Lying on the beach Saturday night, while he watched the wind tangle my hair, Gavin told me about being ‘discovered’ at eight years old, about how crazy his life was growing up and how his parents hung in there through it all because they knew he loved acting so much.

He talked about his mom and dad like they were absolute saints, and I found myself feeling a little jealous of how amazing they had been. He said his favorite moment ever was when he’d presented them with their twentieth-anniversary present—the deed to their house in Maui.

I loved his generous, kind heart and how he glowed when he spoke of them. He laughed when he told me how technology-phobic his mom was and how his dad was obsessed with sending him glasses and hats so he could stay incognito in style. Most of his collection had come from his father who really did have great taste.

I was still laughing at a hilarious story that involved his mom throwing her birthday present—a smart watch purchased specifically to mess with her—in the freezer in frustration when Gavin asked me to tell him how I ended up in foster care. His patient smile and warm eyes made me feel safer than I had in a long time, maybe ever, so I did something I never thought I would… I opened up.

I told him about my parents and how they’d abandoned me. How I’d lived in the house alone for over a month at ten years old until a neighbor caught on and called social services. It was good that someone had called. It had been summer at the time, and I was out of food and the power had just been cut off by the time the police showed up and carted me off to a group home.

“I bawled my head off for months after they left—long after I was taken in by the state—clutching a stupid family picture I’d stolen out of the frame in our living room. I cried on it so many times it was almost ruined.” I pushed a few strands of hair from my cheek, hating how they’d stuck to the few quiet tears that had trickled down the sides of my face.

Gavin was silent at my side, his shoulder touching mine as we stared at the sky.

“I woke up crying nearly every night from stupid dreams that they’d come back for me and tell me it was all a mistake, that they loved me and someone had forced them to stay away. That they had fought to get back to me and would have never left me alone and afraid in an empty house. That they hated knowing how hungry I’d been or how awful it was that I had to eat rotten fruit and uncooked macaroni and cheese to stay alive because I was too afraid to go ask someone for food. God, I remember wetting the elbow noodles in my mouth and dipping them into the packet of powdered cheese before crunching on them until the jagged pieces cut my gums.” I pressed one hand to my mouth, phantom pain flaring to punctuate the memory.

Tap, tap, tap.

Gavin’s hand came to rest on mine and squeezed. “Baby, you don’t have to—”

I ignored him and kept talking, needing to get it out, to say it out loud for the first time in… ever. “In my dreams, they were horrified knowing I sat and listened to the ice cream truck going by every afternoon, that I cried every day because I didn’t have any money and my stomach was always growly. They’d wail their apologies when I told them that sometimes I’d peek through the blinds and watch the parents holding their children’s hands as they decided what treat they wanted from the truck. Some of the kids rode on their daddy’s shoulders and giggled as they were handed their ice cream while I sat there on the floor, peeking out my window, crying for the parents who’d abandoned me.” I shook my head, tears rolling back toward my temples and disappearing into my hair. “In those dreams, it didn’t matter why they’d left because they’d come back and we were a family again. That’s all I wanted, all any kid wants.”

Those dreams that had comforted me in the beginning eventually felt more like nightmares. Because they didn’t come back. They didn’t care what happened to me. I was on my own.

When he asked if I was sure they abandoned me, I nodded and told him that they were eventually tracked down and arrested. They were informed I was in state custody and simply nodded, without so much as asking how I was.

I even admitted that, before they were found, I’d wondered if maybe they’d been in an accident and both had amnesia or been in the hospital. I’d even considered that they’d been killed. But I’d never thought they just didn’t want me anymore.

After I found out the truth, anytime anyone asked, I would say they died. Because it was easier than the truth and, God help me, I spent a lot of time wishing they had. What they’d done had certainly killed a part of me.

“You still have a family, Kaiti. You have Evie. And you have me,” he told me when I was through. “Neither of us is going anywhere.”

“Evie says friends are the family you get to choose for yourself.” I smiled and turned my head, nuzzling his hand.

