I felt like shit. This wasn’t anything new. I had felt like shit ever since the night Penny had handed me back the engagement ring and walked away. At first, I had allowed myself to think that it was something that I could fix—that I just needed to convince Penny that I had no intention on following through on whatever scheme Olivia and Stella had been cooking up behind my back. I thought I could just give Penny the night off—let her be angry and upset—and then we’d talk about it in the morning.

But I hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to her about it, because when I got back to the hotel, she was already gone. She had booked a flight back to New York that evening, and every call I made to her kept going directly to voicemail. Even when I knew she was back home, she still refused to answer any of the messages I sent her.

That’s when I realized how tremendously I had fucked up.

The worst part was—even now, weeks later—I still didn’t know how I could fix it. Or even how I could have prevented the whole thing from happening. The easy answer, of course, was that if I hadn’t convinced Penny to play the part of my girlfriend, none of this would have happened. But at the same time, I wouldn’t have taken back the last few weeks for anything. Spending time with her, being with her, making love to her . . . it was the realest thing I’d ever felt. When Penny had been the one to suggest the engagement, I had thought that we were both on the same page.

Obviously I had been wrong.

And now, I was left dealing with the consequences. I hated the way I had treated Penny—hated that I had made her feel like she was just part of some plan, some scheme. That she hadn’t meant anything.

Because she had meant something. She was Penny. She always meant something to me.

I had been stupid to think that our “business” arrangement wouldn’t have changed into something else. Just because I wasn’t capable—or willing—to open myself up to something as dangerous and destructive as love, didn’t mean that she would feel the same. It was clear that Penny was a girl who wanted—and deserved—love. I also knew that I couldn’t give it to her.

But that didn’t stop me from missing her. And I missed her something fierce. All of a sudden, with her gone, everything in my life that I had been so excited about, everything I had felt so proud of, felt pointless. Because I didn’t have her to share it with anymore.

I was sitting on the couch when Stella came into the hotel room. She didn’t knock or bother to announce herself, just came striding right in, her insanely high heels tapping across the hardwood floors.

“What the fuck, Jax?” she practically screeched when she saw me.

Not that I could blame her. The hotel looked like a mess. I looked like a mess. Apparently, ordering copious amounts of room service and drinking from the minibar was only fun and sexy when you were with a fun redhead who made you laugh. When you were by yourself, it was just plain pathetic.

“Your Captain Atom screen test is in an hour!” Stella threw a pillow at me.

I didn’t even bother to duck and it bounced off my chest.

“Can you take a shower, at least?” Stella grabbed my arm and tried to pull me off of the couch, but despite the candy wrappers lying around the hotel, I was still in pretty good shape and she didn’t manage to move me an inch.

Stella gave up and threw her hands in the air.

“Fine. I’ll cancel it.”

“Don’t.” I still wanted the part. At the very least, it would make everything that I went through to get it feel worthwhile. I hoped. “I’ll get myself together, I promise. Give me ten minutes,” I told her, dragging myself off the couch and into an ice-cold shower.

When I emerged, freshly shaved and wearing the jeans and T-shirt that Stella had laid out, I might have looked presentable, but I still felt like crap.

“Are you still pouting about Penny?” Stella asked, handing me a leather jacket that she claimed would be the perfect addition to my look.

I didn’t care what I was wearing. I didn’t care about anything.

“I’m not pouting,” I told her.

But Stella didn’t seem to hear me.

“Penny was a nice girl,” she said, digging through her enormous purse and coming up with a comb, which she thrust in my direction. “But this industry isn’t for the faint-hearted. You know that.”

“I know,” I repeated dully, dragging the comb through my hair.

“You can only warn someone what it’s going to be like—and you warned her. We both did! It’s a shame she got hurt, but we were completely upfront with her from the beginning,” Stella reminded me. “And she did a great job when you two were together. Look at how everything’s come together since then.”

“It wasn’t a job,” I told Stella. “Not to her.”

She patted me on the arm. “Oh, sweetie, everything is a job. Some people just like to pretend it isn’t.”

She said it with utmost confidence, but I knew that Stella was wrong. She didn’t know Penny at all.

“Look.” Stella’s voice became soft. “You’ve worked so hard to get here,” she reminded me. “The last thing I want is for that hard work to go to waste. Don’t let this opportunity slip away because you’re worried about Penny’s feelings. She’ll be fine.”

That was the problem. I had no doubt that Penny would be fine. She was strong and smart and resilient. She would have no problem finding some other guy to worship her the way she deserved: all in, no holding back.

I was the one who was well and truly fucked.

After Stella left, I was alone with my thoughts again. And they weren’t good ones. My fingers itched to call Penny—they had been itching for weeks, even after she kept refusing to answer or respond to any of my messages or texts. And even then, when I was calling her constantly, I’d had no idea of what I would even say to her if she answered.

Even if I knew the right thing to say, what good would it do? Because she was right. The whole thing had been a means to an end for me. I needed a girlfriend to improve my image to get the part I wanted. That was the bargain we struck. No one’s emotions were supposed to be involved.

At least, that was the plan. But one kiss from Penny had thrown it all off track. What had started as just another acting role had turned into something more, but I hadn’t even realized just what she meant to me until I was watching her walk away.

I hated that I hurt her, and I hated that I couldn’t think of a way to make it right between us. Because she’d been telling the truth: I was hurting her by thinking we could keep things casual. She deserved way more than that, and I was the one coming up short.

“I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Even now those words filled me with wonder—and shame. It was incredible that a woman like Penny could have those feelings for me, but every time I thought about what it would mean to be with her, I felt a tight panic in my chest.

