As he drives us to the brewery, my throat aches with the urge to say just how much he means to me and how I don’t want us to end when shooting wraps.
I even open my mouth, but my nerves take over, leaving my stomach in one massive knot. Why should I even bother? He’s already made up his mind about us.
I stay quiet, press my eyes shut, and say nothing. Pursing my lips together, I stare out the window, terrified that if I try to speak, I’ll break.
“You’re awfully quiet, Dunn.”
I take a moment to collect myself, thankful that it’s nighttime and so dark that he can’t see the tears welling in my eyes. I blink them away before I answer.
“Just tired.”
He pulls into the parking lot of the brewery and helps me out of the truck once again. And then he flashes that flustered smile. My favorite smile of his, the one that leaves me warm all over.
“One drink,” he says. “Then we’ll head back to the hotel.”
I smile to keep from tearing up again. “Sounds perfect.”
21
When we walk into the Moab Brewery, I’m blasted with loud chatter and laughter. I’m immediately jolted by the décor, which is a mix of small-town bar and outdoor-gear shop. There’s a raft bolted to the ceiling along with mountain bikes, paddleboards, and other sporting equipment. If I were in a regular happy mood, I’d gawk and laugh. But since I’m on the verge of crying, I frown at the crowd and do a scan for the crew. Everything from the bar to the tables is full. But then I see Joe waving at us from a long table in the corner. I plaster on a smile that I hope doesn’t look too fake and make my way over.
“You finally made it!” Joe announces. He pats me lightly on the back. “How was dinner? Super-duper yummy?”
I nod, relieved that it seems like everyone is tipsy enough that they don’t question why Drew and I decided to have dinner together before meeting them. The excuse we gave everyone was that we had to go over some hosting stuff for Drew for the rest of the shoot, but that seems especially flimsy, now that I think about it.
Just then Joe gazes right past me and grins.
“There he is! Our superstar. Have a shot with us.”
Drew starts to say no, but Wyatt, who’s sitting at the other side of the table, points to a line of shots on the table. The plate of lime wedges indicates that it’s tequila.
“Come on! You gotta do one,” Wyatt goads him.
I glance up at Drew, who hesitates, then relents. Rylan walks up to the table from the direction of the bathrooms.
Her eyes go wide. “Tequila shots are my favorite! Yay!”
She swipes a shot glass, then hands one to me. I down it immediately while everyone else holds out in order to listen to the toast tipsy Wyatt is shouting over the restaurant speaker system, which is playing some country song I don’t recognize.
“Hey.” Haley walks up to me, her beautifully thick eyebrows knitted in concern. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.” I reach for another tequila shot and down it. Wyatt points at me and cheers me on. I turn back to Haley. “Why do you ask?”
She crosses her arms. “Because you walked in here with the biggest scowl I’ve ever seen a human being make, then proceeded to down two tequila shots when I know for a fact that you hate tequila.”
“It’s alcohol,” I mutter, then reach for a third. Haley grabs my arm and pulls me away from the table and down the corridor by the hallway bathrooms.
She turns me to face her. “I mean it. What is going on with you?”
I open my mouth, but before I can think of some lie to spew to her, all my emotions from the evening collide inside me. My lip trembles and my eyes water, and then I let out the most pathetic cry sound I’ve ever made in my life.
“I like Drew, Haley. Like, I really, truly like him. Like, I’m legitimately falling for him. I think I might be . . .” I drift off and sniffle before I say what I’m too scared to verbalize.
Haley’s expression softens. “You love him, Alia. That’s amazing. Why are you so sad about it?”
“Because.” My voice breaks before I can say more. “He doesn’t feel the same way. He doesn’t feel the same way, and it’s my fault because I made those ridiculous rules in the beginning for us to follow when we started hooking up, about how this was all supposed to be just a good time and nothing more—nothing serious—but that’s total garbage because now I want something serious with him. But he doesn’t want it with me.”
