After a few weeks of filming, the days started to blur together.

I started keeping a notebook—the handwritten kind, not my phone—of ideas I picked up from being on set.

Because I had an all-access pass, I could watch anything and talk to anyone.

I made friends with the writers, one of the assistant directors, even the team on marketing back at the studio. It was like getting paid for a masterclass in film production and marketing.

One night I went to a club with some of the crew celebrating getting through the first set of scenes. Most of them had the next day off since the director and assistant directors were reviewing footage.

Since Titan had gotten big, I’d spent time around people with money. Real money. Still, I was willing to wager most of the men in this room had private jets, or eight-figure sports contracts, or houses in the hills.

After a couple of drinks, David pointed out a woman checking me out. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“She’s hot. Go for it,” he said.

“Not my type.”

“That woman’s every guy’s type.”

But she wasn’t.

She was tall and blond, not petite with dark hair.

Instead of being filled with skepticism, her gaze was the equivalent of a welcome mat.

Plus, she was too composed. The woman didn’t look like she’d fidget if she were dangling over an active volcano.

“Your loss,” David said.

I watched as he introduced himself. She beamed as he bought her a drink and I turned to look at the rest of the bar, thinking of the picture of his wife on his desk.

I went to the bathroom to escape the sweat and the neediness that draped the room like a silk blanket.

I bumped into a figure in the hall on the way back.

“Need a break?” the woman who’d been flirting with David asked, sympathetic.

“He’s not who he says he is.”

Her wry smile came with a cock of her head. “They never are.”

Five minutes later, I watched her cross the room and take up her spot next to David again. When she leaned in to kiss him and he let her, I walked out.

I’d thought this was the place that made dreams a reality. But everyone in that bar wanted something. Maybe, like me, they didn’t know what it was. Unlike me, they were willing to do anything to find out.

By the time I got back to my suite, the hotel was quiet. Inside my room, I stripped down to my shorts, letting each piece fall on the floor as I grabbed my computer and bound notebook and took them out onto my patio.

Sitting in the cool evening air, letting the breeze play over my skin, I pulled out my paper notebook and re-read my notes for the day.

There were good ideas in there, but I realized they were ideas for Titan, not for Epic.

I got to the end and my pen started to move over the blank page.

I remembered the night Sam and I’d sat in my spare bedroom, her drawing invisible lines across my skin. The way it felt, just me, her, and the darkness.

In that moment, she’d been everything. My past, my present, my future. All of it rendered perfectly in each breathy sound, each curve of her body, each low murmur.

By the time I lifted the pen from the notebook, there was an image of two people, embracing.

It was the worst fucking thing I’d ever seen but I couldn’t bring myself to laugh.

Instead, I opened my laptop, pulling up Sam’s anonymous profile.

Where was she now? In her new apartment? Working on her gallery show?

With her new Jonathan?

I’d been in LA a full month. When I’d decided to come out here, I’d vowed I wouldn’t chase her.

Still, I couldn’t stop the wondering.

The knock on my door shook me out of my trance.

“Don’t tell me you’re asleep,” a flat voice called. “It’s eleven-thirty on a Friday.”

I rose from my chair and crossed to the door. Jerking it open, I found Max on the other side, a knapsack over his shoulder and a paper bag in his hand. “What are you doing here?”

“The way Payton talked I figured you were living in a shithole, not a Sheraton.”

Max unzipped the bag and pulled out a console.

My throat dried up. “This is the demo of Omega?”

He nodded. “Load it up.”

I crossed to the couch, taking a seat as we plugged in the console.

Max hit a few buttons, and an entire world unfolded in front of me.

We sat next to each other, working through the first level.

“Does the facial recognition—”

“You tell me.”

My mouth twitched at his sarcasm. It was hard to remember the last time I’d smiled, and the muscles felt out of practice.

A few moments later, my avatar seemed sluggish. “It works.”

“Uh-huh. It’s done and debugged. The motion capture’s not ready to roll out, but it’s close.”

I set down the controller to stare at him. “Shit. I didn’t know we were this far along.”

“I’ve been working on it around the clock, plus got some subcontractors to help. Our hourly billings have been insane the last quarter, but I didn’t want to get the team’s hopes up.” His gaze leveled on mine. “Or yours.”

“Max, the quality’s better than anything else on the market.”

“I know.” He hit the off button and dropped back onto the couch next to me.

My heart thudded in my chest as I stared at the black screen.

“I want to renegotiate the deal with Cobalt.” His words sank in and I turned toward him. “I’m willing to give them Oasis and Phoenix. But not Omega.”

“Why the change of heart.”

“Trying to keep on top of my family and Titan is making my head spin. I’m used to knowing every piece of every person’s job. I haven’t for awhile now. But it’s hard to deal with it, with not being involved in every decision. I need your help.”

I nodded, careful not to read too much into his words. “I can talk to David on set.”

He shifted, stretching an arm over the back of the couch. “Someone stopped by the office the other day. Asking whether you were intending to buy your Bentley back.”

My eyes closed and I felt laughter bubble up for the first time in weeks.

“What the fuck happened, Ry?”

“Fun story. We were short on payroll right before the holidays, and it was one of my more liquid assets.”

“You sold it for Titan.” He cursed. “You should’ve told me.”

I reached a hand up to rub the back of my neck, blinking my eyes open as I stared across the room. “I should be able to run the business for a few weeks without you, even if you were the one who ordered the extra hours.”

“We’re also supposed to be friends.” He cleared his throat. “How are you? With Sam?”

Her name was a kick in the gut, even after weeks without seeing her face, without touching her, without talking to her.

“There is no me and Sam. This whole time I was chasing something that couldn’t exist. We weren’t right for each other then. We still aren’t. She doesn’t want any part of my world.”

“I’m not so sure.” He opened a window on his phone, clicking to a familiar website.

“What are you…” When Sam’s homepage loaded, I looked up at him in alarm. “What the hell is this.”

He raised a brow. “Looks like art, Ry.”

Max shifted off the couch but I barely noticed him, my attention riveted by the tiny screen.