“I just suggested they get a picture or two to display around set,” he finally admits, lifting his shoulders in an easy shrug. “They thought it was a great idea and figured you’d appreciate the random cameos. You know, mixing real with fiction.”
I shake my head and place the frame back where I found it, staring at the smile young me is casting to young Corbin.
“Why Corbin?” I ask quietly. When he doesn’t answer, I gesture around us. “Why Ryker? Why this movie? Why now?”
His lips part, but nothing comes out.
I take the Twizzlers out from the bag hanging on my shoulder and slam them into his chest. Only a few are missing since he gave them to me. I couldn’t get myself to accept the gift, but the sugar was exactly what I needed when my nerves got the better of me this morning.
“Why the candy?” It comes out a broken whisper that has his lips curving down. “You shouldn’t have bothered. With the food, the candy, the note. The note. There’s no point, so why?”
He takes a step forward despite the little room between us already. The tips of his expensive looking shined black shoes tap my basic heeled wedges that I got from the clearance rack at Target. Nothing about my floral wrap dress screams money or class like the button-down white shirt tucked into belted black dress pants does on his slim frame. I know Ryker’s signature look—the rolled sleeves, the three top buttons undone, and the messy bedroom hair.
I also know Corbin Callum even though I wish I didn’t. He dresses to impress. To play any part. And he plays it well, just like he always has.
The best friend.
The loving boyfriend.
The heartbreaker.
“There’s always a point,” he tells me quietly, keeping his hands tucked into his pockets. His gravelly tone has the power to make me come undone, and I hate it. “It’s an apology, for one.”
Now I’m rolling my eyes and moving around him, bumping his shoulder with mine to get some air that isn’t full of his woodsy scent. “You’re a little late on that front.”
“I won’t deny it,” he agrees. “I can make excuses as to why things happened like they did, but the truth is, I let my career take precedence.”
I say nothing.
“I chose success,” he continues, turning to face me as I pretend to study the rest of the room. Thankfully, the crew has finished and let us be.
“Shock,” I murmur.
“I chose … me.”
I stifle a giggle, but it turns into an unattractive snort. Stopping in front of the vanity attached to the dresser, I study my reflection. I look tired, but not overly so. The bags beneath my eyes are only noticeable if you look close enough. My bottom lip is chapped from the amount of times I wet and nibble on it, which I’ve subconsciously done a lot since watching my book play out in front of me.
My cheeks though … they give me away.
They’re colored with the faintest tone of pink, a natural color since Corbin came back into my life. It’s hard not to blush when he pays you attention, especially with the memories I have of us together all those years ago.
The touches, kisses, whispers.
We were young and sloppy and invincible back then. That’s where we went wrong. Heartbreak was inevitable as soon as we thought nothing could touch us. Eventually, something did.
Reality.
Dreams.
Us.
Looking down, I say, “You always chose yourself, even when you made pretty promises. They were just words and I always knew it. It was my fault for falling for them.”
“Kinley—”
“But everything else?” I conclude, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Everything else was your fault. You can apologize as many times as you want, I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago because holding onto that resentment was too much.”
He’s smart enough not to say anything.
“But I’ll never forget.”
His chin dips in silent acknowledgment.
Taking a deep breath, I paint a smile on my face when I hear people’s voices getting nearer. Flattening the wrinkles from my dress, I turn on my heel and watch Corbin play with the candy I shoved at him.
Not knowing what else to say, I walk away and back toward the chair with my name on it. Buchannan is by his, greeting me with a big smile that gives me a weird feeling in my stomach. He stretches out his arms for a hug, which I reluctantly give to him.
He seems nice, but no hug should feel as slimy as his. His hold is too tight and too long and his eyes like to roam where they shouldn’t.
Clearing my throat, I say, “The set looks amazing. You guys have brought this to life perfectly.”
He touches my arm, and I try not flinching away from the contact. “I’m glad you like it, darling. We should talk more about what you think sometime soon.”
I know his intentions aren’t innocent, so I simply nod and say nothing as I take my seat. When I look up again, Corbin is glaring at Buchannan with a dark expression on his face.
And for some reason … I smile.
Chapter Six
Kinley / 16
It’s dark by the time I clock out and say goodbye to everyone at the restaurant. The Friday night crowd has the bar in the back room packed and the kitchen smelling like onion rings. My stomach growls over the greasy scent as I zip up my jacket and walk out the front doors.
“Hey.”
I yelp and swing my arm out of instinct, nearly colliding my fist with the side of Corbin Callum’s pretty face.
He dodges the strike by ducking down and raising his hands up in defense. “Whoa! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
My heart is still racing in my chest when I take a step back and stare at him. “Then why are you lurking outside a restaurant at almost ten o’clock at night? That’s creepy.”
“I saw you inside earlier.”
“Still creepy.”
He chuckles, shoving his hands in the large pocket of his gray sweatshirt. Instead of the black jeans and tee he sports at school, he’s in blue jeans, worn sneakers, and a big hoodie with red AC/DC lettering and the drawstring missing.
His chin dips toward the door. “My family came here to eat dinner and I noticed you were bringing clean glasses out from the back.”
I shift my weight from one foot to the other and shiver when a gust of wind smacks into me. “Did you get lost or something? That doesn’t explain why you’re still here.”
His teeth dig into his bottom lip to suppress a smile. “I live across the street. Thought maybe I’d catch up with you when you got done tonight. Say hi.”
I blink. “Well … hi.”
I start walking down the gravel driveway that leads to the sidewalk. I’m not sure if I’m really surprised or not that he follows. His footsteps easily match mine until we’re walking side by side, coated by the darkness from the blown streetlight.
“Do you need a ride?” he asks, hands still in his pocket.
I shake my head. “I don’t live too far.”
He continues to follow me. “My mom would kill me if she knew I let you walk home alone in the dark.”
“Why?” My nose scrunches. “Is she afraid weird guys are waiting outside restaurants for their unsuspecting victims?”