Haley squints at me, probably trying to make sense of my snotty babbling. Then after a second she sighs and rubs my arm. “Alia, I love you, but screw this bullshit.”
I open my mouth and nothing but a croak comes out.
“Just tell him how you feel,” she says.
I shake my head. “I can’t. He just handed me a box of matches as we left the restaurant and said something weird and cryptic about how things between us aren’t going to last past tonight so we’d better enjoy it while it lasts.”
Haley squints at me like she’s trying to make sense of my babbling. She rubs my arm in a caring gesture. “Forget about the matches. Are you one hundred percent sure that’s what he said? It sounds like you’ve had a lot to drink and maybe you misunderstood what he meant . . .”
I shake my head and step away, wiping my nose on my jacket sleeve as I walk away from her and back out into the dining area. I don’t have the energy to rehash everything for Haley. I opt to head straight for the bar instead of heading back to our table where I’ll have to see Drew, and I just can’t right now. My heart will explode.
I sidle up to the bar and wait for the bartender, who’s frantically pouring beers, to notice me. Just then there’s a hollered shout that echoes through the brewery.
I turn to the entrance and see Blaine, his arms raised, shouting while grinning. Most diners stare at him with confused looks on their faces. A few laugh as he starts high-fiving random people. I squint at his outfit of black leather pants, no shirt, and a suede jacket with loads of long fringe, then roll my eyes.
Next to him stands Colton in a rumpled, plain, gray T-shirt and jeans. His youthful face boasts the telltale signs of exhaustion: there are bags under his eyes and his skin is extra-pale. He spots me when he looks around, then walks over, leaving Blaine to continue high-fiving bewildered strangers.
“Hey.” I pat him on the shoulder. “You okay?”
He shrugs, then looks at me. His expression slides from exhausted to concerned. “Are you okay?”
I swallow and shake my head. “Yeah. Just . . . kind of a rough night.”
“You and me both,” he mutters. “I’m fed up with Blaine.”
“Your reserve of patience is much deeper than anyone else I know, Colton.” The bartender comes over, and I request a bourbon for me and ask Colton what he wants. He asks for a beer.
“Thanks,” he says, leaning on the bar top while running a hand through his mess of red hair. “I really, really need that.”
Just then Blaine starts running between tables while whooping.
“I’m sorry he’s here,” Colton mumbles. He shakes his head as he looks away from Blaine and back to me. “Rylan was texting me the time and place for drinks, and you-know-who happened to see my phone. He insisted on coming.”
Colton looks so downtrodden, I want to hug him. The bartender drops off our drinks, and Colton takes a long sip.
“It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize,” I say to him. “Blaine is going to do whatever the hell he wants, no matter what anyone tells him. Unfortunately.”
Colton nods, his eyes downcast.
“You should go over and say high to Rylan.” I point to the table just as Blaine shouts, “God bless you all!” before running over to the far end of the restaurant, where a mountain bike hangs from the ceiling as part of the outdoorsy décor. He jumps up a few times and tries to gr
ab the front tire. A huge-muscled dude wearing a black shirt walks over to him, shaking his head. Blaine scrunches up his face in disappointment before disappearing into the crowd.
I roll my eyes and nudge Colton. “Ignore him. He’s on the security guy’s radar now. Go see your girl.”
His smile is genuine joy and relief. “Thanks, Alia.”
He walks off, and I spot Rylan flashing that giddy grin she always displays when she sees Colton. She pulls him into a hug, and I let a small smile slip. At least one couple in this brewery reciprocates romantic feelings for each other.
I take a long sip from my glass, leaning my back against the bar. To my left is a couple exchanging sweet kisses between sips of beer, and to my right is a guy cheering while watching some sporting event on one of the TVs above the bar. I’m contemplating getting an Uber back to my hotel room when I hear Drew’s voice near me.
I turn and see that he’s standing at the bar, right next to the sports fan.