“She’s right, you know? I’ve already chosen you, Kaiti-girl. And if you choose me too, I swear I’ll never let you down the way they did. Only a fool would let you go, and I’m anything but a fool.”

“Will you still choose me if this is all there is? If these three months are the extent of my time on the show and I go back to my regular life while you stay there and do the star thing?” I had to be realistic about this, even though the fairytale-loving little girl inside me was screaming at me to shut up. He had to know this wasn’t a permanent situation, me being on the show.

“I don’t have to continue choosing you, it’s done. You’re it for me. Whether we work or live together or have to fight for every second we can get because we have different schedules. It doesn’t matter how much shit gets in the way. We’ll figure it out.”

I shook my head at his resolute expression. “I love how committed you are to this.”

“And I love everything about you.” He kissed the tip of my nose and I laid back with a sigh of contentment.

The waves rolled in and filled the silence between us until I said, “I’ve been wondering something. We already talked about what I would want to do if my role as Meadow came to an end. What about you? If you could do anything, what would you want to do? What did you dream of doing when you were a kid?”

He picked at a spot on the blanket between us and answered in a voice tinged with sadness. “I don’t remember what I wanted to be back then. I was so young when I started out in the business, I don’t think I ever really had time to dream. I mean, aside from the typical little boy fantasies where I was a cowboy or an astronaut.” He chuckled softly. “Funny thing is, I ended up being both over the years, in one role or another.”

“Okay, if you don’t have a childhood dream stored up, how would grown-up Gavin answer that question?”

He laid back on the blanket, staring up at the sky. “I find it hilarious that you think I’m a grown-up.”

“Is that you trying to side-step the question?” I was tempted to roll onto my side so he could see my face but I stayed where I was. Sometimes it was easier to open up when you weren’t focused on the person you were talking to. I knew from experience.

He smiled at the stars and shook his head ever so slightly. “No. That’s me not knowing the answer. The truth is, I’m doing what I love—even if a lot of the facets of it aren’t what I wish they were. I’m not happy with a lot of the peripheral shit like the off-camera drama and inflated egos, but I love the process of acting. There’s a freedom in it that I don’t think I could find anywhere else, so I deal with the parts I don’t like and relish the ones I do.”

“I wish you didn’t have to distance yourself from so much to avoid the unpleasantness. I feel like maybe you’re missing out on some things by keeping yourself apart from everyone.” I chewed my lip as I considered, my eyes straying to a single, puffy cloud moving across the sky. “On the other hand, it’s pretty awesome that you don’t feed into the drama. You’re not giving into it or backing down from what you believe just because so many others in your position have.”

He chuckled. “You know all about not backing down don’t you, my fearless girl?

“I’m not fearless. I’m actually afraid of a lot of things and I struggle with my anxiety every day. Some days are easier than others, and some days I lose the battle, but that’s okay. That’s life. You let the bad days go and keep moving.” I watched the intermittent flashing of an airplane’s lights as it crept across the darkened sky. “It’s been easier lately, a lot of good days and more reason to fight off the bad ones.”

“What reason is that?”

“You,” I admitted. “It’s unbelievable how much having you has strengthened me. It’s only been like six weeks. How crazy is that?”

He reached out and gripped my hand, both of us still flat on our backs, staring up at the sky. “Not crazy at all, I feel the same way and have from the start. No masks, remember? I’ve only ever had that with you, the freedom and desire to be myself.” He cleared his throat, and I wondered if I imagined the thickness in his voice. “Besides,” he said as he changed the subject, “it’s not that fast when you really think about it. The average date lasts what, three hours?”

“Something like that.” I wondered where this was going.

“Well, we’re together an average of fourteen hours a day, five days a week—and that’s just on set. You do the math on that and it equals a lot of dates. And yes, we were working, but we were also hanging out between scenes, texting, flirting, talking, running lines, and generally finding reasons to be in each other’s company.” He squeezed my hand. “Then there are all the non-work hours we’ve spent together, which add up to dozens more ‘dates,’ so if you add it all up, we’ve actually been dating for damn near a year, we just packed it all into a really short amount of time.”

