I COULDN’T LOOK away from her.

And I’d bet my entire fortune that nobody else on set could either. The sheer agony on her face was reason enough to be transfixed, but what followed was such raw, gut-wrenching emotion that it hurt to breathe, and it only got worse as she fell against the sand.

I flinched and dug my fingers into my palms, ready to spring into action to save her from the stares — from the world.

It went against every fiber of my being to watch her hurt in that way, to see the real Angelica — the one I had fallen for — expose herself to all of these strangers — the world — to the very people who stoned her when she came clean about who she really was.

When she came clean about our breakup.

The drugs.

Everything.

She didn’t owe them shit.

She didn’t owe me either.

And yet she was giving us everything.

My heart of stone began to beat in those few minutes when I fought with the desire to catch every last one of those tears with my lips and promise they’d never happen again even though I had no business making promises like that.

And when Jay still didn’t end the scene.

When I’d seen enough.

When she’d given enough to these monsters.

She started stripping.

I sucked in a shocked breath as her shirt went flying over her head, her bra, her tangled jeans and thong.

I closed my eyes only to keep myself from doing something rash like beating the shit out of every single person who was watching this blessed moment — this raw — powerful moment that not one of us should be allowed to witness.

I opened my eyes.

The perfect curve of her back faced the camera.

The small spot just near the right side of her hip that I had once worshiped and kissed until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore.

The matching tattoo that ran down the side of her thigh.

The same one I’d gotten on the inside of my finger so that when I played my guitar I could see it and know she was with me.

My heart warred with my brain, with logic, with the damn facts that she’d broken us, that she’d chosen herself over us, chosen drugs, chosen him.

When all I’d ever wanted.

Was her.

Angelica’s body flailed in the ocean.

“Enough!” I barked.

Jay leaned back in his chair, completely ignoring me, the bastard didn’t even take off his head set.

I stomped over to him and jerked it off and grabbed him by the shirt. “That’s enough.”

“Not yet.” He said in a calm voice, not even pissed that I’d grabbed him.

I waited, my hands still digging into his shirt.

Another wave crashed over her.

She could die.

Hypothermia happened all the time in Seaside.

“Jay!” I roared.

I didn’t think.

Couldn’t think past the need to save her.

To do what I should have done years ago.

To be her hero even when she told me to go to hell which is exactly what she’d done when I’d found her the first time snorting coke with Andrew.

“What are you going to do about it?” Jaymeson asked in that same calm voice as all eyes fell to us.

“I—”

He grinned.

“I hate you,” I spat.

Then I ran like hell toward the ocean, kicking off my shoes in the process. The waves overtook my body like an angry tumultuous storm — they matched my emotions, the same battle within.

I grabbed Ang’s arm, then one of her legs, dragging her body back against mine, she was frozen, and her breathing was shallow.

“Will?” Her blue lips pressed together, yet somehow still trembled with cold. “What…what’s h-happening? Is the s-s-scene over? Do I have to redo it?”

I was too angry to speak.

Too irrationally enraged to do anything else, I peeled my wet shirt off and put it on her naked body then picked her up in my arms and carried her back onto the beach.

I didn’t realize the cameras were still rolling until Jay yelled out, “Cut.”

I was still a mess of emotions when one of the PAs handed me two towels and two robes.

I rubbed down Angelica’s arms with the towel. She must be half dead and delirious with the way she clung to me with her shaking hands. Or maybe it was just because I’d been in the frigid ocean for mere seconds when she’d nearly drowned in it.

People were staring.

And I was done with it.

I picked Ang up again, swept past a smirking Jaymeson, and stomped all the way to Angelica’s trailer.

When I opened the door.

There was nothing there but a couch, a coffee maker, a table, and a TV. The walls were painted white, and from what I could see there wasn’t even bottled water or snacks. Hell, I’d seen trailers for extras that were nicer. Lincoln didn’t even like his bottled water labels facing the wrong way or so people claimed.

This? This was how she lived on set?

I shook my head and deposited her on the couch.

Angelica closed her eyes and shook beneath the towel, completely dwarfed by the material, I’d never seen her look so… beautiful.

I reminded myself she was an actress.

A damn good one.

And that last scene.

That was acting.

It wasn’t real.

It wasn’t.

I gave my head a shake and blurted. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Her head jerked up, cat eyes burned holes through my body as she stammered out. “Wh-what?”

“You could have died!”

Saying it out loud made the fear real.

Coaxed the fire surrounding me, burning me, making me want a girl that no longer existed, a girl who looked at the camera the way she used to look at me.

Angelica wrapped the towel tighter around herself. “I didn’t think you cared if I died.”

“Bullshit.” Her eyes softened. “It’s a lot of paperwork when someone dies on set, Ang.” I said it in a teasing way.

But the way she ducked into herself told me it wasn’t funny or completely necessary, just that old habits die hard.

And my habit, after being broken, was to make sure she knew what broken felt like even though I knew she did — she always would.

What a pair we were.

“I was kidding.”