“I’m flattered, but no, thanks,” he says to someone on his other side whom I can’t see. There’s a high-pitched chuckle that follows. I lean to the side a little and see a pretty woman with light-brown hair grinning up at him.
“Look, I’m sure a guy like you has girls lining up around the block wanting to buy you a drink,” she says in a teasing, high-pitched voice. “Let me at least be your first drink of the night.”
I shake my head and close my eyes, focused on finishing the rest of my drink so I can leave. The sports fan cheers once more, and I try my hardest to tune in to his nonsensical sounds just so I don’t have to listen to Drew get hit on.
The woman hitting on Drew lets out a cute giggle. “I see. You make a lady work for it. I can respect that.”
My blood boils and I bite down so hard, my temples immediately throb. Even though I know I shouldn’t, I peek over at them once more. She’s running her perfectly manicured hand along his forearm . . . the forearm that I held on to just a couple of hours earlier when he helped me walk through the gravel parking lot to the restaurant.
My chest aches. I can’t do this. I can’t stand here and listen to the guy I’m in love with get chatted up. I throw back the rest of my drink, set the empty glass on the bar, and attempt to walk in the direction of the bathrooms without Drew seeing me.
I take a step forward, but sports guy jumps out of his stool and raises his arms in the air while screaming something unintelligible, then backs into me. I’m thrown off balance and fall right into Drew’s back.
He spins around and steadies me with both of his hands on my arms. His eyes go wide. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I mutter, annoyed that sports guy hasn’t even said sorry. “I got in the way of that guy’s enthusiasm.”
I nod to the sports fan, whose eyes are still glued to the TV screen. Drew glares at him while I glance over at the woman next to him, who’s scowling at me now. I try to shrug out of his hold, but he turns me to face him.
“Hey. What’s wrong?”
I guess I’m not hiding my dejection very well. It’s probably written all over my face.
“Nothing. I’m just trying my best not to interrupt your drink date.”
I pin the woman next to him with an unblinking stare. After a second she looks away, rolls her eyes, then sips her drink.
Drew frowns. “What are you talking about?”
“We’re not together, Drew. You can accept a drink from whoever you want.” A dizzy spell hits from the hard liquor I shotgunned a minute ago.
“Alia, I’m not here to do that. Why would you think that?”
“Because dinner’s over and we’re done, right? That’s why you gave me the matchbox from the restaurant—to remember you and this night when this is all over, right? So drink with who you want and fuck who you want.” I jut my chin at the woman next to him, who’s now staring at me with her mouth open. “Including her. You’ll get some free alcohol out of it too. Win-win.”
I wince internally at my hard tone. I hate how mean I sound . . . but downing all those shots and that glass of bourbon is making it impossible to keep myself in check. All the thoughts and feelings I’ve been hiding over the past few weeks are finally spilling out of me.
Drew’s jaw tightens at my harsh words.
With his hands still on my arms, he turns to address the woman. “Sorry, but I’m not interested in drinking with you or sleeping with you. You’re better off hitting on some other guy.”
She makes a disgusted face and mutters “your loss” before walking off.
I brace myself to endure Drew’s angry frown and whatever harsh words he has for me—I deserve them. But when he turns to look at me, it’s concern that paints his face. “Alia. I would never even think about another woman while we’re together. Why would you say all that? Why would you think that we’re done? That’s not what I meant. And that’s not at all why I gave you the matches.”
Tears burn my eyes and my lips start to tremble before I can even answer. I yank out of his grip. “I gotta pee,” I mumble before stomping off in the direction of the bathrooms.
I’m at the wall on the far side of the bar, right in front of the hallway by the bathrooms, when I feel a soft hand on my shoulder.
I spin around and see Drew standing there, tenderness laced through his features.
“Please talk to me.”
The sound of his soft tone makes me break. Tears fall from my face a half second later, and I can’t even blame it all on the alcohol. He’s about to see what a mess I truly am.