“I guess we’re just a couple of overachievers, huh?” I laughed.

“You had me at couple.” He let go of my hand and rolled onto his side, tugging at me until I did the same. “And I don’t care about the math or the number of days or that some people may think we’re moving too fast. I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life and I’m not justifying a damn thing to anyone.”

“Me either.”

He nodded, letting his knuckles trail up my side, the warmth of his hand on my chilled skin giving me goosebumps.

“I love you,” I murmured, eyes locking on his perfect mouth.

“I love you too, Kaiti-girl.”

I threw one leg over his hips and curled it behind him, using it to pull him closer as I reached out and tweaked his nipple. “Prove it,” I challenged, my heart racing and my body already responding to the heat in his eyes.

“You keep up with that and I’ll be whisking you away to Vegas to put a ring on it before we go back.”

“It’s cute that you think you’ll have the energy after I’m done with you.” I winked and reached for the sizable erection pressing into my stomach. “Or that I’ll be able to walk anywhere, much less down the aisle.” I knew he was joking, but only halfway. And I was only halfway attempting to distract him because it wasn’t as scary a thought as it should have been. Nothing with Gavin ever was.

He pressed himself into my palm with a groan. “Okay, Vegas next weekend. If we don’t screw ourselves to death before then.”

I ran my thumb lightly over his tip, teasing. “What a way to go…”

* * *

I wadded up my clothes and stuffed them into my duffel bag, looking around the bedroom with a deep feeling of longing. I didn’t want to leave. These past two days—okay it was only a day and a half but still—had been amazing. Gavin had been amazing. I let the weekend replay in my mind on an infinite loop as I grudgingly packed my belongings and prepared to head back to my new reality.

We really had made love in every room in this immaculate beach house, and on the sand, and in the hot tub, but we’d also found time to drive up the coast and eat freshly-caught seafood while watching the surfers catch a few waves. We’d walked the Heritage Square Farmer’s Market and eaten peaches so warm and sweet the juice had run down our arms, necessitating another swim when we returned to the beach house.

We’d watched the sun rise and set in each other’s arms and laughed until our sides hurt.

We’d created memories I knew neither of us would ever forget.

I yawned into my hand as I fumbled with the zipper of my bag and Gavin walked in, yawning himself. He had two huge cups of coffee in hand and I could have kissed him as he handed me one. Instead, I slapped his ass and followed him out to the balcony for one last quiet moment before we had to fight traffic and airport security.

He took a sip from his steaming cup and nodded out to the waves. “They’re bigger here than on the East coast.”

“Everything is bigger here. The houses, the cars, the cities…all huge and intimidating.”

“Nah,” he said. “Not intimidating, just different. And bigger isn’t always better.”

I quirked a brow and winked. “Not always but in some cases…”

He skimmed his gaze down my body, taking in my thin tank top and cotton shorts. “You keep looking at me like that and we’ll miss our flight, new girl.”

“Keep it in your pants. Bryce will kill us if we don’t make it to work in the morning.”

An irritated look crossed his face. “He’d just have to get over it.”

“Careful, Hollywood. We’re under contract, though mine is probably a little less binding than yours.” I tried to remember the exact phrasing.

He scoffed. “Not for much longer. The entire lead cast is up for renewal after this season and if he pisses me off, I won’t sign a new one.”

“Really? All of you are up for renewal at the same time?”

“Yep. The initial contracts were for one season, then extended for one more before we realized how popular the show had become. Then we all signed three-year deals and those expire at the end of this season.”

“So, theoretically, you could be off the show if contract negotiations don’t go well?”

“Pretty much.”

“Does that scare you? Or should the suits be the ones who are worried?”

