I love you.
Inwardly, I flinched and lowered my eyes so my friends couldn’t see my panic. I’d read it in his journal before I flew to London, so I knew that’s how he felt. Having him say it while we made love was one of the most beautiful things that had ever happened to me.
But for some stupid reason, I could not say the words back.
He hadn’t said it since … until last night. He’d gotten a cab to the airport with me and after we kissed for an inordinately long time at the drop-off point, he’d said he loved me.
My anxiety had clenched a fist around my throat and I couldn’t get the words out. Couldn’t reciprocate them.
Even though I felt them.
So I kissed him again. I’d poured everything I felt into that kiss and hoped it was enough for now.
But I noticed the glimmer of sadness in the back of his eyes when I walked away, and my chest had ached ever since. The thought of hurting him shredded me.
“It’s serious,” I replied quietly. “But I still have some issues to work through.” Clearly.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Monroe’s phone vibrated on the café table and she threw us an apologetic look. “It’s Brodan. One second.” She lifted the phone, tapping the screen a few times, and then her expression tightened.
“You okay?” Sloane asked.
But it was me Monroe looked at. Something about her wary, sympathetic countenance filled me with dread. “Brodan just sent me a link to a newspaper article.”
Oh, God.
I nodded nervously, and Roe handed her phone over. Taking it, I scrolled, and as I did, my hands shook.
The tabloid article headline was SCOTS ACTOR FINDS LOVE WITH HOLLYWOOD PRINCESS.
“Shit,” I murmured, my gut roiling.
There were photos of me and North in Berlin. Holding hands walking down the street. Kissing passionately at the airport.
I stopped at one picture. North was holding my face in his hands and staring at me with such adoration it made me want to cry. Until that moment, I didn’t think I’d ever fully processed the way he looked at me. Like a man in love.
Now everyone knew it.
Those feelings no longer belonged to just us.
The article said an anonymous source close to the couple told the Daily Mail that we were very much in love and had been dating for several months since meeting at Ardnoch Estate. They also said North had spent time in LA with my family, and we were all very close and talking about moving to LA together.
It was just lies pulled from speculation and guesswork.
Someone on the set had betrayed us for cash, of that I was certain. Everyone else who knew about us, I trusted.
I really did.
But now North and I were out there. My chest tightened and I felt a little dizzy as I dropped Monroe’s phone on the table. When North left me … the world would find out. I’d be humiliated all over again.
Sloane’s hand covered mine, and she asked me if I was okay. I nodded, unseeing, reeling from the violation of my privacy.
“I’ve been there, Aria,” Monroe said quietly. “The paps came after me and Brodan when he retired from acting. If you need to talk, I’m here.”
My cell rang in my purse, and I knew it was him before I even pulled it out to look at the screen.
“It’s North,” I murmured.
“You should answer. He’s probably worried,” Sloane insisted.
Part of me didn’t want to answer. I wanted to run away and hide and not deal with any of it. However, I knew that would hurt him, and I think I’d hurt North enough already.
“Hey.” The word sounded croaky to my ears as I answered.
“Gorgeous.” North sounded out of breath and panicked. “Did you see the news?”
“I did. Just this second.”
“Are you okay?”
My heart hurt that the first thing he’d thought to do was check in on me. “It’s not ideal.”
“Look, Aria, I am so sorry. I’m getting on a plane right now to come to you.”
“No.” I stood, pushing away from the table to walk out of the café for more privacy. Outside on the street, I could hear him better as he rambled on about needing to be with me to make sure I was okay. “No,” I repeated. “North, you can’t walk out on filming. And not for something that we both know was an eventuality.” It was true. If I intended to be in a relationship with North, it would eventually become public knowledge. Even if he was just a regular Joe off the street, at some point, our faces would find their way online. Because of me.
Because I was Wesley and Chiara Howard’s daughter.
I was the problem. Not North.
“It had to be someone on set.” He cursed. “I’ll have a word with Blake.”
“Don’t.” I shook my head, turning to look back into the café where Monroe and Sloane watched me with obvious concern. Their genuine worry soothed me a little. “North, we didn’t hide our relationship from the film crew. That’s on us. We just have to roll with this now.”
He was silent for a few seconds. “As long as this doesn’t make you want to run away from me, I’m fine with the world knowing about us. I’m more than fine. I’m in this, Aria, so for me this was always going to come out.”
“You’re right. It was.”
“So, we’re okay?”
Hating that I’d made him uncertain about us, I assured him, “We’re more than okay. In fact, there’s this one leaked photo that I kind of want to frame.”
North’s relieved chuckle warmed me all the way through. “Aye, I’m partial to a few myself. You’re so fucking beautiful.”
My cheeks heated. “I don’t deserve you.”
His voice was gruff with emotion when he replied, “You deserve the best, and so you make me want to be the best.”
Tears filled my eyes and I blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. Maybe those three little words were difficult for me to say, but I needed him to know how I felt. “You are the best, North. The best man I’ve ever known.”
He exhaled sharply, his breath crackling down the line. “You would say that to me when there’s nearly a thousand miles between us.”
I grinned. “I’m cruel that way.”
“I can’t believe I have to wait a week to show you my appreciation.”
I shivered at the thought of what that might be. “I can’t wait.”
We spoke a little more and when we hung up and I turned back to the café, I marveled how just the sound of his voice could bring me back from the brink of panic and fear.
Twenty-Nine
NORTH
“North!”
I halted on my way to my trailer. Today’s shoot was a wrap, and I just wanted to grab my phone, get back to my hotel, order room service, and call Aria. Yesterday was the closest she’d ever come to pronouncing her feelings for me, and it pissed me off we were in different countries.
We’d talked again last night and exchanged several texts, but I wanted to hear her voice again.
I was impatient to hear her voice.
Instead, I turned to find my costar, Eden, hurrying toward me. We were both still in costume. She was in the glittering green evening dress her character wore in the scene where we first meet. The Gallic beauty had arrived on set yesterday, and so far, our scenes were going well. Our characters had chemistry, which was great for the movie. But I knew when a woman was giving me the come-on, and I was trying to make it clear I wasn’t interested without having to explicitly say it.