It would be for real, no holding back. No hiding behind charming smiles and scripted lines. She would see all of me, even the dark, broken places. It would be amazing, and scary as hell.

And we’d wind up hating each other in the end.

Love didn’t last. That’s what I’d been telling myself all this time. Friendship, sure. Great sex? Sign me up. But love . . . ?

Penny would be different.

I tried to shove aside the whisper in my mind. Not to imagine what it would be like to wake up with her every morning and go to bed in her arms every night. Laugh with her, be there for her.

Love her, like I’d never loved anyone before.

My phone buzzed with the arrival of my Uber. I headed out to my audition, trying to get my mind back on track. It was yet another screen test for Captain Atom, for the director and producers to finally decide if I was their guy. This was what I had worked for, I wanted this part, and I had done everything in my power to make it happen. But I just kept picturing Penny’s teary face when she handed the engagement ring back to me.

Nothing was worth making her hurt like that.

The first person I saw when I walked into my audition was a familiar face. “Morgan?” I greeted her with a hug, one that she eagerly returned.

“Surprise!” she said. “You’ll be reading with me today.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Really?” I asked, my mood perking up a bit. “Does that mean . . . ?”

“It’s not official, but yes, you’re looking at the next Jenny Lane,” Morgan said, practically bursting with pride.

“You’re just full of good news today.” I gave her another hug.

Jenny was Captain Atom’s love interest, and I could easily see Morgan in the role. She’d be amazing as the super-smart lawyer who was also the love of the hero’s life.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she told me as we headed down the hall. “I’d heard rumors that you might not even show up today.”

I didn’t tell her I was tempted to blow the whole thing off.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I asked, forcing a smile on my face.

“Uh huh.” Morgan gave me a long once-over. “But seriously,” she said. “How are you?”

Her focused gaze could only mean that she was referring to what had happened to me and Penny. Not that I should have been surprised—out of everyone in the cast, Morgan had been the most welcoming to Penny, and the two of them seemed to have bonded.

“I’m hanging in there,” I told her with a defeated shrug.

“Mmhmm.” She gave me a look. “What about Penny?”

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “She won’t speak to me. And I’ve tried,” I added before she could ask.

“I’m sorry, Jax.” Morgan gave me a sympathetic look. “I thought you two were a really cute couple.”

“She deserves better than me,” I said before I could stop myself.

Morgan stared at me. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

“I can’t give her what she wants,” I told her.

“And what is that?” Morgan crossed her arms. “Because from what I know about Penny, she’s probably not asking for something unreasonable. I’m betting she just wants things like, I don’t know, affection, attention, encouragement—”

“Love,” I finished for her.

Morgan’s eyes went up. “That’s what you can’t give her?” she asked, her expression incredulous. “But that’s the easiest thing in the world to give.”

“It’s not so easy with me,” I told her. “It’s complicated.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” she laughed. “Love is complicated. Most of the best things are.”

I opened my mouth to argue with her, but we were called into the audition before I could. Inside, I met the director and the producers, all of whom seemed very interested—and excited—about my existing relationship with Morgan, who they appeared to be crazy about.

“Jax is the best,” she was telling them. “Complete professional, always on time, and”—she glanced back at me and gave me a wink—“he looks great in tight pants.”

Everyone laughed.

“We’d love for you two to read scene forty-eight,” the director said. “We’re really looking for solid chemistry between our leads, but we also need to know that the actor playing Captain Atom can balance the tough guy superhero elements of his role with the kind, sensitive aspects of his personality. We need to see why someone as strong and independent as Jenny is willing to give up so much to be with him.”

It was almost as if they were talking about my own personal life. And I realized then that I had fallen short. That I hadn’t even thought about what Penny had been giving up to be with me. All I had thought about was myself and what I had to gain. I hadn’t thought about Penny’s sacrifices or how hard it must have been to be thrust into my world and then left to fend with it on her own.

All of these thoughts were rushing through my head as I picked up the script and faced Morgan. I had read through the pages over a dozen times in preparation for this audition, but I had never really understood this scene the way I understood it now.

“Ray,” Morgan started reading, facing me. “I love you, but I can’t keep standing on the sidelines. I can’t keep watching from a distance. I can’t keep waiting—hoping—that you’ll come home safe.”

“I know,” I said, stepping closer to Morgan. “And it’s unfair of me to ask. But I can’t help it—because I love you. Because I love you so much.”

“If you loved me, you’d let me go,” Morgan said, her eyes filling with tears. “You’d let me live a normal life.”

“Nothing about you is normal,” I read.

I was looking at Morgan, but seeing Penny.

“You are too extraordinary for a normal life,” I said. “Too special for that kind of existence. And I can’t promise you much—I can’t promise that there won’t be danger or pain or destruction—but I can promise that I will always love you. And I will always fight for you.”

And there it was. Like a lightning bolt hitting me between my eyes.

I loved Penny. I loved her. Completely and utterly.

And I hadn’t fought for her.

I heard the smattering of applause and turned to find the director and producers clapping, one of them even wiping away a tear. I glanced back at Morgan, who was smiling through her own tears.

“That wasn’t for the movie, was it?” she asked in a whisper.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“Good luck,” she whispered, as I stepped out of the camera range.

The director rushed forwards. “Let’s do that again, but this time—”

“I’m sorry.” I backed away. “This role is amazing, the part of a lifetime, but there’s somewhere I have to be.”

“More important than this?” He frowned.

“Yes.” I grinned, exhilarated. “A thousand times more important.”

I knew I was throwing away an opportunity I might never get again. But I didn’t care. I knew exactly what I wanted. Penny. I needed her. I loved her. And I had to tell her.

I could only hope that I wasn’t too late.