“Don’t lie to me, Will.” Her voice was small. And then she let out a rough breath between her lips, “Do you think I’ll have to redo the scene?”

“The hell you are!” I roared getting in her face, making sure she couldn’t look away, I placed my palms on either side of her cheeks. “The only way you’re getting anywhere near that water again is if you’re in a full body suit and a professional diver is on a jet ski a few inches away from your body, got me?”

She tried jerking away. I held firm. “Do. You. Hear. Me?”

“I’m. Right. Here.” She moved again.

I held firm. Resting my forehead against hers. “No more swimming.”

“It was in the script.” She licked her lips.

“I don’t care if the President of the United States asks you to jump back in that water, you say no. You’re too…” I scowled. “It’s too cold. It looks like a hurricane out there.”

She sucked in her bottom lip. “It’s my job.”

“Screw your job,” I blurted.

Her chest rose and fell.

A dizzying sensation washed over me as tension spiked between our bodies, tension and a hell of a lot of heat.

I lowered my head.

Her eyes questioned my sanity.

I questioned my sanity right before my lips pressed against hers.

A knock sounded on the trailer.

I jerked away from her and scowled at whoever interrupted whatever the hell I had just been about to do.

“What?” I barked.

Jay poked his head in. “Everybody decent?”

“If decent means Angelica’s alive, you’re in luck, she didn’t die. What the hell kind of stunt was that?”

Jay grinned and shoved a script in my face. “So, I’m going to need you to stay on set today, Will.”

“What? As swim rescue?” I glared. “Because I’m only going to say this once. She isn’t going back into that water.”

“She doesn’t have to.” Jay shrugged. “The scene was bloody perfect.” I groaned and leaned against the counter. “Which is why you’re also going to need this.” He handed me another script with scribbling on it, highlighted on top was my name.

I almost dropped it.

I read it again.

“Jay…” I tried to keep my voice calm. “Why the hell is my name on this script?”

“Is that your name?” Jay reached for his walkie-talkie. “Ah, gotta go man, think of it this way, you’re already here, and you’ve acted in shit together before. It’s a few lines, what’s the big deal?”

I glanced down, and my heart dropped and threatened to get eaten by my stomach as I turned the page. It wasn’t one scene.

It was the entire freaking movie.

I was a new love interest.

I wasn’t speaking a few lines and walking off.

“Shit.” I dropped the script to the ground and sank to my haunches. I was either going to puke or pass out. I couldn’t do it, wouldn’t do it. This was how we’d met, this was how we destroyed our lives.

A movie set.

Ang looked between me and Jay. “What?”

“Angelica Greene,” Jay said in his all business voice, “meet your new co-star.” He eyed me like he was the most brilliant bastard in the world, “Like I said, I made a few changes to the script, I think it has more emotional meaning if we add in your love interest and since this is technically based on real events, why not include Will? It only makes sense.”

“The hell it does!” I roared, looking up at him with all the anger I could gather up since I still felt sick to my stomach.

Ang shook her head vehemently, “No, no you can’t, you can’t do—”

“See!” I pointed at Ang, “Neither of us wants this. You’re going to tank your own damn movie!”

“Funny.” Jay shrugged. “Ang said the exact same thing right before she gave an Academy Award winning performance. I’m going to have to say I’d rather trust my instincts on this one than trust two people who still refuse to speak to each other about the past, yeah? Good talk as always. You have ten minutes before wardrobe.” The door slammed, and then he poked his head back in. “That’s wardrobe for both of you just in case you miss—”

I chucked my script at his face.

It hit the closed door.

His laughter echoed from outside.

“You could always sue him,” Angelica said in a small voice. “Or leave.”

It was an out I could take.

If he wasn’t one of my clients.

If he wasn’t one of my friends.

And lastly… if he wasn’t right.

Because the only thing worse than Angelica and I starring in a movie together was starring in a movie based on true events.

Ones that affected us both.

Ones that for years, we still hadn’t discussed.

Because we had been kids.

Not adults.

Kids ran away.

We were both still running.

“Come on,” I said gruffly. “If we don’t go to wardrobe he’ll just burn down the trailer with us inside.”

“But then we’d at least be warm,” Ang pointed out with another shiver.

I scratched my head.

How the hell had I gotten in this position?

I wanted to blame everyone but myself.

But maybe my first mistake was thinking that after all these years the hate would last for the next few months I had to see her.

And already, already it was getting chipped away from the fact that the girl who I’d just seen give the performance of her life hadn’t disappeared and was still in that trailer with me — like the girl was still real.

I would regret this later.

I knew it.

But I’d just add it to the list of regrets named Angelica Greene.

I jerked the towel from her body and wrapped my arms around her. I closed my eyes and let my body heat soak into hers.

After a few minutes, her chills lessened.

And when she finally sighed against me, I released her and wrapped a fresh towel around her. “Let’s go.”

I could have sworn I heard her say, “Thank you.”

But I was afraid of the way her eyes would meet mine when she said the words, afraid of my reaction, afraid that the hate wasn’t strong enough to withstand one more of her raw looks.

So I kept walking with her close on my heels.