WELL I WENT all in.

Threw my cards in his face.

Admitted it all.

Except that I still wanted him.

Loved him.

Breathed him.

But at least… at least maybe, it would help us heal, move past this part of us that we were both trying so desperately to cling to, I was done clinging to the damaged burned pieces when all I wanted were to build new ones.

“Gem?” I was getting my hair put in a ponytail rather than my usual baseball cap.

“Yes honey?” She pulled tight enough for my scalp to rip right off my head near my ears.

“Do you think it’s possible to give someone a second chance, when they hurt you so much that it destroyed your life?”

She stopped tugging and looked at me through the mirror. “Nobody decides whether or not your life is destroyed but you. To let someone have that much power over you isn’t right. It isn’t healthy.”

“No, I mean—” I was frustrated just trying to explain what I meant.”—like they ruin your life.”

“Only person capable of ruining your life, is you.”

I frowned and leaned back in my chair, “But—”

“You can only control your own choices, not other peoples, so someone hurts you, you gonna lash out and do something to punish them back? That only hurts you. Ruins your own life by your own choices. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Were you a shrink in another life?” I rolled my eyes even though I was secretly impressed by her words.

“Yeah, something like that.” She finished up with my hair. “All done. Oh, and, I was going through wardrobe. Time for Will to change.”

Yeah, time for Will to change back into the one I fell in love with.

Because that was easy.

When you still loved him.

“Yeah, I’ll send him in.”

I saw Will a few hours later and tried to convince myself not to react to the way he smiled at me, the way he made my body feel by simply existing in the same atmosphere.

It didn’t help that for some insane reason wardrobe wanted him shirtless in nothing but leather pants.

What type of torture was this?

We were filming a club scene, and I wanted to die a bit inside.

I didn’t do clubs anymore.

Hell, did I even still know how to dance?

Everything about it made my stomach sick. Because it used to be my scene. My life had been all about being seen in places like this.

I couldn’t even look in the direction of the bathroom. It reminded me of the drugs; it reminded me of the parties, the sex, and lastly being on the front of so many magazines as the party girl in a downward spiral.

What a sad, sad Hollywood story.

I shuddered.

“Got your lines?” Jay asked.

I glared. “Got them, and is it necessary we make out while dancing?”

Jay cupped his ear. “What was that? Thank you Jaymeson? Was that what you just said? What? Did you forget how to kiss? Dance? Shake your ass, move your shoulders, you’ll be just fine, love.”

“Jaymeson.” I clenched my teeth. “He’s not wearing a shirt.” I pointed at Will who was still talking with Zane over in the corner, apparently they’d made up after their fight.

Jay glanced over at Will, “So?”

“So, he needs… clothing.” I gulped.

Jay’s eyebrows shot up. “Tell you what, I’ll give him a shirt the minute you nail this scene, don’t let me down, remember, you say your lines, the music starts, we’ll add it on for this scene so you get a good rhythm, and then cut it for the film, right?”

I gave him a jerky nod and took my spot near the dance floor, sipping what looked like a drink but was really sparkling water.

Before I knew what was happening the scene had slated, the main characters were doing their lines while I stayed glued to my spot, and when they moved past me, glaring like I was the enemy because duh, in the movie I kind of was.

I hung my head.

Shame washed over me.

It felt too real.

And when I looked up there was Will, across the room, leaning against the wall, looking absolutely lethal.

God had been so good, he was such… a man.

Strong in all the right places.

Confident.

He had his swagger back.

And I both loved and hated him for it. Story of my life where my love and hate for one man combusted until I wasn’t able to do anything but long after him.

He made his way through the dancing bodies and stopped when we were nearly head-to-head. Then wordlessly offered his hand.

I took it.

Completely forgetting the lines I was supposed to say as Halsey started pumping loudly through the room.

I’d always loved dancing.

At least dancing with Will.

Being in a boy band had its benefits, it helped white guys who should by all means suck at dancing, learn to move their hips, which also transferred into the bedroom which I would most definitely not think about while his abs were staring me down like they wanted me to touch them.

I swallowed, my throat parched, as bodies started moving around us, moving to the slow melodic rhythm. Will didn’t move.

I was basically a statue.

As if I’d forgotten all about what I was supposed to do.

Grab the guy, dance with the guy, kiss the guy, get the hell out of this nightmare.

Except the guy wasn’t just any guy.

He was the guy who used to be my everything.

The one I couldn’t help but constantly give tiny little pieces to as if he knew what to do with the broken ones — as if he wasn’t still breaking them the minute I handed them over.

Will blinked, and then we were chest-to-chest. I took a much needed deep breath, my lips parting on instinct as his smooth hands moved to my shoulders and then ran down my arms causing chills to erupt all over my body, and then those same hands landed on my hips.

I swayed toward him.

His right hand slid from my hip down my ass.

My body jolted like he’d burned me.

How could a man look both so beautiful and so evil at the same time?

Sinner and saint.

Savior and killer.

My heart hammered, and then his hips rolled against mine, I hissed out a curse as our bodies collided.

And then maybe it was nature, or something else I didn’t want to think about, but our bodies moved in sync like they always had, like they always would.

Will could pass for a sexier version of James Dean with that hair, with that built body. I turned so my back was to him. It was too hard to do the scene looking at him, but he didn’t seem to mind, he just tugged me against him.

