.”
Pulling my knees into my chest, I nod my head. It’s so much more than that though. We share a secret that was never told. A crime committed that was never given justice. And we’re the guilty ones.
I can’t speak. I can’t start telling our tale. It was ten years ago and during high school. A short burst of puppy love maybe. But it’s not the beginning that makes me hesitant to talk. It’s how we ended and knowing I can never tell a soul what happened.
That night has never left me.
“Shut up!” Lydia squeals with a smile plastered on her face. She obviously can’t read the thoughts going on in my head. She’s oblivious to how nauseated I feel as she grips my arm and shakes me. “Tell me everything.”
A moment passes in silence. I can’t tell her shit. I’ve never told a soul, just like Nathan commanded.
I fell in love with a boy who broke my heart. That’s about as simple as it gets and avoids the truth of the dark secret we share. It downplays my role and the guilt that will always stay with me.
I lick my lips as tears prick the back of my eyes and that’s when Lydia seems to realize this isn’t some childish retelling of a one-night stand.
“There’s nothing to tell other than that … we used to date back in high school and it ended horribly.”
“That would be an interesting little tidbit to be leaked to the papers,” Lydia arches a brow as she suggests the worst possible circumstances.
“No!” I’m quick to end that thought right where it begins and my immediate reaction has her raising her hands in defense. Fear is the overwhelming emotion. No one can know. “I don’t want anyone to know.”
He literally told me to forget his name. Every time I think about contacting him and just saying hello, I hear his words in my head. I don’t want this getting out and him thinking I had anything to do with it. I can keep it polite, cordial, professional. Or at least that’s the goal.
“No papers then. We’ll keep this quiet?” she offers and I nod my head.
The idea of sneaking around on my tiptoes and avoiding him doesn’t settle anything in me. I just can�
�t stand to be around him, that’s really what it is. I’ll try to keep it professional and he’ll destroy me by doing the same. But that’s all there is between us. He made sure of that.
“I need to quit,” I tell her and the last word cracks but I cover my face with my hands and pull myself together.
“First of all,” Lydia starts as she runs her hand down my back in soothing strokes. “It’s only four days that you have to be out there,” she says and then adds with a shrug of her shoulders, “He may not even be here those four days.”
I nod my head but I don’t even know why. I don’t know what I want. I’m supposed to take notes from Nancy after this, but I don’t know how I’ll be able to stay focused.
“Seriously though, you need to let it roll off your shoulders.” Her strength makes me look her in the eyes. “Don’t let this keep you from what you really want.”
What I really want is him. How stupid and naïve can I really be?
“Do you really think Nancy has something better for you right now?” Lydia asks me.
I don’t respond; I can’t even think of words. It’s not the number of days or what’s waiting for me in my career. It’s simply the proximity to Nathan that makes me feel completely undone. Like my body can only move again once he tells me I can. Like I’m only breathing right now so I can live to see what he thinks of us meeting again. So unexpectedly, and so long since he’s pushed me away.
“The pressure is on and Nancy isn’t going to get another offer for you like this, let me tell you,” Lydia starts and I know she’s got a story up her sleeve, but I don’t want to hear it.
“It’ll be okay,” I say out loud although I didn’t mean to. We hid what we did back then, and we can hide it now.
“It will,” Lydia says confidently and I can feel her eyes on me, but I can’t look back at her.
“It’ll kill me if he pretends he doesn’t recognize me,” I whisper and it’s true. It’s probably the worst thing he could do to me and it’s exactly what I’m prepared for. It’s what he did for the last two months of school, right up until he was arrested.
“If he does, he’s an ass. And either way, you’re going to kill it out there.”
“Thank you,” I tell her with every bit of sincerity. She shouldn’t have to put up with me. I got used to being alone and I wish I was right now. With the exception of one person. I’m pathetic.
“I didn’t get you this part so an ex could make you run away,” she says and tries to smile, but my lack of humor or any trace of happiness keeps it away.
Ex isn’t how I would describe him.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” Lydia tells me, breaking me away from my thoughts just as soon as the memories start to creep in. It’s easy for her to say. She doesn’t know a damn thing that happened.
Chapter 4
Nathan
Ten years ago
September 12
* * *
She’s always running her fingers through her dirty blonde hair. The simple motion sends the sweet smell of lavender and something else my way. It’s faint, but I know it’s her. It’s something sweet and soothing. If I think about her, or even if I see her across the lunchroom or in the school parking lot, I swear I can smell that scent.
I like sitting behind her in geography. I can watch the cute little things she does and it looks like I’m actually paying attention.
This is the only class I haven’t gotten kicked out of so far. The stupid shit doesn’t bother me as much when I can watch her. Even if she never looks at me twice.
The bell rings and the sound rips my eyes away from her and toward the classroom door as a few more students file through. Adam Waynes is the last in and his chair screeches across the floor as he crashes into his seat. He’s loud as fuck and gets all the attention. At the thought, I look to her, to Harlow May. I’m expecting her to be watching the spectacle that would usually piss me off, but instead, those gorgeous blue eyes are on me. She’s quick to look away, again her fingers flying to her hair and twirling her locks nervously as bright pink creeps into her cheeks.