“I think they’re confident that they’ll be getting all of our signatures, and most of us are expecting to ride this out until the end—whenever that may be. Makes new contracts not such a big deal. The only time either side worries is when they think the other side won’t play ball.”

“Meaning the network could decide not to sign you or you could decide not to sign.” I nodded. “Like me not knowing if I’m slated to be on the show next season and them not knowing if I’ll be willing to sign on even if they want me.”

“Exactly. They like to keep people guessing, they think it motivates us to do our best when we’re worried we won’t get contracted for the next season. Your short-term contract is mostly because you signed mid-season, but yeah, they might decide Meadow isn’t the right fit and write her out. Nothing is ever locked in.”

I considered that for a bit. “I don’t know which way I want it to go. Is that weird? Not knowing if I want to stay on the show?”

“If it is, I’m weird too.” He stood and started toward the sliding doors. “Let’s make a couple of coffees to go. The driver will be here in five.”

If it is, I’m weird too.

I thought about that comment all the way to the airport.

* * *

When we landed in Wilmington and made our way to Gavin’s car, I finally switched my phone back on. I’d let Evie know we were going to be out of contact before I left and set my phone to airplane mode. As soon as I turned it back on, a string of messages had it chirping in my hand.

Evie.

I laughed as I scrolled them, reading them aloud to Gavin as he navigated us away from the airport.

Evie: Hey, superstar. Why didn’t you tell me there would be teaser trailers?

Evie: I just saw one while waiting in line for a latte. I scared the shit out of everyone when I squealed like a lunatic and started jumping up and down.

Evie: Some poor guy spilled his coffee. It was so embarrassing! It’s all your fault for not warning me.

Evie: You looked amazing, even on that tiny coffee shop TV! Call me when you get all the sand out of your crack and dismount your boyfriend’s face long enough to watch it. I’m dying to know what you think of this!

Gavin laughed, shooting me a look after that last one. “Dismount my face, huh?”

“Inside joke,” I muttered, searching the show’s website for the trailer and marveling that I could still blush in front of him after all we’d done over the weekend.

“She may have been kidding, but you do know I’m always game to have you sit on my face, right?”

I squirmed in my seat and made a non-committal noise, pretending to be distracted by my phone. Nothing was ever enough to divert my attention from him, though. I was keenly aware of his proximity at all times, had been from day one. I was playing it off because his blunt statement—and my reaction—was shocking.

It took very little to get me going, which I blamed on his general hotness instead of my quick libido.

Totally his fault.

I found the teaser trailer and hit play, my heart racing as the images flashed by, images of all of us from the upcoming episode—my first episode. It was surreal to see myself as Meadow. It was me but it wasn’t, not really. I was her, in her skin, giving her unique mannerisms and expressions. She was real—finally coalescing into a separate person in my mind as I watched her interact with Tyler and Tia, introducing herself over the dramatic background music. The montage made it seem like Meadow was the catalyst that was about to bring irrevocable change to the show. It was exciting as hell, and that shocked me more than anything. I was excited that people would be watching me, energized and ready to see what was in store for them all.

For once, I wasn’t thinking about the past or letting it get in my way. I was winning my battle with anxiety and it felt amazing.

It was the first time I thought this acting thing might be my calling.

When we arrived at my apartment, the first thing I did was drop my bag on the floor in the dining room and shove my phone into Gavin’s hands. “You’ve got to see it!” I chirped, bouncing on my heels.

I’ll never get to sleep tonight.

I glanced at the clock, okay. It was already Monday morning, but even the thought of having to be at work in less than four hours couldn’t thwart my surge of energy. I was too jazzed to rest.

Gavin was grinning when he handed my phone back and kissed the top of my head. “Evie’s right. You are a superstar.”

I cocked a hip in his direction, giving him a saucy look. “Does that mean I get the star treatment tonight?”

“Damn right it does. I want to revisit that conversation in the car, the one where you ride my face…”

I really hoped Gavin was okay with not sleeping either because I intended to keep him up all night long.