My butt collided with leather.

Hard. Leather.

I prayed for forgiveness for maybe the third time in my life as I greedily arched back against him, raising my right arm to hook it around his neck as our bodies ground together.

I forgot how good it felt.

To simply… exist within the air he breathed.

To dance without thoughts of anything past that moment.

I closed my eyes.

He cursed as my hips moved. His hands gripped them tightly, fingers digging into flesh forcing me back against him. I let out a little moan as his nimble fingers started dragging my dress up my thighs, leaving marks where his hands just were.

This wasn’t the Will I used to know.

That was my first mistake.

Forgetting that when I’d last seen Will, he’d been a boy.

This Will was all man.

I felt evidence of it in the way he gripped me, owned me, unapologetically moved against me as if he manipulated the situation, took ownership of my body without even taking off my clothes.

Nope, this Will Sutherland, this man, could make a woman fall to her knees with all their clothes on.

I didn’t realize I was panting until he turned me in his arms, lifting my arms above my head, wrapping them around his neck until we were breathing the same air, until I felt his arousal pressed against me, his body stretched taut, every fiber of muscle tight as if one more movement was going to set him over the edge.

His half-lidded gaze was the only indication that he was still okay, that we weren’t seconds away from doing something like ripping off each other’s clothes on the dance floor.

The line between acting and our past demons threatened to rise up between us. Tears welled in my eyes as he pulled away only to jerk me against his chest, wrapping my leg around his hip and dipping me back, his warm lips met my neck, and then made a blazing trail down until his tongue swirled between my breasts.

Jay still hadn’t yelled cut.

I wasn’t sure if I was thankful or horrified with the way my body reacted.

Kiss. I just needed to kiss Will and then take a cold shower, right?

And hide under my bed.

In my room without a door.

So next time he walked by shirtless I’d most likely die of lust.

Sounded like a fun time.

I tried to get my head in the game.

Tried to make this a job.

Kissing Will a job.

Getting the scene done.

Job. Done.

But when my eyes opened, when I saw the way his eyes blazed at me, I knew, I was already past the point of no return.

We both were.

We both knew it.

I gripped his head with my hands, my fingers tugged at his hair, he let out a vulgar curse as his mouth crushed against mine.

I wasn’t prepared for the hunger.

The kiss the night before had been a test.

An experiment.

Half apology, half sadness.

This kiss was madness.

It was combustible chaos.

It was wild, confusing, frenzied, I opened my mouth as his tongue plunged past every physical barrier I should have put up.

His kiss wasn’t the same as it had always been.

Years ago our kisses had been romantic, lustful, aggressive.

This kiss possessed.

And marked me as his to anyone watching.

I had no choice but to fight back.

I wanted to fight back to protect myself.

He didn’t let me.

He kissed deeper, harder, making it hard to breathe, hard to think, and then he retreated just enough for me to suck in some of the air he provided, before he tried another angle, and made love to me with his mouth.

“Cut!” Jay yelled.

NO! I wanted to scream back.

I pretended not to hear him, pressed my body tighter against Will’s, he let out a guttural groan and finally broke away from me.

Chest heaving.

A sheen of sweat running down his half-naked torso.

The music stopped.

Talking buzzed around us.

Jay approached, hid his smirk behind a clipboard, and then pretended not to notice how impossibly turned on we both probably looked before he yawned and then said, “So, that was nice.”

“Nice?” I gasped, my voice hoarse, body pulsing with need to have Will’s hands all over me again.

And then they were.

But they were holding me back from lunging at Jay.

Which just seemed to amuse our lovely director even more.

“Take the rest of the afternoon, we’re going to re-shoot some scenes with Linc and Pris.” His suggestive chuckle made me want to drown him in the ocean. “Oh, and I don’t think we’ll need to re-do that scene, considering one of the PAs ended up closing her eyes halfway through — very strong Catholic family, she’s an intern, only sixteen, I think your little R rated show made her… either extremely uncomfortable or pregnant.” His chuckle became a full-out laugh. “Either way… good job.”

And that was it.

I quickly gripped Will’s arm, I wasn’t sure I was capable of walking with my dignity still intact, at least not after that. My entire body was both weak with the emotional and physical trauma of what just happened, while my hormones were dying a slow death of disappointment that we had to stop.

“You okay?” Will’s lips grazed my ear. I jumped a foot. “Guess not.” He chuckled, “Home?”

“Bad idea.” I found my voice. “Very, super, very bad idea.”

“Very, super, bad idea,” he repeated. “I think I like the sound of that.”

“Don’t.” I shook my head a few times, didn’t look at him, just held on to him. “Don’t take me home, Will. Don’t.”

“Afraid?”

“Of you?” I blinked back tears. “Every day since you walked away. My biggest fear has never been of death or a crappy reputation. My nightmare always includes you walking into my life — only to walk right back out.”

He stiffened, and then picked me up into his arms and freaking carried me off amidst the stares and whistling from people around us.

I would have been fine with it, had cameras not been waiting for us outside.

Him half-naked.

Me getting carried.

Well, shit.

He swore, then set me on my feet, helped me into the car, ignoring the camera flashes around him as he got in the driver’s seat and hit the accelerator.