She can be shy all she wants, but I caught her. I caught her looking. Even better, I made her blush. I did that.
It almost gives me enough courage to pull on her backpack straps as she walks in front of me to leave. I could give her bag a tug and force her to look back at me, but I don’t. I stay behind like I have for the last few weeks and let her walk away.
But the next time she glances at me in geography, she doesn’t avert her gaze when I look back.
And a few days later, she’s the one tugging on my backpack.
I keep telling her I’m not good for her, but she doesn’t listen though.
That’s the very thing that will ruin us and we knew it from the start.
“Nathan!” Julie’s shrill voice makes my brow furrow as I raise my eyes to her. Her fingers are laced together as she folds her hands in her lap and lets out a huff of laughter. It’s sweet, but nervous. “He does this sometimes,” she tells Margo Hawkins, a reporter for some paper. I hate these things, but this one, I apparently couldn’t get out of.
I force the hint of a smile on my face and readjust in my seat. I’m riddled with guilt, just like I’ve been every single day since I left her. But she was better off without me. I’m a different man now though.
“What’s on your mind, Mr. Hart?” Margo asks.
Hally. Our past. Every moment I regret that led up to today.
“Nothing,” I say and shake my head. Julie’s smile slips and I see it from the corner of my eye. “I’m just so honored to be starring alongside Julie. She truly is a force to be reckoned with.”
The smile comes back and this time it’s genuine. I don’t have a damn thing against Jules. She’s a hard worker and obsessed with making the right moves for her brand, but right now I really could not give two shits.
All that’s on my mind are the detailed papers Mark slipped under my door this morning. Everything about my Hally, who she’s represented by and how she came to be here.
There’s no way she knew I’d be here, but the coincidence is something I just can’t drop. My Hally was sweet and innocent, but time changes everyone. I know this better than most.
“I have to ask,” Margo says, leaning forward with a shy smile as she looks between the two of us. We’re in the green room where these interviews are done and several men with recorders, cameras, and notepads are standing just behind Margo’s chair taking in every word. I should force the charm and play the part. I know better than to let them see the real me. “Have you two had your first kiss on set yet?” Margo asks the ever-so-important question. It takes everything in me for me not to roll my eyes.
“Well, not yet, but I can tell you my husband is not looking forward to that one,” Julie answers with a laugh and gives her patented smile. “There are a few days that he’s choosing not to be on set,” she adds with a flirtatiousness that makes Margo smile, but her humor is restrained as she looks to me for my response.
“Not yet,” I answer as easily as I can.
Jules is nice and I’ve had plenty of heated moments with costars, some of which have gone too far and landed the "affairs” in headlines. More than a few times I knew that’s all they were after when they sneaked into my dressing room.
The thought of Hally seeing other women come on to me makes me shift in my seat, the leather making the only noise in the small room as a man on my left jots something down in the notebook he’s holding. Even if it’s just for a scene and only for work.
“This role is different from your usual, Nathan. How are you preparing for it?” Margo asks me and I look past her to see several eyes on me, waiting for a response.
Clearing my throat, I struggle to even remember my role. When I started acting, I was the sidekick character with a smart mouth who got into fistfights. Not so far from the person I really was. The one who was always looking for trouble. Then the parts changed and I started playing deeper roles,
ones where I was trying to do the right thing. More than once the characters I’ve played died fighting for what they believed in, right or wrong. The irony doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Well, for one, I hardly cuss in this,” I offer and smile, feeling the charm set in. Margo and Julie laugh and then I add, “Robby, my character in Night Fire, is definitely a different part in that he’s from wealth and a formal upbringing, yet chose a life of crime, even if it is white collar.”
The lines, scripts, and endless pages of my character’s details come back to me. I nod my head and say, “It’s definitely different and I’m enjoying it. I like the challenge.”
The conversation moves seamlessly as I watch Julie and Margo go tit for tat in banter. I can barely stay focused. Mark’s given me Hally’s schedule and her first scene is tomorrow. She won’t be able to hide from me then.
“And what are you most looking forward to, Mr. Hart?” Margo asks. “I know this must be tremendously different from cinema productions.”
I’m mid-sentence when I see Hally. She’s been on set for two days and hiding from me. Of course she’d show herself now when I’m doing my best to play my part and be the supportive costar.
Hally has a way of doing that to me. Throwing me off-kilter and bringing out a side of me that’s raw with rough edges. I can’t hide who I am from her; even worse, I don’t want to.
My mouth’s still open as I force my eyes back to Margo. No one seemed to notice that Hally stole my attention, even if it was just for a split second. No one but Julie.
I clear my throat and stare straight into Margo’s eyes as if she were Hally as I say, “What I’m most looking forward to is getting to play a new character. To pretend to be someone else.”
The second the last word leaves my lips, my gaze flickers to where Hally was standing, but she’s no longer there. For a second, I almost think I imagined her.
Second Chance Page 3
