Steal (Seaside Pictures 3)

Her smile was sad. “Child stars are always forced to grow up… and I have only Alec and Demetri to blame. They forced me into rehab, counseling, all the things. And I did it because I was so sick of myself, of my choices.” She hung her head. “You know, Will, I think you misunderstood something about what happened between me and Andrew.”

I nearly broke the guitar over my own head. “Can we not talk about this?”

“Nope. I’m the grown up now, remember?”

I flinched at her words, refusing to look at her, afraid she’d see how angry I still was, how sad, how rejected.

“He was jealous of you,” she said simply. “He always felt like you betrayed everyone when you took time off to do a solo career, after your hit song went crazy and everyone wanted you, he felt left out, I think the reason he targeted me is because I felt the same way.”

I froze. “Targeted?”

“I was drunk, he’d gotten me drunk, when I snorted my first line of cocaine, I still did it, I still said yes. He said it would help me stay up late. He was right. And slowly, he wound me into his web of deceit. He told me…” She shook her head. “He told me there were other girls, that you didn’t really love me, didn’t care. And there were pictures.” She licked her lips. “I never thought you cheated, I just thought… why the hell would Will Sutherland want me, when he could have anyone? And when you got so busy, and he was there, with his lies, with his… easy smiles and free drugs. I fell. I made that choice. I still fell. And then our fights got worse and worse, and I was so guilty with all the lies I was telling you, I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror, let alone look at you anymore.”

“I begged you to stop.”

“By then I was too addicted to even consider it, and no matter how much you love someone, the drug will always win out, Will, especially when your supplier is your boyfriend’s best friend.”

“Ex-best friend,” I said with barely controlled rage.

“I just, I don’t want you walking around wondering anymore, last night…” She shook her head. “It felt so real. My dream.”

“What… dream?”

“The old Will Sutherland kissed me.” She smiled brightly. “It was a good dream.”

“What makes you think he’s gone?”

“Because I have eyes, and because your armor…” she leaned over and whispered, “Is back on… Grab the guitar, it’s not going to kill you, Will. It may just save your life.”

“Stop being so… old.” I strummed a few chords. And she sat next to me.

In silence.

Both of us.

But my heart felt a bit lighter.

Maybe because just like her words, my guitar was one more broken piece she’d given back.

Maybe there was hope after all.

“Play me a song, Will,” she said a few minutes later.

So I did.

And when she asked me to sing.

I didn’t hesitate, to show her that I was in there still, waiting, yearning, but scared as hell to try when I had everything to lose.

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.