"We are preparing for take-off," the captain of the plane came over the small loudspeaker and announced to the passengers. "Please take your seats and buckle your seatbelts. You can remove them once we're safely in the air and the seatbelt sign has been turned off."

Teagan looked around at the plush leather arm chairs that the small group of ten or so people were sitting in. The majority of the seats were already taken, but she spotted an empty one facing away from her toward the back of the plane.

Only one problem. It was directly facing Reed.

"Teag," he called out to her. "There's a free seat here." He gestured to the chair across from him as he stood up to let her in.

"Hey, Teagan!" Taylor waved at her as she walked past her chair.

Teagan smiled at her. She and Taylor had struck up quite a friendship during the last few weeks, and she really enjoyed training the young actress. She was a natural dancer, and reminded her a lot of herself at that age. "Hey, Taylor."

She continued walking toward the back of the plane and let Reed take her bag from her. He tucked it into an overhead compartment as she settled in and pulled her seatbelt across her lap. "Thank you."

When he sat back down, his knees were touching hers from how close they were sitting. There was technically a lot of space, but his legs were so long that he was still practically on top of her. The next closest chair was across the aisle where two production assistants were sitting, busily tapping away on their laptops.

"I've never been on a private plane before," she admitted, looking around in amazement at the luxury and space that commercial planes definitely didn't have. Her chair had a small side table next to it with a cold bottle of water for her. She never thought she'd be so impressed with water, but admittedly, she was a bit star struck by it all. "Do you always fly like this?"

He shook his head. "Definitely not. It was just easier for the movie than coordinating all the different flights and worrying about who's going to make it there on time or not."

"I guess so, but still…"

"Despite most of Hollywood, I swear I'm not some highbrow asshole who flushes cash down the toilet." Reed laughed, and she tried not to notice the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he was truly happy. "You saw how I grew up. I swear, I'm as grounded as they come."

"Says the man who strong-armed me into a giant dressing room."

Reed smirked, giving her a wink. "I believe the correct phrasing is that I fingered you in a giant dressing room."

Her eyes widened and she her cheeks burned as she looked around to see if anyone had heard him. "What the hell, Reed?"

"Sorry." His eyes glittered. He isn’t sorry.

"Annnnyways," she emphasized. "I'm just saying, you can't impress me with a dressing room or plane or flashing your money around."

"I'm not trying to impress you." He smiled again, that stupid smirk that both infuriated and turned her on. "We already established that, remember?"

"Right." She rubbed her hand up and down her arm, her cheeks still on fire. "Exactly."

The plane was safely in the air at this point, and she leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her water. Anything to cool her down. Glancing out the small plane window, she watched California gliding by beneath them. It looked so simple and uncrowded from above. As much as she wanted to pretend that her problems could stay below on the ground, they were definitely thirty thousand feet above with her.

Or, more accurately, he was with her.

Teagan crossed her legs, tugging her skirt down to ensure her scar was covered. Most of the time, she never thought about it. It was just a part of her. But when people saw it—the pity in their eyes—she couldn’t stand that. She didn’t want to be defined by her accident, and even more so, she didn’t want Reed to see her that way. If he did see it, she’d have to explain why it happened.

She’d have to explain how it was his fault.

Still, she felt guilty for keeping it from him—which was ridiculous. She didn't owe him anything, and even more, she definitely didn't owe him that story. Emotions tugged at her heart as she thought about how everything had changed for her that day. If she hadn't had that accident, she might be the star of a dance film, able to toss around money like it was nothing. She might have become a household name, starred on Broadway, or done something else with her life besides help other people find the stardom she'd never have.

Teagan swallowed, pushing the thoughts away. Those dreams were not attainable anymore. While she could dance, and dance well, her physical limitations were still there. She'd accepted that. Period. And, truthfully, she didn't care about money. She was perfectly happy living in her tiny studio apartment with her old, fat cat. As long as she could dance, what more did she need?

"Teag," Reed whispered, rubbing his hand across the outside of her thigh as she blinked her eyes open. "Wake up."

She hadn't even realized she'd dozed off. "I'm awake."

"Follow me," he instructed. "But…in a minute or two."

She furrowed her brow, watching him unbuckle and stand up, walking farther into the back of the plane and disappearing behind a door. Glancing around, she looked at the other members of the production team. Elena was seated toward the front of the plane, fast asleep next to Mario who was talking on his cell phone. The rest of the cast and crew were all doing their own thing and not paying attention.

Quietly, she unbuckled her seatbelt and stood. Trying to make as little noise as possible, she followed in Reed's footsteps and opened the back door, slipping through. Turning around, she realized that they were in a very small bedroom. In fact, the entire room was mostly a bed with a few small shelves around it.

Reed grabbed her the moment she closed the door behind her, wrapping his hand around her wrist and pulling her into his body. His lips were on hers and he kissed her before she even had time to react. His hand cupped her cheek and jaw as he guided her while they kissed, his other hand on her lower back.

She couldn't stop herself from arching into him, her fingers twisting in his shirt as they devoured one another. "Reed." She tried to pause, but she couldn't. She couldn't stop kissing him, or sliding her arms around his neck and collapsing onto the bed beneath him. "Reed…"

"What?" He kissed his way down her neck.

"You said…we can't…" She moaned when he found her favorite spot right below her ear that made her body shiver with desire. "We can't do this."

"We're not," he said against her skin. Reed rested on his elbows, facing her now and giving them some distance. "I just couldn't sit that close to you any longer without kissing you, Teag. Knowing how good it could be, how good it was…I can't stop myself."

She understood that feeling way more than she wanted to. "Reed…this is going to hurt. We're going to get hurt."

"It already hurts every time I look at you. Every time I remember how badly I screwed everything up." There was a shine in his eyes that almost looked like tears, and a piece of her heart broke open. She could feel her walls crumbling at the intimacy of his admission. "Everything about us hurts, Teag. I've thought about you every single day. I've regretted it every day, as much as I've tried to fix that hole in my heart with every distraction possible. Now you're here, and nothing stops the pain except you being in my arms."

Tears pricked at her lower lashes. "You can't say things like that to me, Reed."

"I can't not say it, either."

"I loved you once. I wanted you—a life with you—forever."

He leaned down and kissed her neck, whispering in her ear, "Why can't we still have that?"

Teagan wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against his skin, but she didn't answer. She couldn't. She couldn't tell him because he broke the part of her that believed in everlasting love, that believed love was forever.

She couldn't tell him that she was broken, or that she wasn’t sure she’d ever love again. Or that as much as she had spent the last eight years telling herself she deserved better than the man who left her at the altar, that wasn't the truth at all.

Instead, the truth was she was afraid he deserved better than her, than a woman who wasn't whole, who wasn’t the woman she’d thought she’d become.