“I like you, Drew.” I sniffle. “I really, really like you. I mean, yes, you’re amazing in bed, but I like you too. I have feelings for you. Really deep and mushy-gushy feelings. Our date tonight was the most perfect date ever . . . I don’t want it to be just a memory or the last time we ever have dinner together.” I sniffle. “Every day my feelings for you have gotten stronger and stronger. It doesn’t matter if we’re just chatting in the car or working a fourteen-hour day together; it’s always the best day because I get to be with you. And I just . . . I don’t want it to end.”
I pause to catch my breath from all the crying and babbling. My vision is blurry through the tears, but I can still make out Drew’s form in front of me. Then I blink a few times, and he comes back into focus. And then I’m speechless. Because instead of the dread or shock I expect to see on his face, all I see is the most beautiful smile.
“Dunn. I don’t want it to end either. And I feel the exact same way about you.”
My mouth falls open. “You do?”
He grins. “Absolutely. How could I not? You’re incredible.”
My heart squeezes itself into a tiny, hopeful ball.
His gaze locks onto mine. Around us people are laughing and shouting and drinking, but it all becomes muffled. All I can see and hear is Drew.
He scoops my hand in his. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. It’s never been this good. Ever. You get me in a way that no one else has. You helped me work through my stage fright. I’m the host of a show because of you. I never, ever thought I’d feel comfortable in front of the camera, but I am now. Because of you. You’re beautiful, funny, hardworking, brilliant, talented, and the most supportive person I’ve ever known. I’m in awe of you. I feel like the luckiest bastard in the world to have a second chance with you after I blew my first one when we met two months ago.”
I let out the breath I’ve been holding ever since he started talking.
“And that stuff I said after dinner about enjoying it while it lasts? I just meant going out to a fancy dinner, because while we were at Desert Bistro, you said you hardly ever went out to restaurants. That’s all.”
“Oh.” I feel so unbelievably silly.
He shoves his free hand in his hair, like he’s both happy and flustered. “Look, I was going to wait until our last day of shooting to say this to y
ou, but now’s as good a time as any. I want things to be official with us, Alia. I want you to be my girlfriend. And I know it might be complicated because our work schedules are insane and we travel constantly, but I don’t care. I really think this—we—could work. I want to be with you.”
He leans down and kisses me. It lasts only a second, but it’s more charged than any physical thing we’ve done up to this point. Because right now, the meaning behind his words is loud and clear. He cares about me. He wants to be with me. His words, his actions, his feelings, his everything, makes that clear.
I run my hand up his chest, unable to control the grin on my face. I’m suddenly thankful that from this angle, we’re hidden by a giant floor-to-ceiling wooden beam. I want this moment for just us and no one else to see.
“I want all of that too, Drew. Every single thing.”
The smile on his face turns giddy right before he pulls me into a kiss so sloppy and rabid, I think I might pass out. When we break apart, I’m lightheaded and it’s not because of the alcohol.
“It’s official, then. We’re together,” he says.
“Exclusive. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Whatever you want to call us.”
“We should probably celebrate. At the hotel. Now.”
I let out a chuckle. “Sounds perfect. Let me run to the restroom first, though.”
I start to walk away, but he pulls me gently by the arm against him as he kisses me once more. I playfully smack his arm, then walk down the darkened hallway to the bathroom. I’m about to walk into the women’s restroom when I hear a yelp. I stop and glance up but don’t see anything. There’s a giant cowboy statue next to the door of the women’s restroom. Maybe someone on the other side bumped into it?
“Blaine, I said stop.”
All the air leaves my body at Rylan’s panicked tone.
“Come on. You look so pretty tonight. I just want to show you how much I appreciate the hard work you’ve been doing this entire shoot.” Blaine’s slimy tone causes all the hair on my arms to stand on end.
“Please let go of me.”
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